Virtual Season Five

by Angel16

Complete virtual season, albeit a short one!

Virtual Season Five

XXXX

Moving Forward

By: Angel

Rating: PG, mild swearing

Genre: General episodic, mild angst (which I promise to resolve in the near future)

Archive: At T/T'Pers, sure

Disclaimer: I don't own Enterprise, Star Trek, or any of the series characters. This is for entertainment only.

Summary: Episode One of my virtual season five. For the purposes of this fictional season, and my sanity, TATV never happened.

Notes: Well, I haven't actually finished watching TATV yet. It was so bad, I just had to turn it off, but being the spoiler hound that I am, I already know it sucks. So, I decided to try my hand at writing a virtual season five and ignoring that piece of BB trash. Thanks for listening to my rant!

Please let me know what you think. Feedback is much appreciated.

A cool breeze blew in from the bay to drift across the Starfleet grounds. It rustled the hair of those gathered around a freshly turned patch of earth, but they didn't seem to notice. Slightly ahead and to the right of everyone else stood Commander T'Pol, wearing her formal Vulcan robes, and Commander Tucker in his Starfleet dress uniform. They didn't touch, but leaned almost imperceptibly toward each other. Both wore glazed expressions and carried dark circles under their eyes as they listened to the words of Admiral Gardner.

"On behalf of Starfleet, and myself," he turned briefly to face the couple nearest him as he concluded the service, "our deepest sympathies go out to the family and friends of Elizabeth T'Mir Tucker and her parents. May she rest in peace."

Slowly but steadily the dignitaries and officials began to depart until only the Enterprise crew and a few select civilians were left beside the new grave. Eventually, even most of them made their way across the open green lawn, but one man silently approached the sullen couple.

"Trip?" Archer began in an almost whisper. "T'Pol?" The Captain started to reach out for his best friends, but pulled himself back when Trip's eyes turned toward his. The absolute loss behind his deep blue orbs caused Archer to catch his breath. Looking down to avoid facing that pain again, he continued. "I just wanted to let you know that I've spoken with Admiral Gardner and we agree. You should both take as much leave time as you need. Stay on Earth; visit your parents, Trip. T'Pol, you could go to Vulcan and visit Mt. Seleya." He fumbled; seeking the words that would help before realizing there weren't any. "Whatever you want. Just, take care of yourselves." The Captain looked them over once again and amended his statement. "Take care of each other."

The couple's gaze met briefly before Tucker turned back to his oldest friend. "Thanks, Cap'n, but we'd really rather just get back to Enterprise."

A puzzled frown crossed Archer's expression. "Are you sure, Trip? I mean, your parents…"

"My parents are fine, sir. I talked to 'em again this mornin'." He released a heavy sigh and tried to relax his face into a gentle smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Really, Jon, it's okay. Yeah, I was disappointed that they weren't comin' to the service," his voice dropped to a whisper at the last words, "but I understand. It was just too painful for them. They've only just started to recover from losing their daughter." Trip's eyes looked down to the small rectangle of dark dirt and stayed there; he barely croaked out, "They couldn't deal with us losing ours, too."

Throughout this exchange T'Pol had not moved, or even acknowledged the conversation going on around her, but now she looked up at her commanding officer. "I concur, Captain. We would prefer to return to our duties and Enterprise as soon as possible."

Archer dragged a rough hand over his clean-shaven face before tugging at the collar of his dress uniform. "All right, then, if that's really what you both want," he conceded. "Enterprise leaves orbit in 72 hours. I'll see you onboard in 48," he shook his head at the imminent protest, "and not one minute before."

"Aye, sir," Trip muttered.

T'Pol gave a curt nod.

As the Captain walked away, he looked back over his shoulder once. His slight shock at the scene of his normally reserved Vulcan First Officer leaning heavily on Trip as his shoulders were wracked by deep sobs was quickly replaced by a feeling of relief. "Thank God they have each other," he thought before continuing down the path toward his transport.

In another star system and on another world, a young Tellarite man stood proudly before his parents. "I'm sorry you feel that way, but this is my decision and one that I'm sticking to!"

"I don't understand, Grik. How can you even think to serve on a Starfleet vessel? They stink like yesterday's garbage and as for the humans, well…" his father trailed off as his already piggish nose squished up further at the thought.

At that, his mother burst into tears. "It's not right, it's just not right," she wailed. The older man went to his wife and cuddled her against his round form.

"Now you've upset your mother! That's it; there'll be no more talk of this Starfleet officer exchange program. You will serve the Tellarite Space Command just as every other male in our family for generations!" He turned to lead his distraught spouse out of the room, but was stopped by the strength emanating from Grik's throat.

"It's too late for that, father. Whether you approve or not, I have already volunteered and been accepted for the program by the TSC. I will leave on Enterprise in a few days time." Grik squared his shoulders and met his father's steely gaze.

With a heavy sigh, Viat stared at his son as his wife's cries became louder. "Fine, have it your way, but so long as you wear that..that..uniform don't come back here. I'll have no son in Starfleet." He turned his back once more and led his mate to have a rest.

Archer entered the shuttle-bay as soon as the green light signaled that repressurization was complete. He strode across the platform to greet his friends as they emerged from the fully loaded craft. His gaze darted across the faces of his crew as they returned from their brief visits planet-side in search of the officers that completed his command staff. At last, he saw Tucker's tired form.

"Welcome back, Trip," he said gently while glancing over the shoulder of his engineer. "Where's T'Pol?"

"She'll be back later today," he answered as they made their way to the corridor, trailing behind the rest of the recently returned personnel.

A question furrowed the Captain's brow. "I thought she was with you."

Trip slung his duffle bag over his shoulder. "Nah, she spent her time at the Vulcan compound. She said she needed to meditate and that she was gonna try to meet up with Soval." The disappointment echoed through Trip's words.

"You don't sound too happy about that," Archer commented.

The duo stopped and turned to face each other. Trip looked around quickly to confirm that they were now alone in the passageway. He pulled a hand through his hair. "Yeah, well, I guess I just figured she'd want to be with me, ya know? I sure as hell woulda preferred bein' with her. I thought we could help each other get through this thin' better than anyone else, but instead she stayed in that damned compound and I couldn't even get in to see her."

"I'm sorry, Trip." The regret was sincere as the Captain went on. "I'm sure she just needed some time to herself."

Tucker nodded absently. "Yeah, I know." He looked down the hallway and gestured vaguely with his thumb. "I better get unpacked, Cap'n. I'll see ya later."

"Of course." He debated whether to go on, but decided he would. "If you're feeling up to it, there's a gathering in the Captain's Mess tonight, 1800, for Travis."

"Travis?" Tucker questioned.

"He's been transferred to Earth, along with a shiny new promotion. He'll be teaching at the academy." Archer allowed a little bit of pride to show through as he explained.

Both of Trip's eyebrows went up and a genuine smile softly turned up his lips. "I'll do my best to be there, sir."

Captain's Personal Log:

"We're on-route to Tellar to pick up our new helmsman. He's part of the new officer exchange program; to be honest, I'm not sure how I feel about having a Tellarite on my bridge, but Starfleet says we're starting down the path to a true partnership with our stellar neighbors and this is the first step." Archer paused as he took a deep swallow of his bourbon. The amber liquid warmed him through while he considered how to continue.

"On a more personal note, I'm very concerned for my friends. Trip and T'Pol are back on duty, and while I can't fault their performance, they seem to be shadows of their former selves. I had hoped they would pull together to cope with the loss of Elizabeth, but it seems as if they're more distant than ever."

The Captain depressed the toggle to end recording before he slammed back the last of his drink. Rising slowly from the small desk, he called for Porthos. "Come on, boy. Let's take a short walk before bed."

The happy beagle didn't have to be told twice. He was anxiously waiting at the door before Archer finished standing.

Cold sweat covered his body from head to toe as he struggled to free himself from an imaginary foe. The sheets wrapped around his form mercilessly while he twisted repeatedly from side to side. In one final gesture of futility, he flung himself wildly across the bed and landed hard on the floor.

"Damn!" Trip swore as he woke up on impact with the surface. He thought back to the nightmare that had plagued him since his return to Enterprise. Closing his eyes in concentration, he visualized the image of T'Pol sitting in her white space.

He approached her cautiously, reaching tenderly out to her. Suddenly, her eyes shot open and her face filled with fear. "No! Don't touch me!" Standing, she turned and ran away.

At first, he hesitated but then he followed. Soon they left the white space to be surrounded by an ever-increasing darkness until finally Trip felt the oppressive black physically pressing in on him. He struggled for breath while at the same time trying to find T'Pol.

His lungs worked hard sucking the air in. Idly he wondered if this is what drowning must feel like when he began to feel light-headed. His hands groped out wildly, reaching for T'Pol even though he could no longer see her or even sense her presence. At last the need for oxygen overwhelmed him and a sense of self-preservation kicked in, forcing him to thrust his body back toward where the white space had been in one violent motion.

And that's when he awoke on the floor. With a heavy sigh, he dragged himself back up to the bed. "That's it! I'm gonna make that woman talk to me, whether she likes it or not!"

Lieutenant Reed stood beside Captain Archer outside the airlock. "I don't know, sir. It's going to be a difficult adjustment."

Archer shot the Englishman a look of understanding. "That's what we do best, Malcolm. We adapt to the new and different. That's what we're out here for."

"Aye, sir," Reed replied with a tiny bit of skepticism leaking through.

The airlock hissed softly as the pressure equalized. When the seals opened and the door slid aside, it revealed a pudgy, pig-snouted Tellarite wearing a Starfleet jumpsuit carrying the rank of ensign. He looked up sharply at his new commander.

"Captain Archer. Ensign Grik reporting for duty. Permission to come aboard?" His shoulders pulled back tightly at the closest approximation of attention that his physical shape would allow.

Reed and Archer shared a look of confusion over the head of their newest officer before the Captain addressed him. "Permission granted, Ensign. At ease and welcome to Enterprise." He gestured toward Malcolm. "This is Lieutenant Reed. He'll show you to your quarters and help you get settled in."

"Thank you, sir. I look forward to serving with such a distinguished group of officers."

The Captain and chief of security gave each other another look of surprise as Archer broke off from the small group to make his way back to the bridge.

"So, tell me, what's he like?" Hoshi asked before plunging her forkful of salad into her mouth.

Malcolm looked thoughtful for a moment then he just shook his head. "I really don't know. He's not like any Tellarite we've met before."

She chewed rapidly and swallowed hard. "How so?"

"You really like to be in the know, don't you?" Reed laughed. Her eyes widened and her brows went up in feigned shock. "All right," he continued, "for one thing he was very polite. His respect for the Captain seemed genuine and he didn't insult me once in the whole hour I spent briefing him."

Hoshi cocked her head sideways as she contemplated this news. "I can hardly wait to meet him."

Across the mess hall T'Pol sat staring out the window in distraction while her tea grew cold.

"Mind if I join you?" Trip asked, causing her to almost jump in surprise.

"I did not hear you approach," she replied softly.

He nodded. "That doesn't answer my question," he said.

She rose and gathered up her teacup. "Actually, I was just about to return to my quarters."

"Even better. I'll join you." It was a statement, not a request and she acknowledged the difference with a raised eyebrow.

"Very well then."

They walked silently to her cabin. She opened the door and Trip followed her inside without a word.

"Now that you are here, what can I do for you, Commander?" she asked when they were finally alone.

Trip moved across the room and stood gazing out at the passing stars. "So, we're back to 'Commander'. I might've known."

A slight hiss of exasperation escaped her lips as she clasped her hands behind her. "I don't know what you mean."

"Of course you don't," he said as he moved quickly to stand directly in front of her. He wanted to reach out and shake some sense into her, but knew that would accomplish nothing. "Just like you don't know about my nightmares? Wanna tell me why every time I get close to you, you run away? And what's with the blackness where I can't even breathe?"

She lowered her eyes as a wave of guilt passed through her. "I am sorry," she squeaked out in a small voice.

Suddenly, he felt like a total heel for making her deal with him right now. Gently, he reached out to place a finger under her chin and tilt her head up. As soon he touched her though, she pulled back sharply. Her eyes met his in a wild, animalistic haze.

"Dammit, T'Pol! What's goin' on!?" He dragged a hand through his hair. "Why are you shutting me out?" His voice became a whisper, "Let me help you."

"I don't need help," she growled between clenched teeth. "Now please go." She stood aside to allow him access to the doorway.

Trip walked slowly toward the hatch, but paused before he opened it. As he turned back to face her, she could see the unshed tears glisten brightly in his eyes. "Fine, you don't need my help," his voice was gravelly with emotion, "but did you ever think that maybe I need yours?" The door opened and he left her alone.

Grik imagined that no Tellarite had ever been happier. He could hardly wait to start his first duty shift at the helm of Enterprise, so he arrived on the bridge more than ten minutes early. He paced eagerly along the back walkway, mentally ticking off the seconds until he would finally sit in the front chair and guide the massive ship along her way through the stars.

Captain Archer emerged from his ready room, cup of coffee in hand, and smiled to himself at the excited young man – no, make that Tellar, he corrected himself. It had been too long since anyone on the bridge had been that cheerful. Sparing a quick glance at the ship's chronometer, he decided the poor ensign had suffered long enough.

"Okay, Ensign Michaels," he called to the man currently seated at the helm. "Call it a day. It's just a few extra minutes, but maybe it'll be enough for you to get first choice in the galley."

Turning in his seat, the tall red-headed officer smiled at the Captain. "Aye, sir. And thanks!" He made a hasty retreat for the turbolift, sparing a quick wink at Grik as he passed by.

When the Tellarite didn't proceed immediately to his post, the Captain turned his chair around. The previously excited ensign now appeared shocked and more than a little frightened. Laughing, Archer said, "Well, come on, Ensign Grik. The ship's not going to fly herself!"

Grik looked anxiously around the bridge and met the smiling faces of most of the senior staff; T'Pol merely raised an eyebrow in response. He moved cautiously forward, his pace increasing as he got nearer the helm. At last, he took the seat vacated moments before by Ensign Michaels and ran his hands appreciatively over the control panel. As he relaxed into the chair, applause rang out through the command center.

"All right, people," Archer said with a smile, "back to work. I believe, Mr. Grik, that that is their way of saying 'welcome to the bridge'."

"Thank you, sir." Grik was now certain that no Tellarite had ever been happier.

Trip sat on his bunk, arms resting on his thighs as he held his head in his hands. His shoulders heaved softly as silent sobs were pulled from his chest. He'd never cried so much in his life, but even after days of it, still didn't feel like he could stop.

The sound of the door chime forced the engineer to pull himself together. He swiped the fresh tears from his cheeks and called out, "Come in," as he stood to face his visitor.

T'Pol looked frail as she entered Trip's quarters. She met his eyes and he could see the green rims around her almond shaped orbs that indicated she'd been crying as well. "Trip, may we speak?"

End Episode One

The Hounds of War

By: Angel Koerkel

Disclaimers: I don't own Enterprise, Star Trek, or any of the series characters. This is for entertainment only.

Genre: Episodic

Rating: PG, mild swearing

Archive: FF.N and T/T'Pers

Summary: Episode Two of Virtual Season Five. Enterprise responds to a distress call from an isolationist planet.

Notes: Thanks for all the positive feedback to Moving Forward! In answer to some of the questions I received: yes, this will be (hopefully) a virtual season, or more accurately a mini-season. Probably around a half-dozen episodes or so. I am more than open to anyone who wants to collaborate, perhaps writing their own episode. Please contact me privately if you're interested at: phased energy blast rocked the very foundation of the building. Sha'rol felt it shake as she crawled across the floor. Broken glass and rubble imbedded in her delicate palms and knees, but she ignored the pain. It was nothing compared to the ache coming from the side of her head anyway. Reaching up, she swiped her arm across her eyes to clear the thick, pink blood that settled there.

Another explosion shook the world and caused Sha'rol to fall flat onto her stomach. Moaning softly, she pulled herself back up once the building stopped moving. She resumed her painstakingly slow movement. 'Almost there,' she thought. 'Just a little further.'

At last, her hand reached up and grasped the counter. She dragged herself up to standing. Looking over the panel, she grew angry. Furiously, she began banging on the darkened controls. "NO!" she yelled. "It can't be!"

She'd known that there was little chance the communications relay would still be functional, but had managed to convince herself that if she could just get there, it would be okay. Now she was faced with the reality of not being able to call for help.

Regaining her temper, she set about trying to jury-rig the panel just long enough to get a message out. It took her nearly an hour, with the building threatening to collapse the entire time, but finally she'd done it. She looked over the quick work one last time before hitting the record button.

"This is Ramy Four. We need help. We are under attack by an unknown alien vessel. We are peaceful people and our planet is defenseless. Please hurry."

With the message complete, Sha'rol depressed the transmit key and then slumped down to the floor. She'd barely made contact with the surface before the walls began to shake again. Closing her eyes, she didn't see the ceiling crash down upon her, sending the entire building plummeting to the planet's surface.

XXXX

"Trip, may we speak?" The words were barely a whisper, but he heard them loud and clear.

T'Pol's eyes met Tucker's as they faced each other across the small space. He raised his hand to her hesitantly and waited anxiously until she reached out and clasped it firmly. They pulled together and their bodies met.

Almost instantly, Trip began stroking her hair as she clasped his back tighter. "I'm so sorry, darlin'," he muttered against her chestnut locks. She pulled back slightly to look into his face.

"Why are you apologizing?" she asked as her pain lessened in the comfort of his embrace.

Taking a deep breath, he began. "I'm sorry for making you feel like you owed me something. I'm sorry for being too weak to be strong for you." He bowed his head. "I'm sorry I couldn't save her."

She placed her finger under his chin and raised his eyes to hers once again. "That is the most illogical thing you have ever said." He actually smiled at her gentle teasing. "Trip, you are the strongest man I know. And, I do owe you something, myself. As for the rest," she paused as they stared at each other with fresh pain in their hearts. "No one could have saved her."

They separated slightly as they both breathed deeply, calming the rising tide of emotions. "It is I who owe you an apology. The past year has been…difficult for me. First, we lost Lorian. Then there was my mockery of a marriage and the loss of my mother. When Elizabeth died as well, I did not know how to control the pain any longer, but now I know what I – we - need." She met his gaze with her own and continued, "I have been selfish with my sorrow. If you will allow me, I would appreciate it if we could help each other through this difficult time."

In answer, he drew her tight against him once more.

Xxxxx

Enterprise cruised along at a comfortable warp 2.7, finally resuming her long-stalled mission of exploration. Captain Archer sat back in his command chair, reviewing the daily reports of half a dozen department heads. As he chuckled softly at some comment, Hoshi captured his attention.

"Captain?" she said. "We're receiving a signal. Audio only, it's a recorded message."

"Let's hear it," he answered, instantly alert.

A sharp hiss, followed by crackling static, cried out over the speaker system. Sato pressed a few buttons and turned a dial as the sound cleared up enough to make out a voice between the pops and hisses.

"Need help….attack….unknown….planet…defenseless….hurry."

"That's all I can get, sir," the communications officer offered.

Nodding in understanding, Archer turned to her. "Who's it from? Do we have a location?"

"It's coming from a planet in the Ramy system."

T'Pol spoke up for the first time as she looked into her viewer, consulting her computer. "Confirmed sir. Ramy Four is a Minshara class planet. Vulcan encountered them nearly two centuries ago, but the population was isolationistic and did not desire further contact. They are warp capable, but use their technology only for exploration close to their home planet."

"All right, well now they're asking for help." Archer paced the length of the bridge, stopping behind the helmsman. "Ensign Grik, set a course for Ramy. Warp 5."

XXXX

The senior staff was gathered around the conference table, listening to the recorded distress call. As the message completed, Hoshi shut it off.

"That's all we know," the Captain said. "We should arrive at Ramy Four within," he looked to T'Pol.

"Two days, ten hours, twenty-two minutes, sir."

"Two and a half days," Archer continued with a smile toward his first officer. Turning serious again, he continued, "I expect all departments at top efficiency. We don't know what we'll find when we get there. It may be a rescue mission for survivors; it may be a defensive mission against their attacker. We need to be ready for anything." He met the experienced gazes of his crew around the table and was filled with a sense of pride. They would be prepared for whatever this mission held. "Dismissed."

As the room quickly emptied, the Captain called out, "Trip? Would you stay a minute?"

A puzzled frown crossed the Engineer's face, but he remained and moved closer to his commanding officer and friend.

When everyone else had gone, he turned toward him. "Yes, Cap'n?"

"How are you?" Archer waved off the pat answer he was about to receive. "I mean, really. How are you? How's T'Pol?" He paused while he debated within himself whether to continue before deciding to go on. "You know, as Captain, I'm supposed to discourage fraternization. But, as your friend," he trailed off, suddenly not sure how to finish the thought.

With a heavy sigh, Trip pulled a hand through his hair. "I'm not gonna lie to you, it's been rough. But, it's getting better, a little bit every day. Me and T'Pol, well, we're finally starting to help each other." He looked at his long-time friend. "Thanks for asking."

XXXX

Commander Tucker entered the mess hall followed by T'Pol. Together they went to gather up their meals. As she placed a small salad on her tray and started to turn away, Trip placed his hand firmly on her arm and pulled her back to the food counter. Their voices were too low to be heard, but his face appeared irritated.

"I can't believe that!" Grik said softly to Lieutenant Reed as they watched the scene from their table.

"What?" Reed asked.

Looking sideways toward his companion, the young Tellarite officer whispered excitedly, "That! He touched her arm! I thought Vulcans hated to be touched."

Smiling, Reed resumed his eating as if nothing had happened. "Yes, well, Commanders T'Pol and Tucker are very close."

Grik's snout crinkled in what Reed had come to recognize as a look of doubt or question. "I don't understand, sir."

"Sometimes, even the staunchest of preconceptions needs to be challenged, Ensign." Reed smirked at the young officer.

At their table in the corner, Tucker prepared to dig into his meat and potato dinner as T'Pol picked daintily at the greens scattered around her plate. "I still say you needed to take more food, T'Pol," he admonished.

"I appreciate your concern, Commander; however, my salad is sufficient to meet my nutritional needs today." Her reply would've seemed curt to anyone listening, but Trip felt her sincere gratitude at his care. Their relationship had remained as undefined as ever, but he could still feel the gentle swell of emotion along the bond they shared.

A jolt of frustration flared within him as he thought of the ambiguous nature of their relationship, but he squelched it quickly. There would time for them later, when they were healed.

XXXX

Hoshi Sato sat hunched over her communications console. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she replayed the distress call repeatedly, each time trying different combinations of algorithms hoping for a clearer message, more details, anything that might help them prepare. Lost as she was in her world of mathematics and sound waves, she didn't notice the set of eyes resting on her back.

Jonathan Archer tried not to stare at the bent figure of his communications officer. It wasn't easy. Sure, he'd noticed she was an attractive woman before, but lately, after everything that had happened with Trip and T'Pol, something was different. Gradually, he'd found that he thought of the lovely Ensign more and more often. 'Ensign,' he thought as he shook himself out of his reverie. 'No matter how beautiful she is, no matter how intelligent, kind, caring, adventurous, no matter any of it. She's an ensign! On your ship, Jon!' he reminded himself with a sharp mental slap.

A questioning tap on the shoulder brought the Captain back to the present reality. Looking up, he saw the broad smile of Dr. Phlox. "Ah, Captain, I'm sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to bring you my departmental status report before going to dinner."

"That's fine, Doctor. Thank you," he said taking the proffered padd. Rising, he headed toward the turbolift with the Denobulan physician. "Dinner sounds like a great idea. Mind if I join you?"

XXXX

Lieutenant Reed watched over his console as he adjusted the controls for the phase cannons. A power spike registered as he flipped the input switch, but with a practiced hand he returned the flow to its proper readings.

Across the bridge, Archer paced. Pausing at the railing nearest Hoshi, he asked, "Anything yet, Ensign?"

"No, sir. Still nothing."

As he was about to resume his aimless walk, T'Pol spoke up. "Captain? I'm reading an energy surge. It's located at the coordinates for Ramy Four, sir. We should be arriving there momentarily."

Nodding, Archer went to his seat. "Keep monitoring, T'Pol. Any other ships around? Any idea what the energy surge is?"

"There are no other ships present," she answered, bowed over her viewer so that her face was softly illuminated. "The energy reading seems to be coming from the planet's surface."

Enterprise glided into a high orbit as she completed her scans. "Life signs?" the Captain asked.

Looking up, T'Pol answered, "None, sir." Her tone was soft, almost regretful.

He stared at her intensely, not daring to believe what he'd heard. "None? How is that possible? According to our records in the Vulcan database, this planet had a population of millions."

"Unknown, Captain. The energy picked up by sensors appears to be a residual fluctuation from a massive weapon."

"All right, Reed," the Captain turned to face his Armory Officer, "you're with me and get a MACO, too." Now Archer toggled a switch on his chair. "Archer to Engineering. Trip? You there?"

"Yes, Cap'n?" the disembodied voice floated up from the speaker near Archer's hand.

"Trip, meet me in the shuttle bay."

"On my way, sir." An audible click disconnected the channel.

"T'Pol, you have the bridge." Archer strode purposefully to the turbolift, followed closely by Reed.

XXXX

A short time later, the Enterprise team was walking sadly along what had obviously been a major thoroughfare. Their radiation suits shone brightly in the afternoon sun. They stepped carefully around the bodies lying haphazardly all over the path.

"According to the Vulcan database, this was the capital city." Archer shook his head solemnly. "What could have caused this?"

"I don't know, sir, but I don't think the radiation was the only culprit." Tucker pointed ahead toward where the road ended in what had been an ornately decorated circular pathway. At the farthest point, a mountain of rubble lay.

"That would've been the capital building," Reed said. Even with his fondness for blowing things up, the weapons expert felt nauseated by the destruction that surrounded them.

Archer nodded in reluctant acceptance. "Okay, let's see if we can find out what happened here. Trip, you head over that way," he indicated what appeared to be another government building lining the street and the MACO walking with them. "Take Corporal Tomlinson with you, and see if you can find a computer, some kind of recording, anything that might give us a clue. Reed, you're with me." With that, the small group separated.

XXXX

Several hours later, Trip stared at his reflection. His door chime sounded abruptly and he wrapped a towel around his lower half before calling out, "Come in."

T'Pol walked majestically into the small room. She sized up the engineer in one quick motion. Sensing his need, she approached and reached out to him. She placed her hand along his cheek and drew his face gently to her. "How are you, Trip?" Her whispered tone was like a verbal caress.

He rested his forehead against hers and sighed. "I've seen some horrible things since we launched Enterprise," he began, "but nothing like that. An entire planet, dead." He closed his eyes and just breathed.

She doubted he realized it, but his practice of the Vulcan breathing techniques was nearly perfect. As she watched, they had the desired effect and he began to visibly calm. "I am sorry you had to witness that. Can I help?"

"You already have." His answer was sincere and he pulled her body closer until they were in direct contact. Holding her close, he breathed in her scent, one of exotic spices and an earthy goodness that left him longing for more. At last though, he knew it had to end. "I should probably get dressed. Captain gave us a half hour to clean up, but I really need to report back in so we can get busy finding whoever did this."

The briefest of nods escaped her. "Agreed. We have been scanning the planet and atmosphere systematically. So far, we have no new information, but something may be forthcoming." Pulling back slightly, she released her hold on him. "I will see you on the bridge."

As she left his quarters, Trip realized he felt renewed like he would not have thought possible just a few moments ago. Shaking his head, he dropped his towel and grabbed up a clean uniform.

XXXX

Archer had barely cleared the lift doors when T'Pol looked up. "Sir, I may have found something." She manipulated the control panel once more and looked again at the display before her.

The Captain had come to stand over her shoulder, anxiously awaiting some news. "Well?" he questioned impatiently.

"It seems that we have found traces of a warp signature. It's faded and partially hidden by atmospheric dispersal, but it is definitely there." She continued refining her scans as she narrowed in on the signal.

"Can you tell what kind of ship made it?"

She looked up and met his eyes. "It's Romulan, sir."

His anger exploded within him like some massive weapon. "Can we follow it?" he ground out through clenched teeth.

"No. The traces have faded too much for that. However, it seems to have headed back toward Romulan space."

Fighting to regain control, he nodded in understanding. "Ensign Sato, place a warning buoy around the planet. Then, get me Admiral Gardner." Breathing deeply, he turned toward the helm. "Ensign Grik, maintain orbit for now, but set a course back to Earth, be ready to engage it at my command."

"Aye, sir," the Tellarite answered shakily. He'd never seen an angry human before and he wasn't so sure that he liked it. For all of his father's bluster about the weakness of this race, he thought that right now, this particular human, would rip anyone to shreds that dared to get in his way, including a Tellarite.

XXXX

His computer console bleeped as he made yet another pass around his ready room. He covered the distance to it in two large steps. Depressing the button harder than he needed to, he said, "Yes, Hoshi?"

"I've got Admiral Gardner for you, sir."

"Put him through," Archer said as he forced himself to sit.

The weathered face of the admiral appeared quickly on the screen. "Well, Jon? What's the situation at Ramy Four?"

"Romulans, sir. The planet is devastated, no survivors. We can't track their warp signature, but T'Pol assures me they were headed back toward their home space." His answer was concise, but complete.

"Dammit, Jon." The admiral drew a hand across his face in a weary gesture.

Sitting back slightly in his chair, Archer continued. "We've placed a warning buoy in orbit. The planet is an ocean of radiation, not to mention the bodies. God, it was awful." For just a moment, he seemed to see with an inner eye, but quickly he shook his head as if to clear it of an unpleasant image.

"All right, head back here. Negotiations are going well. We don't want any of the delegates to find out about this and panic." He paused while he considered what to do.

Archer looked ready to dispute that order, even though he'd already told Grik to set a course, he wasn't ready to head back yet.

"Just come home for now. Enterprise can serve as host ship for traveling delegates for a while. Let Columbia handle the dirty work, you guys are too high profile."

"Aye, sir," the Captain conceded as Gardner closed out the channel.

XXXX

Trip and T'Pol sat as mirror images of each other, cross-legged in front of a dancing flame with closed eyes, but each in their own quarters. As they breathed in and out, first deeply then more shallowly, each of them drifted into a trance-like state.

At once, Trip found himself surrounded by the white space of T'Pol's mind. He approached her as she rose from her seated position. Smiling softly, he reached out to her. She entered the circle of his arms without hesitation.

"God, do I need to hold you," he mumbled into her hair.

"And I you," she whispered in response.

XXXX

End Episode Two

Lies of Omission

By: Angel Koerkel

Genre: Episodic

Rating: PG

Summary: Third episode of my virtual season five.

Disclaimers: I don't own Enterprise, and I'm not making any money off this.

Notes: Sorry this took so long. It's been crazy around here lately! Hope you enjoy, and remember, feedback! Lots and lots of feedback!

XXXX

"Hello Mother, Father. It has been an interesting few weeks on Enterprise. We've been in orbit around Earth now for twenty days. So far, we've hosted five diplomatic dinners, given nearly two dozen official tours of the ship, and the senior staff has been invited to speak at three separate conferences for Starfleet." Grik paused for a moment.

He sighed as he imagined the response his letter was likely to receive and wondered again why he was bothering to compose it when it probably would go straight into the delete file without ever being opened. But some part of him wanted to believe that his parents were reading his letters, even if they never responded.

"All is well with me. I have adjusted to life on-board a starship and find it feels like home already." Pausing again, he looked at the chronometer flashing at him from the corner of his computer monitor. "I'm due on duty soon. Be well. Your son, Grik."

As the young officer signed off, the hatchway opened and a tall dark-haired man entered. "Hey, Grikster!" he announced jovially. "How goes bridge duty?" The man walked casually over to the second bunk in the room and plopped down to pull off his boots as he talked.

A bright smile lit up the Tellarite's face. "Hello Tommy. It's good; in fact, I need to be going or I'll be late!" Jumping up, the pig-faced pilot grabbed his data padd and waved goodbye to his roommate.

XXXX

Clouds swirled in the late winter sky over San Francisco. That was okay with Samuels though, they matched his mood. He pondered the cold wind and gray atmosphere as he walked to his apartment after another long day of negotiations. 'Never, in my wildest dreams did I imagine that more time would be spent arguing over the temperature of the conference room than in actual alliance talks! It's too cold for the Vulcans, too hot for the Andorians, and the Tellarites don't care what the temperature is, but the lighting level is all wrong!'

He kicked aimlessly at the ground as he walked, growling softly in frustration. 'How are we ever supposed to reach any kind of long-lasting agreements if we can't even compromise on the damned facilities!'

Turning a corner, Nathan Samuels was surprised when he nearly bumped into a group of three men headed the opposite direction. Without looking up, he offered the best manners he could scrounge up at the moment and mumbled a, "Sorry," before attempting to circle around the trio.

However, as the Earth diplomat maneuvered to the side, so did the other men, effectively blocking his path. This time he looked up to meet their gazes. Now a primal fear ran down his spine as he noticed the men all wore cloaks that hid their faces. "Um, excuse me, gentlemen," he tried as he shifted back in another attempt to pass them.

Swiftly, the group surrounded him and began to tighten the circle they'd formed. Deep inside Samuels felt panic start to rise up in his chest, but his politician's brain kept looking for another way out. "What do you want? I'm a very powerful man. I can get you almost anything." He held his hands up in a gesture of backing off as he turned in place to face each of the men in turn.

Without having uttered a word, the men advanced on him. Somewhere in the darkness, a muffled scream was heard.

XXXX

Sweat poured off of Trip's forehead as he grunted with exertion. His partner was in a similar situation. As the pair moved together their breath came heavy and fast. Finally, seizing the moment, Trip reached out and grasped her arm. Swinging hard over his shoulder, she was thrown to the mat and he was declared the victor of the round.

A slight 'oomph' escaped her lips as T'Pol landed flat on her back. Looking up into her opponent's eyes, she smiled inwardly at the mirth she found there. "Your technique has improved considerably. In fact," she continued as she rose up from the undignified position he had left her in, "you seem to be enjoying your success a little more than is necessary."

He laughed aloud at her discomfort. "Thanks. I've kept up practicing with the MACO's and you're right. I did enjoy that!"

She had turned away from him slightly before hearing the MACO comment, at which she immediately faced him again. She remembered watching him work out with one MACO in particular and the feelings that exercise had evoked. A small scowl crossed her features before she schooled them back into their normally stoic appearance.

Whether from the scowl or from the emotions flooding across their bond, Trip picked up her sudden mood change. Again he laughed, although softer this time. He leaned in closer to her so that only she would hear him in the crowded gymnasium. "What's wrong, darlin'? Jealous?" He shook his head and smirked. "No need to be. I've limited myself to sparring with only males, other than you, of course. But if it'll make ya' feel better, I'd be happy to slap your…" he said as his eyes slid down over her curves to land on the softly rounded area just below her hips.

"That will not be necessary, Commander," she interrupted in clipped tones before he could complete the thought. She turned away from him again to pick up a towel from the nearby bench. As she hid her face deep in the terrycloth, she allowed herself a full smile.

XXXX

Captain Archer sat back in his chair on the bridge of the Enterprise. He sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that hour as the boredom of their most recent assignment wore at his patience for the twentieth straight day.

Intellectually, he understood the need to bring them home right now. The galaxy was a hotbed of political unrest and while Enterprise was Starfleet's flagship, she was also very high profile and had been involved in way too much controversy lately. She needed a break. Her captain, however, felt penned in.

As he pushed himself up to pace the bridge yet again, Hoshi suddenly looked up. "Captain, Admiral Gardner for you. It's urgent, sir."

XXXX

The first thing that Trip noticed about his friend's appearance was the drawn, tired expression he wore. Next was the heavy hunch to his shoulders. Obviously this was a man under a great deal of stress. Odd, since only a short time ago the same man was bored stiff to be commanding a ship that seemed to be endlessly orbiting her home planet.

As the senior staff filed in and took their customary seats around the conference table to be briefed on a recent communication from Starfleet, T'Pol caught Trip's eye and they shared a questioning glance toward the Captain. He shrugged his shoulders almost imperceptibly and she felt a rush of concern aimed at their commander flood across the bond. They moved to take their seats, side by side, so that the briefing could begin.

"I'll get straight to the point," Archer began seconds later. "I just received word from Admiral Gardner that Earth's ambassador to the coalition conference, Nathan Samuels, has been kidnapped." Shocked looks quickly circulated around the table accompanied by a raised Vulcan eyebrow.

Frustrated, the Captain dropped down into his chair at the head of the table. "Starfleet received a copy of a message sent to Earth's government demanding that the conference be halted and that all aliens be removed from the planet within forty-eight hours or Samuels will be killed."

"It's must be Terra Prime, sir," Reed offered. "After all, it's not as if they haven't made their feelings on the issue clear. This is just another tactic." He cast a downward glance toward Tucker and T'Pol with his last statement.

Archer raised his gaze to meet his best friend's and his first officer's. The look of pain evident in Trip's eyes was almost as fresh as it had been the day of Elizabeth's funeral. "That was Starfleet's first thought, too, Lieutenant. However, they don't believe that's the case this time." He paused for a moment as he took a deep, steadying breath. "Evidence of a Romulan phase weapon discharge was uncovered at the location they think Samuels was taken from."

XXXX

The doors to sickbay opened with a soft whoosh several hours after the briefing ended. Before they had re-closed, Phlox emerged from his office to see who had come to call at this time of the night. "Ah, Commander Tucker," he started with his usual broad smile firmly in place. "What can I do for you this evening?"

"Hey, Doc," the engineer began as he looked bashfully down at the deck plating. "Got anything to help me sleep?"

The physician gave the young man a good look and noticed his haggard appearance, the wrinkled t-shirt and bare feet under loose fitting sweatpants. He raised an eyebrow in question. "I thought you used meditation with T'Pol to aid in sleeplessness these days, along with neuropressure when needed of course."

Sighing, Trip met his friend's gaze. "Yeah, well, let's just say I didn't feel like sharing the reason I'm having trouble sleeping tonight with her."

Now a look of concern crossed the Denobulan's features. "Would you like to tell me the problem?"

"Not really, but you probably aren't going to let me be until I do, are you?" Knowing he had little choice, Trip inwardly admitted that he did want to tell someone, and who better than Phlox, under doctor-patient privilege of course. "This is just between us, right, Doc?" At the nod from his doctor, Tucker went on.

"I couldn't relax tonight because I've been feeling guilty ever since that meeting with the Captain about Samuels. See, I hadn't even realized it until Malcolm mentioned Terra Prime, but it's been a few days since I thought about Elizabeth." He hung his head low in shame. "I mean, it's been over a month now since the funeral and I guess I just got comfortable with my life again and almost happy even. Then, Mal brought up those bastards and my world came crashing down all over again, but this time it seemed worse cause I hadn't even realized that she hasn't been in my thoughts lately."

Tucker looked up expecting to see a look of mortification on the face of his friend, what he found was calm understanding. He trudged on. "So, now I feel guilty for not thinking of her enough and I feel like I got caught with my britches down for it. Plus, the one person I usually go to when I feel like crap I can't talk to cause it'd just hurt her to know that I've been neglecting our daughter's memory. Does any of this make sense?"

Phlox laughed softly and placed a caring hand on Trip's shoulder. "You make yourself miserable, Commander. It is perfectly normal to begin to move on with your life. I daresay that Elizabeth's life is enhanced by your willingness to continue living. So, there's no reason to feel guilty for being happy. As for discussing this with T'Pol, you may find that she is in a similar state, only even more confused than you are by it since she has had much less acceptance of emotions like guilt in her life."

He paused as he walked over to a cabinet and slid back the glass panel door. Reaching in, he retrieved a small bottle and brought it back to his friend. "Here, you can take two of these for tonight, but no more." Trip furrowed his eyebrows and pursed his lips as he reached for the tablets. "Talk to her, Commander. Help each other through this as you have the past weeks. I think you'll find that grieving and recovering from the loss of your child is going to be an ongoing, life-long process that never completely goes away. You must cling to each other on the difficult days as much as you enjoy each other on the pleasant days."

Nodding hesitantly, Trip took the pills. "Thanks, Doc. I'll see her tomorrow. Promise."

XXXX

Samuels woke up in pain. He couldn't pinpoint where on his body hurt. It just hurt everywhere, like when you have the flu and every joint and muscle aches, only ten times worse. He tried to open his eyes, only to discover that he'd been blindfolded. His mouth was dry and tasted terrible, but at least he wasn't gagged. "Hey! Is there anybody there?"

"Shut up, human." A gruff voice echoed around him. The low hum of machinery filled up the background noise and a steady vibration rumbled through the ground.

"Do you know who you're dealing with? I'm Nathan Samuels, Earth Ambassador…"

A swift backhand across the mouth effectively stopped his speech. "Of course we know who you are. Do you think we randomly kidnap humans off the street?" Now a low whisper against his ear maintained his silence, "Now, you will do as you're told, or you will die."

XXXX

Reed walked briskly along the cold streets of San Francisco. He was headed toward Starfleet Command to be brought up to date on the investigation, but he wanted to take the long way. He'd started at Samuels' apartment to trace the route the older man would've taken home in reverse.

When he came upon the kidnap site, it was guarded by armed personnel from Starfleet, MACO's, and Earth's government. He approached confidently and nodded cordially to the officer in command. "Lieutenant Reed, Enterprise." His greeting was succinct, but all that was necessary. The officer moved aside and let him into the roped off area.

The Englishman didn't expect to find anything new, but sometimes just being in a place where a crime had occurred caused ideas to form. He cast his eyes around, the surrounding area was untouched. There didn't seem to have been a struggle at all.

Finally accepting that he wouldn't learn anything here, he continued on his way to Command. As he reached his destination, he noticed a group of the delegates standing along the walkway in deep discussion. There were several Andorians, a few Tellarites, and seemingly the entire Vulcan party.

"It would be illogical for the kidnappers to return Mr. Samuels," Soval was saying as Reed came closer.

"Not everyone uses logic to determine their actions, Soval," came the response from Ambassador Thoris of the Andorian delegation. "Kidnapping is not a logical means to achieve a desired outcome."

The Tellarite Ambassador spoke up, "I don't care about logic or emotions, Samuels has been a fine spokesman for our meetings, despite being human, and I for one want to see his safe return!"

"Agreed," Soval responded. "The Vulcan government stands ready to assist Earth in any way to see to it."

Thoris nodded enthusiastically, "As does that of Andoria."

"Good, then we are in agreement. Our governments will offer services to Earth's leaders," Vego, the Tellarite concluded as Reed passed by the unlikely grouping. He shook his head at the aliens and thought of the irony that they should finally agree on something and kidnapping and murder threats are all it took to motivate them.

XXXX

After shifting himself around surreptitiously for what felt like days, Samuels had managed to maneuver his blindfold's edge enough that he could finally see past it. At first, the brightness of the room startled him, but as his vision cleared he noticed his surroundings.

Control panels lined the walls and a central console took up most of the middle of the room. It seemed he'd been left alone for the time being since he didn't see anyone around, when a figure emerged from the far side of the center controls.

As he moved further into Samuels' line of sight, the politician could barely keep silent. The first things he noticed were the pointed ears and the slight green tint to the skin.

XXXX

Thirty-six hours after receiving the ransom message, Earth's leaders were in a quandary. "We do not negotiate with terrorists, sir," Admiral Gardner repeated to the President for the twentieth time.

"I am well aware of our policies, Admiral," President Stein responded. "But, dammit, Nathan is a good man, he's served our planet for most of his life…"

"And he's your friend," Captain Archer added softly to the end of the President's tirade.

A quick glance at the starship captain revealed the sad truth. "Yes," the President acknowledged.

"Sir, we appreciate that," Gardner said. "But it doesn't change anything. We can not give in to these demands." The officer finished softly as he placed a compassionate hand on the shoulder of his friend and leader.

Stein dropped his head in loss. "I know. But what the hell am I supposed to tell his wife?"

XXXX

A sharp inhalation gave away the fact that he could see. The guard approached and roughly pulled the blindfold the rest of the way off as he aimed a phase pistol at Samuels' head. Another man, presumably in charge, spoke up. "So, you've managed to get a peek. No matter, you won't be around long enough for anyone to find out what you know."

"But..but you're Vulcan," he managed to stutter out around his shock.

A joyless laugh echoed around the chamber. "No, but that's pretty funny. We," he raised his arms to indicate their surroundings, "are Romulan."

Samuels' face went pale and he began to pray.

XXXX

The door chime was loud in the quiet of his quarters. Trip pushed himself up from where he'd been feigning sleep to answer, "Come in."

"Why did you not tell me that you could not sleep?" T'Pol asked softly as she sat down beside him on the bunk.

They sat in silence a moment, side by side on his bed. "It's not a big deal. I'll be fine." Glancing up, he saw the raised eyebrow of doubt. "I'm sorry if I kept you up. I'm still trying to learn to control this bond between us. I guess when I'm tired, it's a little harder." He offered her a quirky smile of apology.

Leaning closer, she said, "Trip, if there's something I can do to help…"

"It's nothing," he jumped up from his place and began pacing the room. "I just…I don't know," he admitted with frustration as he dragged a hand through his hair.

She rose to move beside him again. "I can feel your hesitance to share this problem with me."

Meeting her gaze, he held it for a long minute. Stepping closer to her, he reached out and gently grasped her upper arms. "What are we, T'Pol?" he whispered.

A look of fear and uncertainty flitted across her features before being tucked safely away again, but he saw it. More than that, he felt it. "What do you mean?" she finally managed.

"Don't hand me that. You know what I mean. What are we? Are we friends? Are we lovers? Are we in love?" He pulled her closer until they were mere inches apart. "I know that we have this bond, and I know how I feel about you, but we've been through so much. Is there any way to come back from all the hurt and pain and build something good? I need to know where we're going, if anywhere."

She reached up to tentatively stroke her fingers along his cheek. As she did, he closed his eyes and leaned into her hand. "I don't know, Trip." His eyes shot open and she knew he was afraid of what she might say next. She decided to try another tactic. "Why can't you sleep?"

"You already know, don't you?" he asked, surprised.

T'Pol nodded slightly. "I know enough. I know it has to do with Elizabeth and that you've been feeling tremendous guilt."

"Damn bond," he muttered. "Yeah, I feel like I've abandoned her because I've started to be happy again." At this last, he looked deeply into her eyes.

She leaned in and gave him a chaste kiss. "You don't need to feel guilty for being happy. It would be illogical for us to stop living. That would not serve her memory."

"That's what Phlox said," Trip muttered.

"I know. That's what he told me as well when I spoke with him earlier this evening." Trip looked up sharply. "I'd been having difficulty meditating and went to him for a relaxing agent. He also suggested I speak with you," she finished softly.

After a short moment of silence while she debated how to continue, T'Pol went on. "We are good friends with a powerful past. Before we decide what the future holds for us, perhaps we should concentrate on the present?"

Trip looked down at her and smiled. He ran the fingers of his right hand lightly through her hair and gently stroked the tip of her ear as he did. A slight tremor shook her body as she closed her eyes. "I think you're right, darlin'. We should work on the here and now." With that, he leaned down and kissed her, softly at first but it quickly became more heated.

She returned the kiss with equal fervor as her hands began to roam his body. As they slid over the taut muscles of his back, she pulled him in closer.

His arms closed tightly around her tiny waist before his hands tangled into her dark brown locks. They began to move as one toward the recently abandoned bunk just as the intercom chirped.

"Archer to Commander Tucker." No response.

"Archer to Commander Tucker."

Trip dragged himself away from T'Pol's embrace and punched the com button with more force than was needed. "Tucker here, sir."

"Sorry to call you at this hour, Trip, but I need all the senior officers on the bridge."

They shared a worried look before he responded. "Aye, sir. I'm on my way."

"One more thing, Commander. You don't happen to know where T'Pol is, do you? She's not answering hails in her quarters."

Another shared glance and T'Pol spoke up. "I am here, sir. I will be on the bridge shortly."

After a brief pause, Archer's answer came back. "Very well. Archer out."

XXXX

Trip and T'Pol were the last to arrive on the bridge a short time later. As the officers gathered around their commander, his expression was grim and Trip thought his friend had never looked older.

"We got a call from Admiral Gardner a little while ago." The Captain paused as if unsure how to go on. He breathed deep and pulled a hand across his face. "Columbia received a distress call but when they responded all they found was a buoy alongside Nathan Samuels' body in an uncharted area of space. Captain Hernandez will be bringing him home for an autopsy and funeral."

Tucker held his hand up in disbelief. "Wait a minute, when you say he was found in space, you mean on a planet or something, right?"

Archer turned sad eyes on his friend. "No, Trip, I mean space. From all outward appearances, it seems he was jettisoned out into open space and left to die."

"Oh my God," Hoshi whispered.

XXXX

End Episode Three

Prologues

By: Angel Koerkel

Genre: Episodic

Rating: PG

Summary: Fourth episode of my virtual season five.

Disclaimers: I don't own Enterprise, and I'm not making any money off this.

Notes: This is an unusual case because normally I like to complete a story before posting it. But this one still has a lot of ground to cover, so I decided to make it a two-parter. Think of it as a mini-arc within the virtual season arc. Did that make sense?

Also, I'd like to send out kudos to Trish, whom I have been conversing with via email over the past week or two. Her ideas have been a guiding light in a very long tunnel, so thanks, Trish! Hope you enjoy it.

XXXX

Stale air recirculated around the small scout ship as it transported the General of the Romulan Forces and the leader of the military sciences department from the warbird to the surface of Romulus. The two men argued quietly in the back of the vessel as an eager young officer pretended to not listen in while he piloted them.

"If I could just have another test planet. I'm sure that we can make the needed adjustments," Dr. Ziros nearly pleaded.

"Enough!" spat General Murol. "You have had your chance, it did not work. Why should we lay waste to another planet? The council assigned you a simple task: devise a weapon sufficient to extinguish all humanoid life on a planet, while maintaining its infrastructure and inhabitability. We desire expansion. What good is a planet that is drowning in radiation?"

Breathing deeply, Dr. Ziros tried to explain again. "But, surely you did not expect this to succeed on the first attempt? Weapons development is a delicate process. What harm is there in letting us study the scans we made at Ramy Four and then adjusting the weapon accordingly?"

The pilot cleared his throat in a not-so-subtle way. "Excuse me, sirs, but we will be landing at the Senate Chambers shortly."

The general grunted at the pilot before turning again to the aging scientist. "I will be speaking with the Senate soon. I suggest you stop groveling to me, and prepare to be called before them. They will want to discuss your…failure." Murol stood as the ship touched down on the landing pad.

Ziros felt himself go pale at the thought of giving testimony to the Senate regarding his weapon.

XXXX

Captain Archer walked briskly through the glass doors leading to Admiral Gardner's inner sanctum followed closely by Commanders Tucker and T'Pol. The three officers moved silently toward the desk as the Admiral looked up in greeting. "Jon," he said with an extended hand. Gardner offered his hand to the engineer next. "Commander Tucker, how are you?"

Trip gave a slight nod as he shook the senior officer's hand. "Fine, sir. Thanks for asking."

"And you, Commander T'Pol? You're well, I hope." The experience of a lifetime of diplomacy kept his hand at his side.

T'Pol raised her hand in the traditional Vulcan salute. "I am, sir. Thank you."

Trip smiled inwardly at the ease with which she accepted the Admiral's pleasantries. Not so long ago she would have raised an eyebrow at the illogic of small talk and disregarded the polite platitude completely. He brought his mind back to the moment at hand when Archer spoke up.

"What were the autopsy findings on Ambassador Samuels, sir?"

"Straight to the point, eh Jon?" The Admiral resumed his seat and indicated the chairs opposite his desk for them. Taking a deep breath, he went on. "We can't be certain, of course, but it seems that he was tortured prior to his death."

"Excuse me, sir, but why can we not be certain?" T'Pol asked.

The older man looked at the only Vulcan officer in Starfleet. "Physically, he was not abused, but based on an internal examination, our doctors believe that he may have been subjected to some sort of mental torture."

Nodding, she surmised, "I see. Something similar to the Andorian's methods, I presume, a mind probe of some type."

"Honestly, we just don't know, but it would seem so."

"So, they wanted information?" Tucker asked.

"Possibly."

Captain Archer looked around the room for a moment before hanging his head down. At last, he brought his gaze back up to meet Admiral Gardner's. "Now what, sir?"

Sighing, Gardner answered, "Now, Jon, you go back to Ramy Four. Find out what the hell is going on."

Archer's eyes met his senior officers' as they listened to the Admiral's words. Trip caught a glimpse of something he'd not seen since their time in the Expanse: fierce determination and righteous anger.

"Columbia is going to remain here for a little while. We'll send them back out if you need help, but I think it's wise to keep a starship at home for the time being."

Rising, Archer offered his hand across the desk. "We won't let you down, sir."

"You never have," Gardner said.

XXXX

"And that, gentleman and ladies, is why we should try again." Ziros completed his right of statement and returned to his seat. Sweat beaded across his forehead, but he refused to swipe it away as if that would be acknowledgement of his nervousness.

Half a dozen senators, four male and two female, sat at a semi-circular table waiting to debate the wisdom of continuing the weapons tests. At last, the woman at the far right of the table rose. She paced silently in front of her colleagues for a moment as she met each of their gazes in turn.

Finally, she spoke. "Our latest intelligence reports show that the summit between our enemies is progressing more quickly than we had anticipated. The humans think that petty setbacks like arguing over the location of the talks will hamper proceedings, but we are not so easily distracted. These things will pass quickly, and then it will not be long before a coalition has been formed among them. Once that happens it will be much more difficult for us to acquire planetary bodies without interference from the allied forces."

Continuing her pacing, she clasped her hands behind her back. "General Murol has made his belief clear. These tests are a waste of time and we would be better served to simply use old-fashioned force to take the planets we want." She paused to let that thought hang in the air. "Meanwhile, Dr. Ziros believes that this could prove to be a valuable technology if given the opportunity."

"Ultimately, however, the decision is up to us. We must make the right choice for the Senate and for the Empire. Our job as the Military Sub-Committee is to do what is best for the Romulan people." She looked over the other members of the group once more. "It is time. Decide."

XXXX

"Captain's Log, supplemental. We are en-route to Ramy Four again. It's fallen on us to determine what the Romulans are up to and to stop them if we can." Archer paused as he stroked the long ears of his dog. "I can only hope that this situation is resolved without casualties. Unfortunately, something tells me that we may be looking at more than anyone suspects. This could turn ugly before it's over." He reached out and toggled the switch to end recording.

"Well, Porthos, what do you think? Time for a walk?" He scratched the canine's back softly as he spoke and the dog stretched out lazily under his touch until he heard the word 'walk'. Instantly, he was up and waiting at the door.

Laughing, Archer followed his pet and together they made the evening rounds of the ship they called home.

Flouncing slightly ahead of his master, Porthos rounded a corner and came to an abrupt stop. His human heard a muffled excited yipping from around the bend and when he turned the corner himself, was drawn up in surprise to see T'Pol crouched down and petting said animal.

"Well, I never thought I'd see the day!"

Looking up quickly, but not rising, T'Pol raised an eyebrow at her Captain. "Sir?"

"I never imagined there would come a time when you would be caught willingly petting a dog! Wish I had my camera!" Archer's eyes crinkled in amusement as the thought of capturing the image flashed through his mind.

Finally standing up, she planted her hands firmly at the small of her back. "Really, Captain. I thought you above such menial human emotions."

Now that she was at her full height, he took in the sight of her completely. She was dressed in long flowing Vulcan robes. They were a dusky rose color with intricate scroll work along the midline. Her appearance was nothing short of regal. Stammering out an apology the Captain quickly turned serious. "I'm sorry, T'Pol, we seem to have interrupted your evening. Where were you headed dressed so formally?"

This time it was her turn to be uncomfortable, although she hid it well. A slight green tint flushed over her delicately pointed ear tips before receding back down her neck. "I am on my way to Commander Tucker's quarters for our evening meditation. I find that it improves his punctuality for our appointments if I go to him instead of waiting for him to come to me."

Archer thought he noticed a hint of irritation in her tone, which immediately set him back at ease. "Well don't let me keep you then, Commander. Wouldn't want Trip to accuse you of tardiness!" With a gentle chuckle, he whistled at his furry friend to follow and proceeded down the corridor.

XXXX

Trip was finally getting the hang of the meditation techniques T'Pol had been teaching him. He didn't complain once in more than an hour. At last, though, his patience ran out. "You know, I'm really glad that you're helping me learn how to control this bond and all, but there's only so long I can sit on the floor staring at a flame!"

She peeked out of the corner of one eye to see his quirky smile. "Very well, Trip," she realized that her meditation time was now over for the night. "How would you like to spend the rest of the evening?"

His eyes widened at her blatant flirtation, but he dismissed it just as quickly. She wouldn't know how that statement sounded to a human male. However, his interest was piqued and he felt a surge of arousal begin to burn deep in his belly. "Well, we could watch a movie. Or, we could take a walk. Or…"

T'Pol reached over and grasped the back of his head firmly and pulled him to her for a passionate kiss. When they were forced to separate to breathe, he continued, "or we could do that."

"Indeed, it is much more enjoyable than most of the movies you've chosen in the past." They sat with their foreheads touching for a moment before he caught what she'd said.

"Wait a minute, what do you mean, 'most'?" Suddenly, he was overwhelmed by a feeling of sheer joy. It occurred to him that she was laughing at him! "You were teasing me!"

She leaned into him further and kissed him again.

This time when they separated, he saw a tiny twitch at the corner of her mouth. "You are certainly being playful tonight, darlin'."

"I do not know what you are talking about, Trip. Vulcans are not playful."

"Yeah, right. You know, you're beautiful when you flirt." His tone became deep and husky. Moving around the meditation candles, he pulled her up gently. They stood for a moment, staring into each other's eyes as he stroked his fingers along her cheek and up into her hairline.

She felt a twinge of doubt seep across the bond they shared as he began to brush his fingertips over the point of her ear. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head slightly into his touch at the same time she sent feelings of longing and reassurance back to him.

His courage building, he pulled her closer until her curves were pressed against the hard planes of his body and brought his lips to hers once again. As their mouths explored each other, his hand continued to tease the tip of her ear and pull through her hair while his other hand moved to the small of her back to keep her solidly against him.

T'Pol knew his previous doubts had been erased in a flush of passion, but her own remained, buried deep down past her mental barriers where Trip wouldn't find them. She didn't doubt his love for her, nor her own feelings for him. But she did wonder at the possibility of a relationship between them. Would she be able to meet the demands of an emotional human? Would he be able to meet hers? How could they reconcile their two cultures and pasts into a future life together?

All of this she pushed aside and concentrated on the moment. Her hands moved of their own volition over his chest, around his shoulders, across his back, and up his neck. She tangled her fingers in his blond locks and held on for dear life. When they withdrew briefly, she knew she had to speak.

"Trip," her voice sounded breathy and the engineer smiled at the effect he had on her. "I must tell you something."

He looked into her deep brown eyes, glazed over with lust. "I don't know what you think we need to talk about right now, but whatever it is can wait." He tried to pull her in for another kiss, but her superior strength won out and she maintained her distance, slight though it was.

"It's important."

He sighed heavily. "It always is, darlin'. Okay, what is it?" Trip managed to back off from her a little without releasing his embrace.

She could feel the evidence of his arousal against her abdomen as surely as she could along the bond. It was intensely distracting and, at the same time, pleasing to know that she had this effect on him. Taking a deep, calming breath she met his gaze. "You need to know that if we consummate our bond it will become more difficult to sever it."

Now he backed completely away from her and turned to face the wall. "Do you want to dissolve it?" His voice was a whisper, but the pain it carried was obvious.

T'Pol moved around him so that they were once again facing each other. She kissed him chastely once. "Trip, what I want is irrelevant. A mating bond between us is illogical. You are human, I am Vulcan."

"Thanks for the lesson in basic biology, T'Pol," he sarcastically spit out. "Damn it, woman! I don't want to hear about what's logical or what species you are. I love you, T'Pol. If that's not good enough for you, then tell me now."

His anger and hurt washed over her until it almost crushed her. Then it was followed by an all-encompassing love that literally caused her to draw in a breath in shock. Her hand found his cheek and he leaned into it.

Her voice was soft when she answered, "It is not logical for us to continue, and I do not know if I can ever say the words, Trip, but your feelings are returned. As for the bond, I suppose we will, as you say, cross that bridge when we come to it."

In the next instant, he crushed her body against his and devoured her mouth. Immediately, the arousal that had subsided only slightly flared again, stronger this time. It was only seconds before Trip had reached his hand along the midline of her ceremonial robes and pulled them open. As his hands delved beneath the heavy fabric, he felt the warmth of her skin laid bare to him. Reaching up, he pushed the gown off her shoulders to puddle on the floor.

As they pulled back, he allowed his gaze to travel down her form. T'Pol's golden flesh rippled as her naked breasts rose and fell with each breath. "Good God, you are beautiful," he whispered huskily.

"And you are overdressed," she replied as her fingers moved to lift his t-shirt over his head. As he stepped out of the shorts she pushed down next, he took her hand and led her the short distance to the bed.

XXXX

The following morning, Archer strode across the bridge to the command center. "Status, Ensign," he asked as he lowered himself into the waiting chair.

"We are maintaining warp 4.5 and should be arriving at Ramy Four in the next three hours. Sensors show all clear and all systems are functioning normally, sir." Grik had grown accustomed to giving the Alpha shift reports, but he still got a little nervous talking to the Captain. In the Tellarite service, noone of his rank would be allowed to speak directly to anyone above the rank of lieutenant.

"Thank you, Ensign." Smiling at the young officer, Archer attempted to put him a little more at ease. "How are things at home, Grik?"

"Excuse me, sir?" The pilot was confused by the personal nature of the question.

Moving up to stand beside the Tellarite, the Captain elaborated, "I was wondering how you're adjusting to life on Enterprise. How is your family doing? That sort of thing."

Grik's snout crinkled a bit and his round eyes widened. "Oh..I'm fine, sir. My family, sir, is…well, I don't know, really, sir, but I'm sure I can find out, sir, if you'd like me to."

Archer laughed a little and clapped the pilot's shoulder. "That's okay, Grik. Don't worry about it." He returned to his seat and began pouring over reports from various departments around the ship while the Tellarite officer puzzled over the strange interaction.

XXXX

Enterprise entered standard orbit around Ramy Four later that morning and the Captain called the senior staff to a meeting. As the officers filed into the conference room, he hoped that his bad feelings about this mission were nothing more than that. "As you are all aware by now," he began when everyone was seated, "we're orbiting Ramy Four again. Our job is to find out what the Romulans wanted here. Our first visit was short and we didn't find anything of significance. This time we're not leaving until we know what's going on."

There were nods all around the table as the crew met his determination enthusiastically. Smiling with pride, he started his orders. "Okay, Trip, you're with me. We'll investigate the capital city, located on the western continent, again, looking for any kind of computer records of the attack."

Archer turned toward Lieutenant Reed. "Malcolm, you and Ensign Grik will take another shuttlepod to the eastern continent. We can tell from orbital scans that that land mass was the first to be hit by whatever weapon did this. Find out why."

He looked around the table once more. "Any questions? Comments?"

"Yes, sir. Permission to join the team?" T'Pol asked.

"Sorry," he answered without any hesitation. "I need you here, on Enterprise, in case the Romulans come back."

"Understood, sir." A brief wave of worry flooded Trip's mind and he looked sideways at his Vulcan lover.

The Captain stood, "All right, then, dismissed."

As everyone else began walking toward the exit, Trip reached out and lightly touched T'Pol's arm. "Stay, please?" he asked softly.

When they were alone together, he asked, "What's wrong? I've gone on away missions before."

She looked at the floor for a long moment before meeting his gaze. "Nothing is wrong, Commander."

"Oh, it's 'Commander' again, is it? Look, don't think you can fool me, T'Pol. I felt your fear. I know that you're worried about me." He reached out and stroked her cheek gently. "It's okay, really. I'll be fine. I've got a lot to live for."

The concern in her eyes faded to the background as he ignited a possessive fire in her. Moving into his personal space, she tilted her head up and kissed him. "Yes, you do."

XXXX

The gavel sounded throughout the Senate chambers and echoed from the distant stone walls. Shryla, the head of the Military Sub-Committee, replaced the marble hammer on its pedestal and stood. "It has been decided. I will take the conclusion before the Praetor, himself, and if he agrees then action will commence immediately."

Turning toward her left, she faced the scientist responsible for their current failure. "Don't get comfortable, Dr. Ziros. Our illustrious leader may be many things, but he is not forgiving." She held her head high and made her way out of the hall flanked by armed guards.

Ziros started to stand, but a powerful hand pushed him back down. He looked up to see the face of General Murol leering over him. "Sit, doctor, be patient. I'm sure Shryla won't be long. I for one can't wait to hear the Praetor's decision."

XXXX

End Part One, Episode Four

XXXX

Next time, on Enterprise:

Lieutenant Reed and Grik embark on a clandestine affair of the heart; Captain Archer decides he'd rather spend his days as an Orion slave trader and abandons his ship toward that end; Trip and T'Pol invite Hoshi to join them 'meditating'; and Phlox feeds Porthos to his Rigelian bat.

Did ya' really think I'd tell ya!

Prologues, Part II

By: Angel Koerkel

Genre: Episodic

Rating: PG

Summary: Fifth episode of my virtual season five.

Disclaimers: I don't own Enterprise, and I'm not making any money off this.

Notes: Sorry about the delay, but writer's block the size of the Great Wall of China wrapped itself around my brain and limited my thinking abilities to planning the next trip to the pool with the kiddies!

Again, much thanks to Trish for her help and inspiration (and at times, blatant dialogue!).

XXXX

Archer moved quickly around his quarters, getting ready to head down to Ramy Four. He paused during his preparations to toggle his desktop computer. "Captain's personal log: I'll be going to the surface soon with Commander Tucker. Hopefully, we'll be able to discover more about the Romulan motivations and methods for destroying this planet. I'm grateful that in the weeks since the incident, Starfleet got medical ships out here to take care of the bodies. However, the planet is still extremely dangerous and is in the beginning stages of a nuclear winter. We will be forced to take a slow circuitous route down due to the high radiation levels and polluted atmosphere wreaking havoc with the shuttlepod's navigation and helm systems.

"On a personal note, I'm looking forward to the time alone with my Chief Engineer. Our friendship has suffered a lot over the past couple of years and I'm anxious to try to repair it." The Captain flicked the switch once again to stop the recording and reached out to pet his beagle.

"Well, buddy, I'm off. Phlox'll look in on you every few hours. Be good," he finished with one last scratch as he tossed the small dog a cube of cheese. Archer grabbed his duffle bag off the bunk and headed out the door.

XXXX

Half an hour later, two shuttlepods were arcing slowly away from Enterprise and drawing toward the planet.

On board Shuttlepod One, Archer sat in the pilot's chair and controlled the descent. He activated the communications line and called out, "Archer to Enterprise."

"T'Pol here, sir," came the answer.

"All right, Commander. We're heading down nice and slow. It'll probably take us two hours to reach the surface and we'll be out of communication within the next twenty minutes thanks to the radiation levels. Take care of my ship and we'll signal you when we're on our way back."

"Understood, sir." A slight pause filled the shuttle, but then she continued. "Be careful…both of you."

Jon threw a sideways glance at his blushing Engineer. "We will," he answered with a smile in his tone before disconnecting the channel.

The Captain pushed back slightly from the control panel once the course was set and turned to face his friend. "Well, Trip, what's new?"

XXXX

Dr. Ziros, the former head of the Romulan Military Sciences Department and now fugitive from his own people, looked out at the silvery-blue streaks of light passing by his recently acquired starcraft. His self-loathing was surpassed only by his fear; fear of his government, fear for the fate of his family had they remained on Romulus.

"Are you sure there wasn't another way?" the soft voice of his wife, L'Treya asked from over his shoulder. He turned to face her and felt his heart melt at the sight of her tear-stained cheeks. Ziros gently took her into his arms and stroked her long, silky, black hair.

"I'm sure, love. If we'd remained home Murol would've taken you and Kiras into custody to ensure my 'cooperation'. I couldn't let that happen. The two of you are more important to me than anything, even my loyalty to the Praetor." He leaned down and kissed L'Treya softly as new tears fell silently from both of them.

The hatch from the living area of the craft opened and a tall, lanky young man approached the couple. "So that's it then, Father? You betray our people, dishonor yourself and our family name, steal me away from the only home I've ever known, all because you were scared?"

Ziros pulled back from his wife to face his son. "One day you will understand, Kiras. When you have a family…"

Kiras interrupted before his father could finish, "I will never have a family!" he shouted. "Do you not see what you have done? If we live, anywhere we finally settle there will be no Romulan female for me to take as consort. If we don't live, well that will bring a quick end to our line. Either way, my future is sealed, as is yours. We will spend what is left of our lives running from our own people and die alone."

"You do not know that," Ziros said with little conviction. "We are already out of Romulan space. Soon, we will find safety." Even as the words left his mouth, sensors began beeping signaling an object in their path. Ziros turned away to check his command board.

"What is it?" L'Treya asked.

"Another ship. We're still several hours away from them, but I believe I can establish communications." Ziros toggled several switches and fine-tuned the frequency knobs as he considered what to say to the potential friend.

XXXX

Trip dragged a hand through his hair, exasperation evident in the rough lines of his face. Archer noticed for the first time how much his friend had aged over the recent years. It wasn't just chronological age showing itself in the tiny wrinkles at the corners of his mouth, there was a maturity visible behind the blue eyes that used to be so easy-going.

"What do you want me to say, Cap'n?" Tucker asked slowly.

"How about the truth?" That earned him a doubt-filled glare followed quickly by acceptance.

"Are you sure?"

Now wondering if this was the best idea, Archer considered backing out. In the end though, he missed his friend and wanted to know what was going on in his life. "Yeah, Trip, I'm sure. We'll call it Captain-Senior Officer Privilege. Anything you say here, stays here. Fair enough?"

Trip let out a heavy sigh, immensely relieved that his oldest friend was available to him at last. He had wanted desperately to talk to him lately, but had worried about the position it would put Jon in. A broad smile crept over Trip's face and he visibly relaxed into the chair. "All right, then. In a nutshell, it goes like this: me and T'Pol got this Vulcan mating bond…"

Archer listened as Tucker outlined the past for him, at times scarcely believing what he was hearing. When the story drew to a close, his ears perked up at the final statement his engineer offered.

"The long of the short of it is that I love her, Jon. I can't imagine ever being happy without her. In fact, I'm gonna ask her to marry me." Trip had looked down at his hands, clasped between his knees.

"What! Trip, you know what that'll mean for your careers? Starfleet isn't likely to let you continue to be stationed on the same ship. You'll be grounded!" Archer himself could think of no worse fate than being told he wouldn't be able to fly anymore.

Tucker met his friend's worried countenance and laughed. "Yeah, I know what it means, but I'm willing to accept that decision."

"What about T'Pol? Will she be so quick to leave space?"

"Well, now that I'm not so sure of, but I'm tired of sitting on my hands, pretending I don't care about her." Seeing Archer's questioning look, he went on, "She loves me too, Cap'n. She doesn't have to say the words; I can feel it in the bond."

Archer shook his head in disbelief, but smiled just the same. "All right then; let me be the first to say, congratulations." He slapped his friend soundly on the back.

Smiling warmly, Trip answered, "I haven't asked her yet, sir."

XXXX

Ensign Sato looked bored. She sat at her station fulfilling her duties, which at the current time were limited to listening to static. The shuttlepods carrying Captain Archer, Commander Tucker, Lieutenant Reed, and Ensign Grik had left communications range nearly fifteen minutes earlier and would not return for at least five hours, giving her little to do. As her mind began to drift her eyes caught an unexpected sight, a flashing light indicating an incoming transmission.

Immediately, she started tracing the signal and pressed her earpiece tighter into place as she ran the customary translation matrix over the message. While the computer did its job, she faced the command center of the bridge. "Commander T'Pol, we are receiving a transmission."

Looking up sharply, T'Pol's brows knitted slightly together. "From whom, Ensign?"

"Unknown. However, the language is Romulan."

Now a finely sculpted eyebrow shot up as T'Pol answered, "Indeed? Very well, put it on the view screen, please."

Shaking her head slowly as she worked over her board, Hoshi replied, "I can't do that, ma'am. They are sending a visual signal, but it's incompatible with our systems. The best I can do is audio."

"All right then, Ensign."

Hoshi flipped a few switches and amidst a crackle of distortion a voice echoed from around the bridge. "This is Dr. Ziros of the Romulan Star Empire. My family and I are attempting to defect to safety. We are on a small personal vessel and have no weapons. Please respond."

T'Pol and Sato's gazes met as a look of surprise came over Hoshi's features. "Ensign, please open a channel to respond." With a nod, Sato acknowledged the order and complied; T'Pol spoke into the air, "This is Commander T'Pol of the Starfleet vessel Enterprise. We stand ready to assist you."

"We will reach your position in a few hours, Commander. I look forward to our meeting. In the mean time, as a sign of good faith, I will send information regarding a weapon recently used to destroy a planet within your quadrant. I believe you call it Ramy Four."

Even T'Pol was barely able to conceal her surprise at this statement. "Indeed, Doctor. And how is it that you have this information to share?"

A heavy sigh was audible over the line before Ziros answered, "Because I developed it, Commander."

XXXX

Ensign Grik sat in silence at the helm controls of shuttlepod two. He wasn't sure if he should talk to Lieutenant Reed or not. True, they had shared some meals together in the Mess Hall and he seemed polite enough, but that was during off-duty time. On the bridge, Grik had noticed, that Reed was all business and seemed to be a stickler for the rules. 'Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut,' thought the young Tellarite.

Reed, himself, was rechecking the phase pistols they had brought along for the third time. When he finished, he moved up to the second pilot's seat and plopped down. He looked questioningly at the piggish officer for a moment before he decided to ask what had been bugging him ever since Grik had come onboard. "Mind if I ask you something?"

"Not at all, sir," answered the Ensign.

"Why'd you sign on to Enterprise? I mean, Tellar has its own spacefleet."

Grik turned to face the Englishman. His beady eyes watered slightly at the personal question, but he was glad to finally talk about his decision with someone. Even his roommate, Ensign Tommy Stiles, hadn't asked, despite his friendly attitude. "Well, sir, I've always been a little different I suppose. Perhaps you're not aware, but Tellarites are not the most polite of species."

Reed rolled his eyes at the obvious statement, but Grik continued.

"I never felt very comfortable among my peers, and when our worlds began peace talks I saw an opportunity to meet new races and find a place where I might fit in a little better. My father was furious that I would not be serving on a Tellarite vessel, but I told him it was my decision."

A new kind of respect for the young officer grew in Reed's heart. "So, how is your family adjusting? Has your father come around?"

Darkness fell over Grik's face. His snout seemed to curl into itself as he answered, "My family disowned me when I left. I've sent them several letters, but they've never responded. My father's last words to me were that he had no son."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked." Malcolm lowered his eyes to allow some privacy.

Grik smiled brightly. "It's okay, Lieutenant. I really don't mind. Although I do miss my mother, she was no happier with my decision and she hasn't bothered to answer my letters either. I don't suppose anyone else knows what it's like to have such a narrow-minded father, but the choice to end our relationship was his, and it's his loss."

Laughing out loud, Reed met the gaze of his companion. "Let me tell you a little about this English Naval family I know!"

XXXX

Silence reigned throughout the small bridge area where Ziros and his family stood glaring at one another.

Anger etched itself in the prominent forehead of Kiras as he gnashed his teeth and balled his fists. "How could you? Of all the things you've done, this is the worst. I can not believe that you would willingly give away state secrets to the enemy!"

Ziros looked weary as he collapsed into a nearby chair, his wife hovering lovingly at his side. "They're not state secrets. The Empire didn't even want to continue development of the weapon and all of its designs belong to me. I insisted on keeping certain parts of the process to myself as a safeguard."

"If possible, I am more ashamed to be your son now than I was when we left Romulus in this stolen ship." With that, Kiras stormed through the door.

Patting his wife's hand, Ziros looked up into her eyes. "It'll be okay, L'Treya. He'll come around eventually."

"I hope you're right, love. I'm afraid you underestimate our son."

XXXX

On the planet's surface, Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Grik were attempting sensor scans in the haze of debris and dust that fluttered listlessly through the lower atmosphere. Their limited field of vision in the environmental suits they were forced to wear didn't help and more than once, they stumbled over the destruction. "I can't believe anyone could do this to a peaceful planet," Grik commented as he looked out over what was once a large field.

"According to the Vulcan database, Ramy Four was primarily agrarian. They believed in the unity of life. Apparently, they built their cities to be as unobtrusive to the natural beauty of their world as possible and most of the population still lived in rural communities." Reed shook his head at the senseless waste.

"Come on," he continued, indicating a sensor signal leading them north. "I've got a strong energy signature this way."

The two men walked silently among the dead plant-life as a steel-gray dawn peaked over the horizon, glowing dimly through the ash.

XXXX

"Have we received the information from Dr. Ziros, Ensign?" T'Pol asked from the center seat.

Hoshi looked up and nodded. "Yes. It's just finished downloading now, Commander. I should have it translated and ready for you in," the ensign checked the file size quickly, "about twenty minutes."

T'Pol tilted her head in understanding, "Very good, Ensign."

XXXX

"Damn, I can hardly see where I'm going."

Archer grabbed Trip's arm to keep him from taking a header into what was once a fountain.

"Careful now, Phlox will be really pissed if you sustain anymore radiation poisoning this year."

"He'll be pissed?" Trip's voice was incredulous. "I'll be pissed!" He craned his neck as best he could in the EV suit and took an appreciative look at the surrounding area. "Wow, would you look at that? The architecture is beautiful here. Lizzie would've loved it."

Captain Archer blinked in surprise. He hadn't heard Trip mention his beloved sister in over two years to him. For the first time he accepted that his best friend had recovered from her loss without his help, and he was once again grateful for the presence of T'Pol in Trip's life.

Smiling, Archer thought briefly of the graceful young woman he had known and thought of how these structures could easily have flowed from her hand. "Yeah, some of these elements do remind me of her buildings."

Trip's own smile turned wistful for a moment, then he grasped his Captain's arm and gave a gentle tug. "Come on, Cap'n. We've still got a lot of ground to cover."

XXXX

Murol paced his bridge. As he stopped in front of the helmsman, the pilot hesitantly looked up. "Faster!" demanded the general.

"Sir, we're going as fast as…" the young officer began.

"NO EXCUSES!" Murol screamed at the terrified man as he slammed his fists down on the control panel, causing sparks to fly from the edges of the plating as several systems shorted out. "Find that thieving, lying, disloyal, son-of-a-Vulcan! He can't have gone far in that starcraft wannabe!"

A female officer on the other side of the bridge braved the general's wrath by calling out to him, "Sir! I'm receiving a transmission."

XXXX

Trip and Archer repacked their gear in the aft of the shuttlepod as they purged the internal atmosphere and replaced the noxious fumes that had filled the cabin when they opened the hatchway with the clean air they had stored in tanks under the deck plating. When the green light on the atmospheric controls board lit up, both men gratefully removed their helmets.

"God, it feels good to be able to breathe again," Trip stated as he drew in a deep breath of the processed air.

Archer dropped onto a nearby bench and began pulling his legs out of the suit. "What a damned waste," he growled. "We didn't learn a thing, these people didn't bother recording anything in space, they just didn't care enough about what was happening out there."

Tucker sat down next to his commanding officer and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Cap'n. Maybe Malcolm and that Tellarite kid got something."

"Maybe," Archer said in a very uncertain tone. "Come on," he said as he rose off the cushion, "let's get home. I've got a dog waiting for me, and you've got…" The Captain let his voice trail off with a mischievous grin.

Trip wagged a finger at him and smiled like a schoolboy. "Now, Cap'n, you promised not to mention anything."

"All right, all right," Archer laughed, holding his hands up in mock defeat. "Come on, we've got a long flight home." The two friends worked together, chatting about nothing in particular for quite a long while.

XXXX

A sadistic smile became wider across Murol's face as he watched the tiny ship grow larger on the warbird's viewscreen. "At last, Dr. Ziros you shall meet an end fitting the traitorous coward that you are!"

XXXX

As L'Treya's eyes scanned the sensor panel in front of her, she thought of her long marriage to Ziros. They had been so happy and so in love, nothing else seemed to matter. It was unimportant that her parents had not approved of him due to his career as a scientist. They had wanted her to marry a military man, someone like her own father. But she had held fast and in the end proved them wrong, she had thought.

Ziros was dedicated to his work and his family fiercely. However, he often spoke of the Praetor with disparity. He seemed to find less and less appealing about the government in general and about the various leaders in particular.

When he'd come home late several days ago and practically shoved her and their son into a ground vehicle with nothing more than the clothes they were wearing and took them to a spaceport, she'd wondered what he'd gotten them involved in. Now, as the proximity warnings began flashing violently, she felt the dread settle heavily in her heart.

"Ziros!" she said anxiously. "There's a ship coming in on sensors, bearing 180 mark 45. It's moving at warp four."

His eyes met his wife's and they shared the knowing glance that a lifetime together allows. He smiled sadly at her and said, "I'm sorry, love."

XXXX

"Commander!"

"Yes?" T'Pol calmly asked the excited ensign sitting at the science station.

"There's a ship registering on long-range sensors," the woman answered.

T'Pol felt her patience wane as she turned to the junior officer. "I am aware of that, Ensign. It is Dr. Ziros' ship."

"No, ma'am. There's another ship, moving fast toward us."

Sudden understanding dawned on the Vulcan as she whirled around in her command chair toward the tactical station. "Polarize the hull plating, Ensign."

Before the officer could finish his job, phase blasts rocked the ship, throwing the bridge crew around like rag dolls. Ensign Vega pulled himself up off the deck and struggled with the controls to activate the plating. "Forward plating down to 65. All other systems, normal," he announced loudly over the din.

"Evasive maneuvers," Ensign Sato's voice called to the helmsman. He turned briefly to question the order since it wasn't given by the commanding officer, when he noticed Commander T'Pol lying on the ground, a viscous green fluid pooling around her slim form. "Sickbay," Hoshi said to the air, "emergency teams to the bridge."

Pausing to look at her surroundings, Hoshi took a deep breath. "I'm officially taking command," she announced to the bridge at large. "Ensign Chalmers," she directed to the science station, "what's the status on that ship?"

"They've moved off, ma'am. They're headed toward Dr. Ziros' ship now."

"Damn," Hoshi swore under her breath. "Ensign Randall," she faced the helmsman again, "how far away are we? How fast can we get there?"

"But, our people on the planet," the young ensign began to argue, "Commander T'Pol didn't want to abandon them to meet up with Ziros before…"

"How far, Ensign? That's an order." Sato's voice was strong and confident, but inside she was shaking like a child. Just then, the lift doors opened and the medics emerged onto the bridge. They quickly gathered T'Pol's body onto a stretcher and left again.

"Three minutes at top speed, ma'am," Randall answered looking appropriately shamed.

Debating briefly within herself, Hoshi reached a decision. "Set a course, Ensign." She turned back toward tactical. "Vega, get those front plates back up to 100, draw power from life support if you have to, but I want us covered."

"Yes, ma'am," came the determined responses from both ensigns.

XXXX

Archer was in the middle of telling Trip about the latest water polo game he'd seen, when Tucker suddenly doubled over, nearly slamming his head on the console. "Trip! What's wrong?" Archer moved quickly to his friend, placing a hand along his back and trying to be comforting.

A few deep breaths later, and the engineer was sitting up straight again. "I'm all right, Cap'n, but T'Pol isn't. We gotta get back, fast."

"What? How could you…"

Looking up at his friend, Trip's eyes were filled with unshed tears. "Trust me, I felt it in the bond. It's like she's gone."

XXXX

Kiras strode onto the small bridge. He met his father's gaze and held it.

"You did it, didn't you?" Ziros asked without any hint of recrimination. "You sent a message to Murol and let him know where we were."

The younger man held his chin up proudly, "Yes, Father, I did."

Ziros pointed at the sensor grid and then out the viewer. "Do you see that? They'll be here in minutes. They've already fired on the Starfleet ship and now they'll destroy us." He collapsed into the captain's chair and asked his son, "Why?"

"Because I would rather die serving my Praetor than live as a traitor. I have proven my loyalty to the Empire today, Father. For that, I will be rewarded."

A snort of derision escaped Ziros as he looked up at his only child. "Only with death, my boy."

XXXX

"This is Murol," the general said to the open channel. "Hello, Ziros."

A pop of static later and Ziros' face solidified on the warbird's screen. "Hello, General. I knew it was you, of course."

"Ah, yes, but now there will be no doubt in your mind as to who it was that destroyed you." Without closing the channel, he turned to the weapons station. "Fire," he stated as calmly as if he'd just ordered a beverage from a food dispenser.

Brilliant blue phased energy flashed out from the warbird and enveloped the tiny private ship. It seemed to glow like a miniature sun for a moment, and then exploded just as powerfully as a supernova. Where Ziros' face had been on the viewscreen, now only an open starfield remained.

Murol turned again to the communications officer. "Raise that Starfleet ship."

XXXX

The explosion lit up the bridge of Enterprise with an unnatural light. As the fierce glow faded away, Hoshi recovered from the shock and immediately ordered Enterprise back to Ramy Four.

"Ma'am, we're receiving a message from that warbird."

"Put them on speakers."

"It's just a single message; they've closed the channel." The ensign now seated at the communications board flipped a switch and a deep baritone reverberated around the bridge.

"This is General Murol. We apologize for any inconvenience caused by the fugitive Ziros. Rest assured, he has been dealt with in the traditional manner for enemies of the Empire. Have a good day."

XXXX

"Archer to Enterprise. Archer to Enterprise." The hail repeated incessantly from the Captain's lips as he kept a cautious eye on Tucker.

"It's no use, Cap'n. We're still too low in the atmosphere."

The Captain shook his head. "No, we should be able to reach them by now."

The officers shared a look of trepidation. What if whatever Trip had felt through his bond with T'Pol had affected not just her, but everyone? What if Enterprise was gone?

As quickly as the thought occurred to both men, it was eliminated. "Enterprise to Captain Archer," Hoshi's voice rang strongly through the tiny shuttlepod.

"Hoshi? Where's T'Pol? What the hell's going on?" Archer asked.

"Sir, there've been some developments here that I'd rather not go into over the comm."

Archer noted that she sounded tired and more than a little scared, something that didn't happen very often anymore. "All right, Ensign. We're on course to rendezvous with you in fifteen minutes. Meet us in the landing bay."

"Aye, sir."

As the channel closed, the long-time friends cast worried gazes at the small ship's viewscreen, as if the answers they sought would be found there. But all they saw was the looming vision of their home.

XXXX

"May I ask a question, sir?" quivered the voice of a frightened young woman.

"What is it?" beamed Murol. He was in an incomparably good mood. Now that Ziros had acted so foolishly, his own place in Romulan history would be certain.

She cleared her throat and croaked out, "Well, sir, I was just wondering why we didn't destroy the Starfleet ship too?"

"An excellent question, Ensign." The General offered with an evil grin. "The Praetor has decided that expansion is the best next step for the Empire and that the destruction of enemy ships would draw unwanted attention from our foes. Besides, now they have seen how we treat those that oppose us and they will go back to tell all of their allies. No one will wish to face us once they hear of this day."

XXXX

The seals had barely cleared before Trip was out of the shuttlepod and storming onto the landing bay. "Where's T'Pol?" he demanded of Hoshi.

"She's in Sickbay, sir." The once timid Ensign answered and Tucker disappeared through the hatchway before Archer even made it down the ramp.

"Captain," Sato began once he was approaching her. "A lot has happened, sir."

"Fill me in on the way to the bridge, Ensign."

XXXX

Trip entered Sickbay at a run and barely stopped before plowing down Dr. Phlox.

"Calm down, Commander," the Denobulan started as he raised his hands at the engineer.

"Don't tell me to calm down, Doc. Where's T'Pol?" he looked anxiously past the doctor, searching the biobeds for the familiar form. He finally noticed the pulled curtain around the last bed and headed that way, circling around Phlox.

"Commander T'Pol has sustained some very serious injuries, but I believe she will make a full recovery," Phlox explained as he hurried to catch up with Tucker, who shot him a look of disbelief and suddenly stopped walking.

He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, then faced the doctor again. "If she's gonna be okay, why isn't she here?" he asked, stabbing at the side of his head with his right hand.

"Excuse me?" asked Phlox, his normally exuberant smile fading fast.

Tucker took a deep breath and quickly explained about the bond. "And just a little while ago," he concluded, "she just vanished from my head. It's like she was never there at all." His voice trailed off and he looked back at the drawn curtain.

"Of course, I'm familiar with the mating bond from serving on Vulcan, but I had no idea that one could be established with a human," he looked ready to sit Trip down on his own biobed and begin studying him, but stopped himself when the engineer shot him a look of impatience. "Oh, right, anyway, I assure you, Commander, Commander T'Pol is doing just fine. I don't know why you've lost the connection, but she is going to be okay."

Nodding his acceptance without looking at the doctor, Trip asked, "Can I sit with her?"

"Yes, of course you can."

Phlox had not finished answering before Trip was moving around the edge of the curtain.

XXXX

End Episode Five

Today is a Gift

By: Angel Koerkel

Genre: General episodic

Disclaimer: I do not own Enterprise, Star Trek, or any character therein. This is purely for entertainment and I am not making any money from it.

Rating: G, I guess

Summary: A brief intermission between episodes five and six of my virtual season five.

XXXX

T'Pol drifted. She knew neither hot nor cold, dark nor light. She simply was. Slowly her mind began to become aware of itself. At first, she knew that something was not right, although she could not have said how she knew that. Gradually, her sense of self grew until her name was a real thing in her mind and she imagined a body for herself. As this new form floated freely in the space of her subconscious, more of reality seeped into her thoughts. After a time, she created a place for her to be within the emptiness. Its stark whiteness was in contrast to the nothingness of before, and she rested where she thought the floor should be. Finally, she pulled her memories out from their hiding place in the farthest corners of her mind.

The most recent memory came first. She had been on the bridge. The Romulans attacked and there was a blast. She recalled falling as a noise erupted from nearby and something seemed to pass across her head. Then there was simply nothing.

Her thoughts traveled backward through time quickly. In the blink of an eye, she was back to her first day on Enterprise. One more second and she had gone through her career in espionage. Literally in a heartbeat, she watched herself grow younger by decades until finally T'Pol of Vulcan looked on herself as a small child. Now the passage of time slowed and began to move forward at a seemingly normal pace. She watched the memory play out like one of Trip's movies on a vidscreen.

The younger version of herself stood ramrod straight in perfect imitation of the older Vulcans surrounding her. Her tiny hands clasped themselves firmly at the small of her back and her short dark hair lay meticulously shaped around the tips of her ears. However, there was a light in the child's eyes, a tiny flicker of a smile touched the corners of her mouth, and she seemed on the verge of bouncing on her toes with excitement.

The landing platform around the girl was crowded with Vulcans of all ages going about their daily business, awaiting shuttles, either arriving or departing, so that they could continue on their way. But, the child T'Pol was there for the pure joy of greeting her second-foremother when she stepped off her transport.

It had been a bit of a bribe made by T'Les. T'Pol had been quite negligent in her studies ever since hearing about T'Mir's impending visit. So in order to motivate the child, T'Les had agreed that she would be allowed to accompany her to the transport station only if all of her work had been completed for the past week. It had been difficult for T'Pol to concentrate, but somehow she managed and at less than an hour before the scheduled time, she finished her last assignment.

Now the two females stood side-by-side on the platform, looking less alike than ever before. T'Les stood at rigid attention, her face impassive, as she watched dutifully for the appropriate shuttle. As the small ship approached, T'Pol's impatience grew exponentially and her eyes danced with anticipation. T'Mir was unlike anyone else T'Pol knew, and the polar opposite of T'Les, which pleased T'Pol to no end.

Of course, her mother blamed the older woman's eccentricities on her age. Even Vulcans had been known to suffer its effects, after all, and she was exceptionally old. T'Pol had heard that T'Mir had once been the very embodiment of logic and suppressed emotion, but she had a hard time reconciling that knowledge with the woman who had just walked off the ship with a twinkle in her eye that turned to a slight smile upon seeing T'Pol.

Several days after T'Mir's arrival, T'Pol was awakened from her sleep to the sounds of arguing, an uncommon occurrence in any Vulcan household. Not that Vulcans didn't disagree, they just tended to do it quietly, using logical statements to make their points rather than raised voices. But on this particular night, a very vocal disagreement made its way through the house and to T'Pol's ears.

"Absolutely not! I can not believe you would even suggest such a thing!" she heard her mother's voice raised above its normal volume.

"Why are you so stubborn, T'Les? I took you when you were her age, and your mother before that. She is the last of my line that I will be able to show the site to, and I have held onto this life just long enough to take her." T'Mir's voice shook with anger and something else, sadness, maybe?

Footsteps echoed down the narrow hallway and T'Pol knew that her mother was pacing. She always paced when she knew she was wrong but looking for a way out of admitting it. "Just because you felt it necessary to expose us to that does not mean I will allow my daughter to set foot there!"

A pause settled heavily over them to be broken by the soft tones of T'Mir as the sadness won out. "Very well, if that is your wish. She is your daughter and I will abide by it." A few moments later, T'Pol heard T'Mir's door close and then the unmistakable sound of crying drifted through the thin wall that separated their rooms. T'Pol wished desperately that her father were there and not gone on assignment for the Science Academy.

They were gathered in the sitting room the following day when T'Les surprised T'Pol by announcing that she would not be going to school that day. Even more surprised was T'Mir when T'Les continued. "Your second-foremother would like to take you on a trip, T'Pol."

The child nearly burst out in laughter at her surprise, but she managed to control herself at the last moment. "Where will we go?" she asked with barely restrained excitement as she bounced in her chair.

"Indeed, T'Les, where will we go?" T'Mir asked.

Taking a deep breath, T'Les closed her eyes in final acceptance of her decision. "T'Mir would like to take you to Earth. However, I do have some ground rules," she added seeing T'Pol's happiness mirrored in T'Mir's features.

"Ooh! I know Earth! We've studied it in school. We made first contact with the humans 57.3 years ago. They're quite a lot behind us technologically, and they show their emotions openly. Can you imagine that?" the little girl babbled on as her smile grew wider. "Oh! And they have so much water there, the planet is nearly covered in it!"

T'Mir's own grin broadened as she observed the child's joy. T'Les only shook her head disapprovingly. "This is exactly the sort of behavior I do not wish to encourage, T'Pol. You already have such trouble suppressing your emotions, I can not imagine that visiting such a place will be healthy for you." She turned to face her own foremother. "That is why I will not allow you to go to the planet's surface."

"What? Then why go?" T'Mir railed at T'Les. "You know where I want to take her and why. What would be the point in sitting in a ship in orbit?"

"You can share the story with her. Point out the location from orbit, let her see and appreciate the beauty of the planet without being poisoned by its influence. It's not as if there is any memorial on the surface and the location bears no resemblance whatsoever to the town of your memory. I see no logic in taking her down to the planet when an orbital view will do just as well."

Within moments the details were settled. By the afternoon, T'Mir and T'Pol were back at the transport station getting on a shuttle to take them to an orbiting ship headed for Earth. They arrived at the blue and green planet before T'Pol knew it and as soon as it was visible, she barely moved from the small porthole in their quarters. As the planet grew in size outside their window, T'Mir took T'Pol's hand. "Come, child, I have a story to tell you."

Together, they walked to an observation deck and sat side-by-side in comfortable chairs facing the large view ports that allowed them to watch the rotating planet below them. After sitting in silence for a while, T'Pol noticed a single tear trace its way down the elder woman's cheek. "Please, don't cry, T'Mir. What's wrong?"

Turning a smile toward her, T'Mir answered, "Nothing dear. I simply enjoy this view and I shall never see it again." Swiping away the moisture from her face, she reached out again and handed a small parcel to T'Pol. The girl opened it and ran a delicate hand over the soft fabric of the gift.

"What is this?" she asked with wonder.

"That is the ending of my story," T'Mir said. "It is called a handbag, but we will get to it in time. This is the beginning," and with the sweep of her hand she indicated the world outside. Coming up over the horizon was the continent of North America. With a shaky finger, she pointed at an area. "This story is about a little town located there. It is called Carbon Creek, Pennsylvania."

XXXX

"I am pleased that you remember her so fondly," a soft voice said to the adult T'Pol, still seated in the white emptiness.

Looking up, she was surprised to see an image of her mother standing nearby. "You are not real. T'Les died."

Coming closer, the apparition replied, "That is correct, T'Les is dead. I, however, am quite real. I am the shadow of her left upon you by both your own memories and by the meld you shared with T'Pau."

T'Pol stood now, her head tilted in question. "Why would you wish me to think of T'Mir with affection? T'Les was barely tolerant of my second-foremother."

"Outwardly that may have seemed so, but I always envied the freedom T'Mir felt. T'Mir learned a valuable lesson from the humans. It took her many years to realize it, but eventually she did and she put it to practice in her life. She believed the most precious gift the humans had was their capacity to rely on others, to allow their loved ones to share their pain and joy. It gave them great strength."

T'Pol turned back to the image of her child self and the elderly T'Mir that seemed to have been paused in mid-play on the screen of her own mind. "She died less than a month after this journey," T'Pol whispered. "At first, I missed her terribly, but as I grew, I came to despise that part of myself that she had helped keep free. I should not have been so emotionally open at this age," she indicated the scene before them. "I began to see her presence in my life as a liability."

T'Les approached her daughter and placed a loving hand on her shoulder. "I do not regret having raised you in our ways, T'Pol. You know our planet's history; you know why we must be so very careful with our emotions. The violence our people are capable of is nothing short of amazing." She turned T'Pol to face her and as their gazes met, she continued, "but so is the love we can achieve. We should not be afraid to share that love with someone who will understand our limitations and who will appreciate what we have to offer."

"Are you suggesting I abandon the ways of Surak?" T'Pol asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Not in the least, daughter. I am simply saying we should not waste T'Mir's lesson. There is nothing wrong with allowing our innermost selves to be seen by those we care about." T'Les looked over T'Pol's shoulder and into the distance. A slight smile graced her lips as she said, "and I believe that there is someone coming who would understand you well."

T'Pol shifted to look behind her. The image of T'Mir and the child had gone. Now someone was approaching from the distance. It didn't take long before the guest stood beside the women.

"Good afternoon, ladies." A broad smile lit up Trip Tucker's face as he looked from one Vulcan to the other.

"Trip?" T'Pol asked with worry evident in her tone. "How are you here?"

End Chapter Five and One-half

Pursuing Dreams

By: Angel Koerkel

Genre: Episodic

Rating: PG

Summary: Sixth episode of my virtual season five.

Disclaimers: I don't own Enterprise, and I'm not making any money off this.

Notes: I know it's been a really long time. Sorry 'bout that. I've missed Enterprise terribly this year, knowing all the great stories that still needed to be told, and every time I tried to start writing again it just made me so angry at TPTB. Sad, but true! Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and please review! I promise to try to get the next episode up quicker!

XXXX

Trip was falling through darkness. He reached out but found nothing to grasp. A silent scream escaped him as he tumbled endlessly downward, arms flailing, feet kicking, desperately seeking something.

"Hey, Trip," a soft voice whispered from behind as a gentle hand clasped his shoulder. He awoke with a start and managed to swipe the drool from his cheek as he raised his head from across T'Pol's abdomen where he must have dozed off. "There you are, sleepy head," came the falsely light tone of his Captain again.

"Mm hmm," answered the engineer as he rubbed furiously at his eyes while yawning. Moving into a wide stretch, he asked, "How long have I been out?"

"Not long, you must've been exhausted to have fallen asleep so quickly." As he paused, Archer pulled up a chair and sat next to his friend. "You know, Trip, you can't stay here."

"Why not?" Tucker asked angrily, suddenly wide-awake.

"Calm down," the Captain said, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "Look, Trip, I need your help. While we were on the planet's surface, Enterprise got a little visit from the designer of the weapon used against Ramy Four. You need to go over the information we got from that bastard, Ziros, before his buddies blew him out of the sky."

Tucker's gaze didn't waver from the face of his sometimes lover. "And if I refuse to leave?"

Sighing in frustration, Archer answered, "I could make it an order, and if you still won't go, you could be sent to the brig."

"You wouldn't!" Trip seethed at his friend, furious beyond measure.

Meeting his stare, Archer acquiesced. "No, I wouldn't. But, dammit, Trip, this is exactly why Starfleet doesn't want people getting emotionally involved. You're my engineer first, T'Pol's boyfriend…"

"Bondmate."

"Fine! Bondmate, second. We have to think of the bigger picture here."

"The needs of the many…" Trip's voice trailed off slightly as he let his eyes fall back to watching the steady rise and fall of T'Pol's chest.

"What's that?" Archer asked quietly.

Looking up at his friend with a sort of resigned peace, Trip said, "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few." He smiled and shook his head. "It's a Surak thing. Basically, it means that T'Pol would skin me if she knew I was sitting here doing nothing while the ship needed me."

"Huh," the Captain said with a small amount of wonder in his tone.

"What, Cap'n?"

Archer shook his head. "Well, I'm just surprised I don't remember that quote myself. Maybe I didn't retain as much from that mind meld as I thought I did."

XXXX

The turbolift doors opened to allow Archer and Tucker to emerge onto the bridge. They moved around the perimeter to stand near the science station where Malcolm and Hoshi were going over the reports on ship's systems.

"Status," Archer asked.

Malcolm cleared his throat and stood at something more closely resembling attention. "The starboard sensor array was damaged and there was a minor hull breach on E deck, near the EPS conduits."

"Crew injuries were minor as well, sir, with…" Hoshi paused, biting her lip and casting a nervous glance toward Commander Tucker. Malcolm caught her eye and gave an encouraging nod. She continued, "with the exception of T'Pol."

Trip threw a quick look at his surrounding friends. "It's okay, Hoshi," he said softly. It was becoming clear to him that no one was fooled into thinking he and the Vulcan Science Officer were just friends.

She smiled back at him and reached out a data padd to the Captain. "This is the data stream from Dr. Ziros."

"Trip, look at this will you?" Archer turned to his Chief Engineer and held out the padd. "You and Malcolm are the most familiar with Romulan technology."

As Trip began to look over the data, he recognized the symbols as identical to the ones on the marauder ship. Thankful for the distraction, he pushed his worries to the back of his mind and focused on the task at hand. "Hey, Mal, look at this. It's definitely Romulan."

As Trip stifled a yawn, Malcolm looked over his shoulder at the small screen. "Damn, this thing is big. What do you think, maybe thirty-six meters?" Despite the situation a hint of envy crept into the Tactical Officer's tone. "It looks like some kind of phased energy projection system. See, here and here," Reed pointed to several small devices along the weapon's side.

"What are those?" Archer asked from Trip's opposite shoulder as he indicated ports along the aft diagram.

"My guess would be thrusters," Tucker answered as he squinted at the tiny display.

Sighing deeply, Archer backed slightly away from his fellow officers. "All right, Trip, you and Malcolm head over to the Situation Room and start analyzing these diagrams in more detail. Take Hoshi with you."

Reed and Hoshi started immediately toward the turbolift expecting the engineer to be hot on their heels. Both of them stopped when they realized he wasn't with them.

Tucker still stood near the science console, his hand over his mouth to hide yet another yawn. His eyes drooped slightly and he stretched out his back as the yawn receded.

"Sorry, Cap'n," he said sheepishly. "I must be really bushed." He started to walk to the turbolift, but was stopped by his Captain's concerned voice.

"Are you sure you're okay, Trip?

A crooked smile lit up the southerner's features as he waved a hand in dismissal. "Nothing to worry about, sir. I'll stop by the galley on my way and get some coffee."

With a doubtful tilt to his head, Archer responded, "All right then." The three officers were on the lift before the last words left his mouth.

XXXX

Several minutes later, the trio walked into a room that had once been critical in their mission against the Xindi. Now, it was mostly used as a backup database. Occasionally they held staff meetings there, but lately it was becoming useful in learning about the Romulans.

All of the information they'd gathered at Ramy Four, what little there was, was displayed on one small screen while the downloaded data from Dr. Ziros took up several monitors around the room and the large main viewer.

The two men headed straight for the most complete image of the weapon on the large screen, while Hoshi walked toward a smaller side monitor. She punched several keys on the control panel to initiate the universal translator matrix and then silently went to work inputting the foreign symbols from the screen.

Trip sipped his hot coffee and stared at the pyramid shaped monstrosity that occupied the main viewer. Meanwhile Malcolm shook his head repeatedly. "Good Lord, I hope they don't realize we have these," he indicated the schematics displayed around the room.

"I doubt they do, Mal, or we'd probably be dust right about now, just like our little friend, Ziros." Trip's answered distractedly as he remained focused on the screen.

Hoshi looked over at them. "Okay, Mr. Experts, I'm in need of some assistance here." She indicated the strange markings on the control panel she had displayed. "What are these?"

Tucker pursed his lips in thought for a moment. "Energy levels, Mal?"

"Indeed," Reed answered with a nod. "And these two over here," he pointed across her control panel diagram to a couple of more symbols, "I believe are plasma flow."

The Communications Officer keyed madly into her computer as the men labeled as much of the image as they could.

"Does that help?" Malcolm asked after they'd named several more of the alien instruments.

She shook her head as her fingers flew across the board. "This is the strangest iconography I have ever seen, but yeah, that helps a lot."

Trip maneuvered the three-dimensional display of the weapon platform on the large screen to show the 'bottom-side' and gasped. "Would ya' look at that!" he whispered with a little whistle at the end. His fellow officers wasted no time in moving to his side and staring in shock at the underbelly of the weapon that destroyed all life on Ramy Four.

"Are those all phase cannons?" Hoshi asked softly, her voice filled with disgusted awe as she noticed the entire surface covered with protrusions.

Nodding, Malcolm answered her silently before he asked, "How many, Trip?"

"Looks like around two hundred," Tucker shook his head sadly.

Hoshi said, "But even with all those…how could they wipe out the entire planet's population? They couldn't fire on the entire surface at once."

"No, luv, but they didn't have to. Remember, Ramy Four didn't monitor their local space. They wouldn't have known anyone was in orbit until it was too late. And the way the planet was laid out? A few major cities, but mostly widely dispersed agricultural communities, would've made it easy. No one would've known what was happening since provided they took out the communications satellites first; which they did according to what little computer records we found in the capital city. Then they could wipe out the industrial centers before they moved in on the outlying areas." Reed turned a disgusted eye away from the weapon's schematic. "They would have been nothing more than lambs to slaughter at that point."

Hoshi looked away too, as if in prayer she closed her eyes and bowed her head a moment. Clearing her throat a little, she choked back a small sob. "I..I still have a lot of work to do," she moved slowly back to her monitor and began entering more symbols.

"I'll be back in a minute," Trip said softly as he made his way to the hatch. After he'd gone, Malcolm walked over to stand behind Hoshi. He placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed lightly.

"Are you all right?"

Nodding, she wiped a hand quickly across her eyes. "I will be. I just don't understand, Malcolm. Who would destroy an entire planet like that? Why?"

"Well, the Xindi," he started before she jumped up to face him, her anger now evident in her stony features.

"NO! Right or wrong, the Xindi thought they were defending themselves, they thought they were doing what they had to in order to protect their species. This," she flung an arm fiercely toward the main view screen and pointed at the diagram, "this was not built for defense. This was built to murder."

She collapsed back into her chair as if all of the bones had suddenly left her body. A sigh escaped her lips as she met Reed's gaze steadily but sadly. "They have to be stopped," she whispered.

Malcolm looked down at the diminutive form, her shoulders slumped as her breath caught in tiny hiccups brought on by the crying, and suddenly realized that he wanted nothing more than to protect this woman. The Romulans, the weapon, even Starfleet itself could all go to hell so long as she was safe. Taking a deep breath of acceptance, he crouched down in front of her and placed his hands on her knees. "They will be, luv."

XXXX

Trip Tucker sat alone in the Mess Hall, staring mindlessly out into space and nursing another cup of coffee. He knew he needed to get back to work, but he was just so bone-tired and that last little revelation had just about done him in emotionally. It hit a little too close to home after what they'd all been through in the Expanse. 'Two more minutes,' he promised himself as he closed his eyes and took a sip of his lukewarm beverage.

Within seconds of placing the cup back on the table, Trip felt himself begin to float. Something tickled the back of his brain telling him that this wasn't right, but he brushed it aside and let himself drift into pleasant unconsciousness. After a moment however, it become oppressive. The complete lack of anything weighed on his soul and he knew he was falling, but he couldn't see anything. His arms flailed uselessly at his sides as a silent scream escaped his mouth.

"TRIP!" yelled Captain Archer as he shook his friend violently.

Tucker's eyes opened slowly, a dazed expression crossed his face. "Cap'n? What? How long," his voiced wavered off before he could finish the question.

"I'm not sure exactly, but I've been trying to wake you for at least three minutes. Phlox should be here any second. I called him when I couldn't find a heartbeat."

"What do you mean, no heartbeat?" Trip asked, instantly alert at the same time Phlox burst into the room.

The Denobulan physician moved anxiously to inspect his patient as the captain explained. "When I couldn't wake you at first, I realized you were freezing cold. I felt your neck for a pulse and couldn't find one. That's when I called Phlox before trying again to shake you awake. It took awhile, but you finally woke up, obviously," the captain finished with a small smile.

Phlox stood and faced the men with a look of complete dismay. "I am at a loss to explain this, Captain. However, I think it would be best for Commander Tucker to come with me to sickbay and remain there until I know what we're dealing with."

The friends' eyes met for a moment. "Sorry, Doc, but I got a lot of work to do."

"I don't think you understand, Commander. You won't be able to do your work if you're dead, and right now I can't guarantee that won't be the case." Phlox pulled no punches when it came to a patient's safety and this time was no different.

"I'm afraid I have to agree with the Commander on this one, Phlox. We need him right now. Isn't there something else you could do? Maybe some sort of portable monitor."

Sighing the sigh of defeat, Phlox gave in to his captain. "I suppose I could set up a medical tricorder to monitor his heart rate and other vital signs. If they begin to drop it could set off an alarm and page me immediately." He nodded as he worked out the details silently in his head.

"There you go then. Trip, head to sickbay with Phlox. Get fitted up with whatever he needs to do, and then get back to that weapon analysis. I'll let Malcolm and Hoshi know you'll be delayed a little."

XXXX

Reed looked up as, half an hour later, Trip returned. "Hey," he asked his friend, "feeling okay?" Concern etched itself deeply in the Englishman's features as a tiny frown crossed his face. Hoshi looked similarly worried, but she stood silently behind Malcolm.

"Yeah, you know the Doc, always making a big deal outta everything," Trip said, trying to dismiss their concerns and get back to work. With a wave of his hand, he continued, "So, find out anything new while I was gone?" He moved in front of the main viewer and shifted the makeshift monitor Phlox had jury-rigged for him so as to not bump it against the control panel.

"As a matter of fact," Reed began, allowing the rapid change of subject. He indicated what they had assumed were phase cannons. "Take a closer look at those."

Trip leaned into the screen, squinting slightly. "They just look like everyday cannons….wait a minute. Why are they so short? The barrels are at least a meter too small." The image rotated at the touch of a button allowing a closer inspection. The engineer looked back up at his friends.

Nodding at his discovery, Hoshi explained. "I realized they couldn't be typical phase weapons when I translated the power matrix displays. When Malcolm double-checked the dimensions, he agreed."

"They're just too damn small to put out enough power," Reed picked up the trail. "So, I did a little more checking." He pointed along the control panel from the weapon that was displayed on the smaller monitor to the right. "See here? Power output is barely enough to roast a marshmallow, but it's plenty to nuke the humanoid population."

"What are you saying, Mal? They weren't trying to destroy the planet?"

Malcolm nodded. "That is exactly what we're saying. It looks like they meant to get rid of the people but keep the buildings and probably most of the surface intact."

Trip shook his head as he stifled a yawn. "All right. So, now we have to figure out what went wrong and see if there's a way to stop this thing next time they use it."

XXXX

Ensign Vega ran his fingers over the levers controlling the extended scans he was making of Ramy Four's moon. As the intensity increased, he noticed a blip along the far side of the natural satellite. Frowning, he moved his hands across the board again and repeated the inspection. Getting the same result, he looked up the center seat. "Captain? I'm getting an unusual reading on the surface of the moon, sir."

Standing, Archer moved over to the science station. "What kind of reading, Ensign?" He gripped the edge of the console and waited impatiently for the report, tension rolling off of him in waves.

"Sensors have found a metallic object partially buried nearly on the dark side. It's very large though, sir; I'd say approaching forty meters based on these scans." He shook his head slightly as he looked up from the scanner. "We need to move closer to get a more precise reading."

Turning toward the helm, Archer said, "All right, Ensign Grik, you heard the man. Take us to the moon."

XXXX

Enterprise settled into geo-synchronous orbit of the moon directly over what had previously been just a blip on the ship's sensors. Archer approached the view screen as if to see the object better. "Unbelievable!" Regaining his composure, he turned back toward the science station. "Life signs, Ensign?"

"Negative, sir." The young human male peered intently at his board, his fingers moving swiftly across its surface to adjust knobs. "I'm getting only a minimal power reading, probably some sort of emergency system to maintain the computers."

Archer seemed to think for a moment before reaching a decision. "All right." He flipped a switch on his chair arm. "Archer to Lieutenant Reed."

"Reed here, sir," came the disembodied response.

"I think we may have found your weapon. How'd you like a close up inspection?"

"Indeed, sir. Shall I meet you at Shuttlepod One?" A hint of excitement echoed through the tinny speaker.

"Captain?" Trip's voice broke in over Malcolm's. "Permission to join you?"

The captain shook his head unseen by his friend. "Sorry, Trip. I don't think that's such a good idea right now. Mr. Reed, I'll see you in fifteen minutes."

XXXX

When Archer arrived at the landing bay, he knew things were about to be difficult. He started shaking his head emphatically before Trip even opened his mouth.

"Captain," the engineer started, ignoring the already negative response, "you need me over there. Let me do this." He couldn't help shifting the medical tricorder sitting across his hip as he pleaded to join the team.

"Trip, what's that tricorder doing there?" Archer asked with a touch of worry in his voice, although he knew perfectly well what it was for.

Tucker looked down at the offending piece of equipment. He absently traced the lead wires to where they ran under his uniform toward the electrodes placed strategically around his chest. "You know what this. Phlox insisted I wear the damned thing, but really Captain, I feel fine." Even as he said it, he knew it was a lie. He felt more exhausted that he could ever remember feeling. Every moment was another struggle to keep from yawning. Despite all that, this was a mission he wanted to be a part of.

As he listened to his friend's pleas, Archer moved along the exterior of the shuttle, doing a quick preflight check. He could hear Reed inside the craft, completing his own list. At last, Archer stopped walking and turned to face his long-time friend and current subordinate officer. "Commander Tucker, you are ordered to report to sickbay and remain there until either Phlox clears you for duty by his standards or until I return. Is that clear, Commander?" A soft, sad smile took some of the harshness from his words, but they still stung the younger man.

"Aye, sir," Trip answered with reluctant acceptance. At least this way he could spend time with T'Pol he realized. Giving his Captain an understanding grin he said, "Thank you, sir."

XXXX

"I feel like I never took this thing off," Archer muttered as he and Reed maneuvered into their respective EV suits.

Reed flashed a crooked smile and pulled his helmet on. Both men clicked their locks into place and inhaled as the stale smell of pressurized oxygen/nitrogen blend filled the suits. With a nod of readiness from his Captain, the Englishman opened the hatch between the shuttle and the Romulan weapon.

"This is definitely Romulan structure, sir," Reed commented as they walked along a catwalk, their magnetic boots silently sealing and unsealing themselves.

"Any idea which way to some sort of control center?"

The Tactical Officer consulted the padd he'd transferred the weapon's designs to. "I'd wager this way," he said as he pointed off down an adjoining corridor. The men turned and continued their journey.

A short time later, they emerged onto what seemed to be a central computer station. "What do you think, Lieutenant?" Archer asked as they surveyed their surroundings and began trying to access the core.

"I think, sir, that these Romulans are cold, heartless bastards," Reed said as he downloaded data into his small padd. Looking up at his Captain, he amended, "with all respect, sir,"

Archer nodded, "A fair assessment, but I was really looking for your opinion of this weapon."

"In that case, my language may be a little more harsh." He paused for a moment then continued. "I think, sir, that it was run by remote, much like the marauder ship, and was probably deserted here due to the malfunction in its power systems that caused the phase cannons to overload. The resulting energy surge would have made it damn near impossible to restablize so that it could be returned home."

Archer fiddled absently with controls as he listened to Reed. When an alarm began to wail and lights flashed wildly, he looked up sheepishly, "Did I do that?"

XXXX

Dr. Phlox hummed softly as he worked in his small lab. His analysis of Commander Tucker's blood showed no abnormalities and, so far, his monitor's relayed information was within normal limits. Glancing over at his charges he was unsurprised to see Tucker seated next to Commander T'Pol's biobed again, holding her hand and whispering at her.

The Denobulan doctor smiled at the Commander's stubbornness. Phlox had told him repeatedly to lie down on his own bed and stay there, preferably to get some rest. Yet, every time he looked their way, Tucker had resumed his vigil at his bondmate's bedside.

Sighing, the doctor moved into his small office to begin a dictation on the current situation. He hadn't been at it for very long when a shrill tone filled the air. Running back into sickbay proper, he was startled to see Commander Tucker slumped over; his head rested along T'Pol's abdomen and his hand dropped lifelessly toward the floor.

Immediately Phlox shut off the offending alarm and rushed to aid his patient. Glancing at the display on the modified tricorder, he noted the flatline moving rapidly across the small screen that should have shown a healthy sinus rhythm. Calling upon his superior strength, he hauled the young man up onto his own bed and quickly pulled open his shirt. Moving through the necessary motions with nearly instinctual ease, Phlox had Tucker attached to the cardio-stimulator within mere seconds and, after a few more frantic moments of mechanical adjustments, an erratic heartbeat flickered to life within the young man's chest again.

XXXX

"Did I do that?" The Captain's voice wavered between amusement and embarrassment.

Reed looked up from the monitor he'd been working over. "Yes, sir, it seems you did. And, according to what I can make out from this display, we've got less than five minutes before this place self destructs."

"WHAT!?" Archer leaned over Reed's shoulder. "How can you tell anything from this?" he indicated the foreign symbols racing across the screen in continuous rows, each one slightly shorter than the last.

Mentally counting to three (they didn't have time to make it all the way to ten), the Tactical Officer grasped his commander's hand and pulled him toward the passage that would lead back to the shuttle. "Trust me, sir. Call it a combination of intuition and a limited experience with this technology."

Nodding his acceptance, the Captain followed the Englishman as their pace quickened as much as possible in the environmental suits.

XXXX

"Ma'am?" Ensign Vega hesitated briefly before charging ahead, "I'm reading a massive power build-up on-board the weapon." He continued to scan, quickly updating his own report. "It's building to critical mass."

Hoshi looked at the viewer as if it held the answer to her newest dilemma. "How long?" she asked.

"At the current rate of increase, four minutes thirty-six seconds."

"Ensign Grik, set a course, any direction away from here, maximum warp on my command." She sat on the edge of the command chair, tension pouring off of her even as she exuded the confidence of an officer worthy of that position.

"Yes, ma'am," the young Tellarite responded as his stubby fingers moved over the controls.

Ensign Sato toggled the communications control on her chair. "Enterprise to Captain Archer." Static filled the bridge as they waited anxiously for a response.

At last, a change in pitch signaled the opening of the return channel. "Archer to Enterprise. We've got a situation here, Ensign."

"Aye, sir, we're aware of it."

"Good, then get the hell out of here." His voice was strained, his breath coming in short, rapid bursts through the channel.

'He must be running,' thought the temporary commander. "As soon as you're aboard, sir." Even as she spoke, their sensors picked up the shuttle's power signature.

Nervous eyes danced around the bridge as the rest of the crew listened in on the conversation.

"Now, Ensign," came the forcefully quiet answer. The shuttle moved away from the weapon at a painfully slow pace.

Meeting the gazes of the officers around her, Hoshi responded one last time, "I'm sorry, sir. Your signal is breaking up. We'll be meeting you in orbit."

XXXX

"Two minutes, fifty-two seconds, sir." Reed called over his shoulder as the small ship moved away from the airlock.

As the connection with Enterprise ended, Archer shook his head. "Damn stubborn woman!" he muttered under his breath before turning back to Reed. "Can't we go any faster? We'll never make it there in time at this rate." The Captain took over the primary flight responsibilities and began siphoning power from the life support systems and every other system on-board.

XXXX

"Are we set to move, Ensign?" Sato asked, her voice revealing none of the fear she felt.

"Aye, ma'am." Grik's answer was not as strong and a slight tremor laced the tone.

Hoshi stood behind and just to the side of the piggish officer. "Don't worry, Ensign," she said with a smile, "if I let the ship be destroyed on my watch, I'd never live it down. There'd be comments about 'women drivers' for the next two hundred years!"

With a bit of hesitation, Ensign Vega called out the countdown, "One minute, forty seconds, ma'am."

XXXX

Reed's calloused hands danced over the shuttle's control panel as he sent the remote signal to Enterprise to open the bay doors. "Approaching docking station one," he reported. "Emergency landing procedures activated."

"Confirmed," Archer said as he made subtle adjustments to their trajectory.

With a quick glance at the chronometer, Reed called out the time remaining, "Fifty-five seconds."

XXXX

The Enterprise bay doors opened as the shuttle screamed toward her belly. With the aperture barely wider than the small craft, emergency lights began flashing and the walls were covered in rapidly inflating heavy-duty poly-silicon cushions.

Shuttlepod One crashed through the narrow opening and skipped off the deck plating, throwing sparks up like miniature fireworks. It slammed against the now inflated air-bags of the far wall and bounced backward toward the open doors once again, but caught itself on the sidewall before screeching to a halt.

No sooner had the tiny ship settled into place than the hanger sealed itself once more and the occupants of the shuttle felt the distinctive jolt of jumping to warp. "Archer to bridge," the Captain called as he disentangled himself from the pilot's chair.

"Sato here, sir. We've gone to warp. We're clear of the blast zone, sir. Dr. Phlox has asked that you head straight to sickbay."

"I'm coming to the bridge, Ensign. I'm fine," he looked over at his partner as both men cleared the shuttlecraft and entered the now pressurized bay, "and so is Lieutenant Reed."

A brief pause, then, "Understood, sir, but the doctor said that he needs to speak with you as soon as possible regarding Commanders T'Pol and Tucker."

XXXX

"So, let me see if I understand this," Archer said a short time later as he paced the confines of Phlox's office. "There is nothing wrong with Trip. He is suffering the side effects of T'Pol's healing trance?"

"That is correct, Captain. You were aware of their bond, I assume? You don't seem surprised by the news." The Denobulan grinned slyly.

Archer ran a very tired hand over his face, drawing it down slowly and finally gripping his chin. "Yeah, I knew about it. But that still doesn't tell me how Trip could be effected like this." The Captain hitched his hip up onto the side of the nearest biobed and let his weight rest there.

Phlox leaned against the wall as he prepared for a complicated explanation. "Vulcan healing trances are very intense. It didn't occur to me at first that Commander Tucker would be affected by it because I didn't realize the depth of their connection through the bond. I assumed, falsely it seems, that his human physiology would not allow for the strength common among Vulcan mates." Taking a breath, the doctor continued, "If a mated Vulcan enters into a healing trance, only his or her mate can draw them from it. Typically, the mate will enter a deep meditative state and accompany the injured party in the mental-scape until the time comes for awakening when the healthy person initiates a gradual rising through the states of consciousness until both partners are fully awake."

The Captain shook his head as he squinted his tired eyes shut. This just wasn't the sort of thing he'd trained for at all. "And among unmated Vulcans?" Archer queried at last.

Nodding with understanding, Phlox answered. "Usually a Vulcan healer is required to rouse the patient, although there have been rare instances when a full healer is not available. In those cases pain has been used."

Looking up startled, the Captain's worried frown expressed his concern over that possibility. "Excuse me? Pain?"

"Yes, Captain. The patient can be struck repeatedly until he or she is alert enough to stop the treatment."

Feeling older than he would have thought possible, Archer leaned over slightly until his head rested on his hand, his elbow braced on his thigh. Weariness shown in the slump of his shoulders and a million tiny aches echoed throughout his body. "Okay, so now that I know more than I ever wanted to know about Vulcan healing trances, I'm still not clear why Trip's heart stopped "

Phlox worked at a counter along the wall. "Simple, really, I can't believe I didn't realize it sooner." He swirled the misty-colored contents of a small beaker over a radiant heat source. After a moment, he seemed happy with the results and poured the liquid into another dish, this one cup-like. He approached the Captain and handed him the steaming concoction. "Their bio-rhythms are in sync with one another. The bond that Commander Tucker thought had disappeared when T'Pol entered her trance simply went into a deeper level of consciousness than he was capable of accessing while awake."

Absent-mindedly, Archer started to sip the fluid but stopped abruptly at the sickly-sweet taste. He wrinkled his nose at the beverage as he eyed it suspiciously. Phlox merely reached out and gently pushed the cup back up towards his mouth. "It will help," was all he said. Shrugging, Archer drank deeply as the doctor continued his explanation.

"All this time, he's been receiving signals from T'Pol's mind to join her in the trance. So, you see, naturally once Commander Tucker succumbed to the internal command to shut down, his body adjusted itself to that of his bondmate." Phlox had returned to his seat now and rolled it around casually as he spoke.

"Naturally," Archer muttered sarcastically.

The Denobulan nodded, a broad smile plastered across his distinct features. "Among Vulcan mates this is not a problem, but for a human, his heart rate can not go that low and maintain his body. So, I've got him on the cardio-pump to take the pressure off his own systems. That way, he can focus his mental energies on Commander T'Pol and they can both return to living, healthy bodies when they are ready."

Rising slowly, the Captain placed his now empty cup on the Doctor's desk. He shook his head in frustration. Deep down, he hoped to never fully understand Vulcan mysticism and physiology. 'Really,' he thought, 'how is it even within the realm of possibility that two people can be so physically and mentally tied together?'

"I assume that all this means that they're both going to be fine?" The Doctor gave a brief nod joined by his trademark smile. "Thanks for the tea, Phlox. I'm going to get some sleep myself now. Call me if there's any change." Captain Archer headed toward the sickbay doors and a much needed rest.

XXXX

Trip was falling through darkness. He reached out but found nothing to grasp. A silent scream escaped him as he tumbled endlessly downward, arms flailing, feet kicking, desperately seeking something.

Finally, he seemed to relax a bit. Although the sensation of free-fall still surrounded him, his mind called out soothing words of comfort to him until at some point he seemed to land, softly and gently.

Gathering his senses about himself, Trip noted the heat first. It was hot and dry, like that day T'Pol had taken him to the lava fields on Vulcan. Each inhalation brought with it scorched air that should have burned his lungs, but instead he felt quite detached from the temperature, despite his awareness of it.

Next came the light. It felt as if his eyes had been closed for a very long time and someone had suddenly turned on the brightest light he'd ever seen. He wanted to flinch back from the intensity, but realized almost as quickly that it didn't bother him in the least.

Now he looked around and took in the desert he seemed to be standing in the middle of. His gaze moved up toward the sky and he noticed the two suns dancing across the horizon. The smaller red one seemed to be dipping low toward its dusk as the brighter yellow star painted the sky brilliant shades of orange and gold.

There were mountains off to one side, presumably the east, and a vast desert with no visible landmarks to the west. As the darkness gathered around the peak of the tallest outcropping, he recognized it for the monument that it was, Mt. Seleya.

'Woman, what have you gotten me into now?' he wondered. Shaking his head with a wry grin, he started making his way toward the mountain range.

After walking for what seemed to be very little time at all, he noticed what appeared to be two figures ahead. As he approached them the desert faded away gradually until he was surrounded by the white room of T'Pol's meditations.

His feet carried him steadily forward and when he got close, he saw an image of T'Les greet him with a reserved smile. When he was close enough he smiled broadly at them both. "Good afternoon, ladies."

"Trip?" T'Pol asked with worry evident in her tone. "How are you here?"

XXXX

End Episode Six

XXXX

The End of the Beginning

Part One

By: Angel Koerkel

Genre: Episodic

Rating: PG

Summary: Episode Seven of my virtual season five

Following is a summary (all in italics) of the previous six episodes of my virtual season. Feel free to skip ahead to the new story if you want, but I personally found it hard to keep track of all that had happened and thought this might be helpful!

XXXX

Previously on Star Trek: Enterprise:

"Dammit, T'Pol! What's goin' on!?" Trip dragged a hand through his hair. "Why are you shutting me out?" His voice became a whisper, "Let me help you."

"I don't need help," she growled between clenched teeth. "Now please go." She stood aside to allow him access to the doorway.

Trip walked slowly toward the hatch, but paused before he opened it. As he turned back to face her, she could see the unshed tears glisten brightly in his eyes. "Fine, you don't need my help," his voice was gravelly with emotion, "but did you ever think that maybe I need yours?" The door opened and he left her alone.

XX

T'Pol looked frail as she entered Trip's quarters. She met his eyes and he could see the green rims around her almond shaped orbs that indicated she'd been crying as well. "Trip, may we speak?"

XX

The airlock hissed softly as the pressure equalized. When the seals opened and the door slid aside, it revealed a pudgy, pig-snouted Tellarite wearing a Starfleet jumpsuit carrying the rank of ensign. He looked up sharply at his new commander.

"Captain Archer. Ensign Grik reporting for duty. Permission to come aboard?" His shoulders pulled back tightly at the closest approximation of attention that his physical shape would allow.

XX

"I never felt very comfortable among my peers, and when our worlds began peace talks I saw an opportunity to meet new races and find a place where I might fit in a little better. My father was furious that I would not be serving on a Tellarite vessel, but I told him it was my decision," Grik said.

A new kind of respect for the young officer grew in Reed's heart. "So, how is your family adjusting? Has your father come around?"

Darkness fell over Grik's face. His snout seemed to curl into itself as he answered, "My family disowned me when I left. I've sent them several letters, but they've never responded. My father's last words to me were that he had no son."

XX

"Captain?" she said. "We're receiving a signal. Audio only, it's a recorded message."

"Need help….attack….unknown….planet…defenseless….hurry."

"It's coming from a planet in the Ramy system."

Enterprise glided into a high orbit as she completed her scans. "Life signs?" the Captain asked.

Looking up, T'Pol answered, "None, sir." Her tone was soft, almost regretful.

XX

Archer began, "I just received word from Admiral Gardner that Earth's ambassador to the coalition conference, Nathan Samuels, has been kidnapped. Evidence of a Romulan phase weapon discharge was uncovered at the location they think he was taken from."

XX

"This is Dr. Ziros of the Romulan Star Empire. My family and I are attempting to defect to safety. As a sign of good faith, I will send information regarding a weapon recently used to destroy a planet within your quadrant."

XX

Phase blasts rocked the ship, throwing the bridge crew around like rag dolls. Commander T'Pol lay on the ground, a viscous green fluid pooling around her slim form. "Sickbay," Hoshi said to the air, "emergency teams to the bridge."

XX

Brilliant blue phased energy flashed out from the warbird and enveloped the tiny private ship containing Dr. Ziros and his family. It seemed to glow like a miniature sun for a moment, and then exploded just as powerfully as a supernova. Where Ziros' face had been on the warbird's viewscreen, now only an open starfield remained.

XX

"Ma'am, we're receiving a message from the Romulans."

"This is General Murol. We apologize for any inconvenience caused by the fugitive Ziros. Rest assured, he has been dealt with in the traditional manner for enemies of the Empire. Have a good day."

XX

Deep in her healing trance, T'Pol stood across from the image of her mother, T'Les, in the white emptiness of her chosen meditation mind-scape.

"We should not be afraid to share our love with someone who will understand our limitations and who will appreciate what we have to offer. There is nothing wrong with allowing our innermost selves to be seen by those we care about." T'Les looked over T'Pol's shoulder and into the distance.

XX

"This," Hoshi flung an arm fiercely toward the main view screen and pointed at the diagram of the Romulan weapon, "this was not built for defense. This was built to murder."

She collapsed back into her chair as if all of the bones had suddenly left her body. A sigh escaped her lips as she met Reed's gaze steadily but sadly. "They have to be stopped," she whispered.

Malcolm looked down at the diminutive form, her shoulders slumped as her breath caught in tiny hiccups brought on by the crying, and suddenly realized that he wanted nothing more than to protect this woman. The Romulans, the weapon, even Starfleet itself could all go to hell so long as she was safe. Taking a deep breath of acceptance, he crouched down in front of her and placed his hands on her knees. "They will be, luv."

XX

"What are you saying, Mal? They weren't trying to destroy the planet?" Trip asked.

Malcolm nodded. "That is exactly what we're saying. It looks like they meant to get rid of the people but keep the buildings and probably most of the surface intact."

XX

"Archer to Lieutenant Reed. I think we may have found your weapon. How'd you like a close up inspection?"

XX

"Captain," the engineer started, "you need me over there. Let me do this." He couldn't help shifting the medical tricorder Phlox had set up to monitor his recently questionable heart rate.

Archer faced his long-time friend and current subordinate officer. "Commander Tucker, you are ordered to report to sickbay and remain there until either Phlox clears you for duty by his standards or until I return. Is that clear, Commander?"

XX

Archer fiddled absently with controls as he listened to Reed. When an alarm began to wail and lights flashed wildly, he looked up sheepishly, "Did I do that?"

Reed looked up from the monitor he'd been working over. "Yes, sir, it seems you did. And, according to what I can make out from this display, we've got less than five minutes before this place self destructs."

XX

"Approaching docking station one," Reed reported. "Emergency landing procedures activated."

Shuttlepod One crashed through the narrow opening and skipped off the deck plating, throwing sparks up like miniature fireworks. It slammed against the now inflated air-bags of the far wall and bounced backward toward the open doors once again, but caught itself on the sidewall before screeching to a halt.

XX

Phlox was startled to see Commander Tucker slumped over; his head rested along T'Pol's abdomen and his hand dropped lifelessly toward the floor.

XX

"So, let me see if I understand this," Archer said a short time later as he paced the confines of Phlox's office. "There is nothing wrong with Trip. He is suffering the side effects of T'Pol's healing trance?"

"Their bio-rhythms are in sync with one another. The bond that Commander Tucker thought had disappeared when T'Pol entered her trance simply went into a deeper level of consciousness than he was capable of accessing while awake. I've got him on the cardio-pump to take the pressure off his own systems. That way, he can focus his mental energies on Commander T'Pol and they can both return to living, healthy bodies when they are ready."

XX

Trip was surrounded by the white room of T'Pol's meditations.

His feet carried him steadily forward. Soon, he saw an image of T'Les, standing alongside T'Pol, greet him with a reserved smile. When he was close enough he smiled broadly at them both. "Good afternoon, ladies."

"Trip?" T'Pol asked with worry evident in her tone. "How are you here?"

XXXX

AND NOW, ON WITH THE SHOW:

A slight frown crossed Trip's face. For a fraction of a second he tried to recall how he'd come to be in the middle of T'Pol's mental escape land. As he turned his head, Trip remembered walking across the desert landscape but nothing before that. "I'm not sure," he puzzled. "I think I was in Sickbay, but I'm not sure how I got here." His features furrowed deeper as his engineering brain tried to work the problem.

T'Les and T'Pol shared a glance over the confused man's shoulder just before the image of T'Les faded from view. Hesitantly, T'Pol reached out and stroked Trip's cheek. His gaze met hers as she said softly, "It doesn't matter, Trip. I'm glad you're here."

XXXX

Murol paced the warbird's bridge, impatience rolling off him in waves, as they cruised the galaxy looking for trouble. He turned toward the pilot and started to open his mouth, no doubt to shout some inane command, but was interrupted by the Tactical Officer. "General, we have spotted a ship!"

XXXX

Captain Archer tossed and turned despite his exhaustion. His mind would not be settled enough for a sound sleep. It seemed as if his very soul knew that something big was coming, something he could only hope to survive.

XXXX

"It has been three days since I first started Commander Tucker on the cardio-pump to allow him to concentrate on helping Commander T'Pol heal. As of this morning, his vital signs are slowly rising and I believe they will approach acceptable norms by late this afternoon at their current rate of increase." Doctor Phlox smiled broadly as he looked over his two patients, lying side-by-side on matching biobeds. The peaceful demeanor of their faces was reflected in the shallow ticks of the monitoring equipment keeping watch over their heart rates and respirations.

As if on cue, there was a subtle shift to T'Pol's eyelids. It wasn't much, barely noticeable, yet it was the only movement Phlox had observed from her since she first arrived in Sickbay after the Romulan attack.

"Rest now, Commander. You'll know when it's time," the Denobulan physician whispered quietly to his patient before turning to begin the daily routine of feeding his various pets.

XXXX

If someone had asked him, Trip would not be able to tell how long he'd been in this place with T'Pol, but he knew that he didn't want to leave. It was peace made physical. He could feel the calm all around him, circling, permeating his skin, moving through the flesh, deep into his bones.

He took a deep breath and smelled a crispness, purity, simplicity like he had never known before. Opening his eyes he was greeted with the same sight he'd seen every time he'd bothered to look. There, before him, was T'Pol in a mirror image of his position. She sat folded gracefully into herself in a lotus position with her eyes closed gently and her hands resting upon her thighs. He watched, content to just be, as her chest rose and fell in slow, shallow breaths.

Around them the whiteness had been replaced by a lush garden filled with an array of colorful and exotic looking plants that should have made the air heavy with their diffuse perfumes, but it seemed the air would not allow itself to be burdened that way and the flowers obeyed, leaving the atmosphere clean and clear. Sighing deeply, Trip once again closed his eyes and let himself drift.

XXXX

The bridge was quiet in the morning, just the way Hoshi liked it. Which is why she tried to report at least half an hour early for duty on most days. Oh, she liked it fine when the full staff was on and people bustled about, making reports, performing their various tasks too, but there was something disarming about the early hours.

The alpha crew hadn't started on yet, but the gamma shift was winding down. Illumination still ran at a simulated night level. The sounds seemed muted, softer, but the vibration of the deck plates beneath her feet still told her exactly where she was and that the sleeping giant surrounding her would awaken and protect her if need be.

It felt good.

XXXX

Archer strode onto the bridge, his nose buried in a padd that he carried in his right hand, a cup of coffee growing cold in his other hand. As he made his way past the Communications Station toward the Ready Room, he looked up to greet Hoshi. Her soft smile always helped him feel like he was prepared to start the day.

Besides, on this particular morning he had a special reason to seek her out. "Ensign," he started with a grin. "Could you please come into the Ready Room?" he asked without pause as he continued on his way.

"Of course, Captain," she answered, pushing back from her station and following her Commanding Officer. After the door had closed behind her, she moved a little further in to stand directly in front of the desk he'd seated himself behind. "Sir?" she asked with a question in her tone.

"Listen, Hoshi, I've been thinking and I'd like you to tutor me." The normally strong voice of Captain Archer had been replaced by the barely whispered tones of Jonathan.

Hoshi found the Captain's insecurity charming although she didn't understand it. "I'm sorry, sir, but what would you like to learn from me?"

Archer cleared his throat a little and stood. "Vulcan for starters, then probably Tellarite, maybe Andorian, definitely Klingon."

She barely managed to stifle the giggles that threatened to burst out as she answered. "Oh, but why, sir? I mean, the universal translator matrix is coming along nicely. It shouldn't be too much longer and there'll be no need for someone like me on starships."

"That's where you're wrong, Ensign. People like you will always be needed." Archer wondered if Hoshi understood just how badly he wanted to emphasize that he would always want her, and not as a translator, but there was no way she could know. He'd been very careful to not let his feelings for her show. "Machines are imperfect," he continued, "not to mention unreliable. They break or get lost or taken away. No, I've decided that I don't want to count on a piece of circuitry to save my butt." He smiled at her, a boyish smile that had served him well with women in the past, while at the same time knowing he couldn't flirt out right.

For just a second, Hoshi thought she saw something in the Captain's eyes, something she didn't want to think too much about, but then it was gone and she felt better meeting his gaze. "Sure, Captain. I'd be happy to teach you."

XXXX

A grin that could only be described as evil slowly curled the edges of Murol's mouth. His eyes crinkled in a way that most seasoned soldiers would find scary as he turned toward the young officer that had spoken. "Really?" he drew out the question, savoring the promise of the word. "What kind of vessel?"

The Tactical Officer spoke with confidence as she answered, "It seems to be a Starfleet transport ship, sir."

"At last," Murol replied to no one in particular. The Voldem, Murol's warbird, had been given free reign by the Romulan Council to begin advancing the empire by sheer force nearly two weeks ago. Now, at last, it seemed they had found some easy prey. It was time to begin teaching this 'Starfleet' just who the real power was.

Coming to stand behind B'trix, the Voldem's Tactical Officer and one of the general's lovers, Murol growled out, "Bring all weapons online. Prepare to lower the cloaking shield on my command and fire."

He turned slowly back toward the viewscreen as his smile broadened to an even more sinister degree. "Fire," he said calmly.

XXXX

Snuggled close together in the tiny quarters granted to traveling civilians, Viat and Brekka of Tellar tried to sleep. As she listened to her husband's constant struggles to find a comfortable position, Brekka allowed her mind to wander. She was on her way to Earth! It was hard to believe, but Viat had insisted they make the journey after reading one of Grik's recent letters.

He was convinced that their son had been brainwashed. The boy spoke glowingly of his human friends onboard Enterprise and of the beauties on Earth that he hoped to be able to visit soon. Viat was beside himself with anger. How could his offspring think so favorably of these foreigners without having been coerced into it?

So, now they were on their way to Starfleet Headquarters to have a meeting with the head of the Officer's Exchange Program. Viat wanted Grik out of it, off of Enterprise, and back home where he belonged! Never mind that Brekka had finally made peace with their son's decision. He seemed happy, accepted, for the first time in her memory and that was what was important to a mother.

Regardless of her opinion however, they would be in San Francisco in just over three days. As she began to drift off to sleep in the cramped quarters of the transport vessel, Brekka wondered what one wore to visit Starfleet Headquarters.

XXXX

Hoshi sat at a small table in the Officer's Mess, a data padd in one hand and a cup of herbal tea in the other. As her eyes scanned down the lines of information feeding across the small screen, she sipped the hot beverage and savored its tangy taste. So lost was she in her work and the warm liquid swirling over her tongue that Malcolm Reed's approach went unnoticed until he finally tapped her on the shoulder. "Hoshi?" he questioned.

Startled, she glanced up quickly, nearly spilling her tea before setting it down. "Hey Malcolm. Don't sneak up on me like that!" she teased.

Pulling out a chair and sitting down, the Brit snorted a response. "Hmph. I tried calling your name three times. I'd almost begun to think you were ignoring me on purpose."

"Never," she smiled shyly as she reached across the table and brushed the back of his hand. Looking down, she picked her teacup up again and took a swallow to hide her slight blush.

Malcolm quickly changed the subject since he didn't know how to respond to that. "What are you working on that's so distracting?" he asked, bringing his own cup, filled with black coffee, to his lips.

"The Captain wants me to tutor him in the more common alien languages," she stated.

Looking into his cup, Malcolm felt an abrupt queasiness in his stomach at the same time as his grip on the mug tightened. It took a moment for his brain to process these physical manifestations of emotion and even longer to realize what feeling they represented. When he did understand, he dismissed it immediately. 'Jealous, old boy? Over what? He's the Captain, she's his linguist. Besides, it's not as if you'd have any say even if it weren't work related.'

"Really? Well, that's good I suppose," he managed to say in a normal tone of voice even as he decided he wanted to have a say in her off-duty activities. Grasping the decision tightly for courage, he once again changed the subject. "Listen, Hoshi, I was wondering…"

She looked up at him, her dark chocolate eyes melting his brain into mush just by meeting his gaze. A soft smile played at the edges of her mouth as his suddenly went dry. She put down the data padd and tea as she folded her hands neatly on the table as if in anticipation. "Yes, Malcolm?" she asked when his voice seemed to have stalled.

He cleared his throat, "I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me this evening?"

"Well, sure. Why not? We've had dinner together plenty of times." She almost seemed disappointed as her glance fell back on the padd; but before she could pick it up, Malcolm had reached across the table and taken her hand gently in his own.

"No, what I mean is, would you have dinner with me?" His thumb stroked the back of her hand and as she looked up again to meet his eyes she saw there a spark of something, like a smoldering fire that only needed to be encouraged to grow into a roaring inferno.

Now a deep blush moved over her cheeks and a delicate smile graced her entire face as she answered, "I thought you'd never ask."

XXXX

"Trip?" T'Pol's voice nudged his mind like a breeze over a field. It flowed over him, around him, through him without ever disturbing him. Again she called, "Trip," this time a bit more insistently.

"What is it now, woman?" he grumbled good-naturedly as his eyes began to peek open.

"It is time," she stated calmly.

His baby-blues came fully open and he looked around them. No longer were they seated in their garden, but once again they were standing in the white nothingness that she proclaimed to prefer.

He moved forward and brought his hands up to her upper arms. Holding gently to her, he asked, "Are you sure? We can stay as long as you need."

The love she saw in his eyes encouraged her. "We can not stay locked in our minds forever, Trip. I am healed physically. It is time to go home."

Trip's head cocked slightly to the side at the mention of physical health. "What about mentally? Emotionally? I know it was the head injury from the Romulan attack that sent you into this trance, but while we're here we could work on our broken hearts, too."

For the first time, Trip watched as her face tilted into an almost awkward smile. She brought one hand up to cradle his cheek. He leaned into it and closed his eyes to enjoy the feelings that washed over him. Acceptance, peace, love. "Thank you, Trip. Your support has healed me, in more ways than one. As with you, my hurt will never be completely gone but I believe that together, whether here or in the real world, we can survive anything."

He opened his eyes again and brought both hands up to cup her face. As he drew her mouth towards his he whispered, "I love you, T'Pol of Vulcan."

Just before their lips touched she answered, "And I love you, Charles Tucker."

XXXX

The Voldem dropped out of warp, decloaked, and fired on the unsuspecting ship within seconds. Never one to give up the advantage, Murol ordered a ceaseless barrage of disruptor fire. Fist raised in triumph, he watched as the tiny transport began to shatter under the relentless attack. Bulkheads buckled, atmosphere vented, and he imagined the silent screams that would be wrenched from the throats of the passengers as the vacuum of space stole their voices.

"Sir, we're receiving a hail from the transport ship," his Communications Officer announced.

"No doubt we are," Murol's grin widened. He waved a dismissive hand at the comm. Board. "Very well, it may be amusing. Put them on speakers."

Shrill static flooded the bridge for a quick moment and then it coalesced into a frantic tone. "Please, stop. There's been a mistake. We are not a military vessel. This is a transport ship and we are completely defenseless. Please, I say again, we are defenseless. We have innocent civilians on board."

Murol made a slashing motion across his neck and the pleas died on the air. "I was wrong; they are not the least bit entertaining." The general began to stalk toward the back of the bridge and the turbolift when, almost as an afterthought he said, "Fire at will until they are destroyed." Then the lift doors swallowed him up, leaving only the reverberations of the disruptors to echo through the bridge.

XXXX

Viat was thrown violently from the tiny bed he shared with his wife. Brekka banged her head against the wall at the same time. They scrambled together and sought safety in each other's arms. Huddled on the floor, bouncing against the bulkheads with each new hit on the outer skin of the vessel, Viat's thought was that of bitterness and resentment toward Starfleet. Why were there no starships defending them against what was obviously an unwarranted attack? Brekka cried silently that she had not answered Grik's letters. As her hot tears cut through the thick cloth of Viat's nightshirt and wet his chest she felt ashamed of her behavior toward her son, but only for a moment before she felt nothing at all.

XXXX

Trip Tucker sat up in his biobed, shoveling food into his mouth at a pace that was almost painful to watch. "I don't think I've ever felt this hungry before," he managed between bites.

"It's only natural, Commander. Your body has been under considerable stress the past few days and liquid supplements simply weren't adequate to meet its demands." Phlox fluttered back and forth between his patients, his broad smile broader than ever as he checked and rechecked their vital signs.

"Indeed, Commander, although I am not the least bit hungry." T'Pol sat up in her matching bed, her hands folded delicately across her lap and a look of all seriousness pasted across her features.

Just then Captain Archer strode into the room. "Too bad, T'Pol. I come bearing vegetable stew and half a loaf of Chef's finest wheat bread. He has given strict orders that you are to 'eat it all and then call down for more'." He placed said tray of food across the stoic Vulcan's lap before moving over to slap Trip's thigh in welcome.

"And since when did Chef begin giving orders on Enterprise?" T'Pol asked after swallowing a spoonful of stew. She broke off a hunk of bread and dipped it into the thick sauce before placing it on her tongue and chewing. A flash of sheer ecstasy crossed her face before she could stop it.

"Does it matter? Looks like he was right." Archer pulled up a chair and sat between his two best friends as they enjoyed their meals. Finally, all was right with his world.

XXXX

Hoshi Sato nervously ran her hands down the front of her clothes again. 'This is silly,' she thought. 'I've had dinner with Malcolm hundreds of times!' the rational part of her brain muttered.

'Ah, yes, but never alone in his quarters,' came the emotional part. Again she smoothed the pleats of her only off-duty dress. The skirt floated around her knees as the peachy-orange hue of the tropical design highlighted her eyes.

Just as she raised her hand to announce her presence, the hatch slid open and Malcolm smiled at her. He moved aside and gestured her in. "I hope I wasn't being too forward, inviting you to my quarters, Hoshi. I just thought it might be nicer than the mess hall." He lowered his head bashfully as she moved gracefully past him and into the privacy of his small cabin.

Soft classical music played in the background and two tall unlit candles graced the table's center. "Sorry the candles aren't lit, but I didn't think I could get permission for an open flame."

Hoshi looked into his eyes. "It's perfect," she said as he grinned.

XXXX

Ensign Saunders, the Beta shift Communications Officer, looked up from his console. A deep frown furrowed his face as he toggled a switch on the board. "Captain Archer?" he asked into the microphone.

Within seconds the response came back from somewhere on the ship. "Yes, Ensign," the echo of laughter filtered through the Captain's voice. The young officer could almost see him smiling.

'Too bad,' he thought as with a heavy sigh he continued, "Captain, I have an incoming message from Starfleet. It's Admiral Gardner, sir, and it's marked urgent."

All the joy instantly left Archer's tone. "I'm on my way, Ensign."

XXXX

It was just fifteen minutes later when all the senior staff was gathered once again in the conference room. Archer looked around the room, surveying the crew that had grown up so much in the past few years. His glance lingered especially on his Science Officer and Chief Engineer. They sat side by side, but not touching. "Commander Tucker, Commander T'Pol," he greeted. "Are you two supposed to be out of Sickbay?"

"It's just a meeting, Captain. Phlox said we could come," Trip answered in a slightly petulant tone, sounding slightly like a whiny three-year old.

A quick look to Phlox confirmed this for Archer. As the Denobulan nodded, T'Pol picked up the explanation, "We were temporarily released from Sickbay provided we return there immediately after the briefing."

"All right, then; we just have one more officer we need to wait for," Archer stated before flicking the communication switch on the wall nearest him. "Ensign Grik, please report to the conference room."

As the Captain turned back to his officers he noticed something else unusual. "Ensign Sato, are you wearing a dress?"

Blushing deeply, she responded, "Yes, sir. I didn't have time to change."

XXXX

It was a very nervous Tellarite indeed that entered the conference room a few moments later. Grik's eyes darted anxiously around at the gathered officers as his mind screamed at him to shrink in on himself, to not draw attention. Surely there must be some mistake. He'd never been called into a staff briefing before and so far as he could recall he'd not done anything that would require a public reprimand. 'Do they even perform those in Starfleet?' he wondered. Forcing himself to breathe steadily, he moved forward and took the last remaining seat, which happened to be just on the Captain's left hand side.

Now that the final officer was present, Archer began, "I'm sorry I've interrupted your evenings." Hoshi and Malcolm shared a shy glance before the Captain continued, "but unfortunately, there's been another Romulan attack." All heads shot up to stare in horror at the Captain's grim features. He nodded sadly as he continued, "this time it was an unarmed transport ship. A Vulcan ship arrived on the scene first after receiving a distress call and confirmed the Romulan disruptor phase signatures. There were no survivors."

Archer looked around the table at the faces of his crew, his friends. Hoshi had buried her face in her hands and small muffled cries could be heard from her. Phlox's eyes had closed as he tilted his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose. Trip reached silently across the small space until his hand found T'Pol's. Together they clung tightly, waiting for the rest of the Captain's news. Reed lowered his gaze to the table and nodded in sad acceptance. Ensign Grik looked horrified at the latest turn of events.

Standing, Archer began to circle them slowly as he spoke. "We are currently on a heading to the transport's coordinates."

The Captain sighed heavily. Pausing in his seeming death-march, he placed a hand on Commander Tucker's shoulder. When his friend looked up into his eyes he continued, "I received word from Admiral Gardner himself that Starfleet has officially declared war on the Romulan Empire."

Explosive voices echoed around the tiny room. It seemed everyone had something to say and no one wanted to wait. "I can't believe this!" "It's about bloody well time!" "Oh my God," "Captain, there has to be another way." "It is logical at this juncture." It seemed the only silence came from Ensign Grik. His features had schooled themselves into that of a scolded child, uncertain if it was safe to speak despite the cacophony around him.

As the Captain noticed the Tellarite's lack of comment, he raised his hands to quiet the room. "Okay people. That's enough. Look, it's not for us to decide the right or wrong of it. The fact is we are at war. We should be at the 'Mayflower's' coordinates by 0800 so I suggest you get some rest because I intend to track the warp signature of the bastard that did this and blow them out of the heavens." His calm, straightforward tone was a direct counterpoint to the angry words but no one present doubted his sincerity.

Following another deep breath, Archer resumed his walk in silence until he reached his chair. After sitting down he met the eyes of each officer again. "I know it's been hard lately and it's about to get even harder. You are the best in Starfleet and I'm proud to serve with each and every one of you. Now, dismissed. Get some sleep because I expect to see all of you back at stations by 0700." As the weary crew dragged themselves from the room, Archer called out, "Ensign Grik, will you please remain?"

Startled, the young man nearly stumbled before righting himself again. "Of course, Captain, sir."

Archer indicated the chair nearest his, "Please, Ensign, sit down."

When the doors had closed behind the last of the retreating officers, the Captain turned solemn features on the clearly scared Tellarite. As he spoke again, Archer's tone became softer, almost parental. "Ensign," he directed the promising young officer directly, "I'm very sorry to have to tell you this, son, but your parents were on that ship."

Speechless, Grik sputtered wordlessly before finding a response. "That's not possible, sir. There's been a misunderstanding." Despite his previous nerves, the piggish-man felt quite confident that this was clearly a miscommunication.

Archer reached out and placed his hands on the rounded shoulders of his helm officer. "I'm sorry, Grik, but it's been confirmed by Starfleet. It seems they were on their way to a meeting in San Francisco…"

"NO!" Grik yanked his hands back and stood defiantly. "My parents hated – wait, I mean hate – Earth! They would not be on any transport ship going anywhere near there."

"Son, they had an appointment for the day after tomorrow with the head of the officer exchange program." Archer continued to speak softly to the boy, trying with his voice to calm him down. "There is documentation that they boarded the ship as it orbited Tellar."

Grik seemed to deflate, his body collapsed bonelessly back into the chair he'd recently vacated. Crying into his hands, he uttered, "No, no, no…" until only his muffled sobs could be heard.

XXXX

The three men gathered around a small outdoor café table made quite an interesting tableau. Even in San Francisco, people were not accustomed to seeing an Andorian, a Tellarite, and a Vulcan eating together out in the open.

Soval reached for his tea as he pushed away the plate emptied of salad. "A short time ago, the three of us vowed our support to Starfleet in their time of need. Vulcan stands behind that promise. We will offer our assistance and ships in this war against the Romulan Empire. Where do your governments stand?" He sipped at the fragrant concoction and peered pointedly at his fellow representatives.

"Hmph. You imply that we do not honor our word?" bellowed the Tellarite, his argumentative nature unable to be quelled. He slammed his meaty fists onto the tabletop causing the remaining drinks to slosh over their rims and onto the white cloth.

Calmly, Soval steepled his fingers upward as he addressed his colleague, "I imply no such thing. My superiors simply wish to know who our allies are in this conflict."

"Well, you can rely on the Andorians. We may not always agree with you green-bloods, but this is one time we are on the same side." Thoris, the Andorian representative, said calmly, glancing at his Tellarite counterpart.

The Tellarite, Vego, squeezed his piggish eyes shut tight in a gesture of agreement. "We will fight with you," he ground out past crooked, yellow teeth.

XXXX

Captain's Log: We have reached the last coordinates for the "Mayflower" and have begun the slow task of backtracking the Romulan warp signature. T'Pol assures me that we will have no trouble following their trail despite the degradation of the signal due to the passage of time.

On a personal note, I can't wait to get my hands on this bastard. Earth didn't need another war, not this soon, and now we've got one with these faceless marauders."

Archer slumped into his desk chair, a shot of whiskey held loosely in his right hand as he ran his finger around the rim. The amber liquid sparkled in the starlight peeking in through the porthole window and he could smell its fiery scent on the air. His fingers tightened slightly around the glass and he raised it high, letting its contents swirl gently, almost as if he were debating with himself whether or not to drink the alcohol within until at last he drew it to his lips and downed it in one swift motion.

Slamming the now empty shot glass on the desktop, the Captain stood and paced the small confines of his quarters. "Computer, continue recording," he called out as he toggled the control pad.

"I'm so damned tired. We're supposed to be explorers! When did we become soldiers? Why does it seem that everyone we meet wants to kill us? We entered this galaxy looking for knowledge, a sharing of ideas and ideals. Instead, we've found hatred, closed-mindedness, evil." He paused for a moment and took a deep breath as if some new thought had just occurred to him, a look of surprise at his sudden realization crossed his features before one of acceptance settled in. "When this war is done, I'm out. I can not continue to live my life for something that no longer exists, maybe it never did."

XXXX

Ship's night had settled several hours earlier as Trip and T'Pol sat opposite each other in her quarters, a yellow flame dancing between them. There was total silence, complete peace between the two and as she leaned forward to extinguish the candle, he moved as well to meet her halfway. As they both blew lightly across the fire, he smiled a crooked grin at her.

"Your technique has greatly improved," she commented dryly even as she moved around the candle's base to sit closer to him. "However, even with your mental shields in place, I can still feel that you are troubled." T'Pol had placed herself so close to him now that their knees touched and as she spoke, she reached out and took his calloused hand in her smooth one.

"No fooling you, is there sweetheart?" he asked. A quirked brow was her only response so he continued. "Yeah, I've been thinking lately about some pretty serious stuff, no denying that I suppose."

"Indeed. War is always serious, Trip, and we have seen our share of it." No one but he would have noticed the slight dip in tenor that belied her fear and weariness.

He nodded before replying, "That goes without saying, darling, but I've been thinking about some other stuff too…." He let the thought trail off, part of him hoping she'd let him drop it and the other part of him wishing she'd push the issue just a little harder to give him the courage to go on.

T'Pol turned at the waist to peer into his eyes for a moment before asking, "And what 'stuff' might that be?" Her grip on his hand tightened imperceptibly and a small tremor shook through her although she wasn't sure why.

Trip felt her body shake and could see doubt in her eyes. Smiling, he leaned in to kiss her. Her soft mouth gave under the delicate pressure of his lips and soon their tongues deepened the kiss as he reached his hand up into her hair. He grasped the back of her head and held her close to him as long as possible. When they finally had to break for breath, he rested his forehead against hers. Gasping softly, he said, "God, but I love you."

The emotion he packed into those few words caused her to pull back from him slightly and meet his gaze once more. As their eyes met, he continued, his voice stronger now though still heavy with feeling. "Lord knows I tried not to. I mean, what right-minded human man wants to fall in love with a Vulcan?"

She quirked an eyebrow at this, although no serious offense was taken. She knew her people's reputation among humans and could fully understand.

Trip continued unimpeded, "But the more I got to know you, the more I came to respect you and somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you and now I know there's no going back."

"The bond…" she interrupted.

"That's not it," he denied, shaking his head. "I mean, yeah sure, it made things hard to deal with at first, but I was already head over heels in love with you long before we bonded, darling. There's no going back because no matter how long I live, no matter whom I meet or where I go or what I do, there will never be anyone that compares to you. If we separated tomorrow, severed the bond, and went our different ways, I'd never love another woman." He looked at her openly shocked expression, something he didn't get to enjoy very often as he cupped her face in both hands and whispered, "You're it for me T'Pol. You're the one."

"Trip, that is deeply moving," she managed to whisper back.

He chuckled deep in his chest and shook his head slightly. "Leave it to you, sweetheart, to take a declaration of undying love and make it sound so simple."

"I am sorry, Trip. I didn't mean to offend you," T'Pol began to backpedal, quickly looking for some way to reassure him that she appreciated his pronouncement without compromising her Vulcan sensibilities.

"Oh, love, I'm not offended. That's who you are, and I get that now. I thought I got it before, but since that healing trance, I have such a deeper understanding of you." He took her hands again and brought them to his lips. He kissed her knuckles before continuing. "What I'm trying to say, and apparently doing a piss-poor job of it, is that I love you, woman, no matter what else may happen in this messed up universe we live in and I want you to be my wife."

She was silent so long that Trip was beginning to get scared. He wouldn't look in her eyes, just stared at the backs of her hands still held close to his face. "Please, T'Pol, say something, darling." At last he looked up and his breath caught in his throat.

T'Pol's eyes were wet with unshed tears. Her mouth opened slightly but no sound came out until all at once she seemed to regain her senses. Pulling herself up to her straightest posture, she replied, "It would be my deepest honor to join our families in marriage." When Trip's response was a lopsided grin, she relaxed into his embrace. "That is Vulcan for yes, I will marry you."

His full belly laugh shook them both and they toppled over together onto the meditation pillows. As Trip brought his arms around her back and slid his hands under her shirt to caress the soft skin of her lower back he smirked, "I'm so glad you said yes, honey, cause now we get to celebrate."

With that their lips met again and soon all thoughts of anything except each other were distant memories.

XXXX

End Part One

XXXX

The End of the Beginning, Part Two

Aka: Faith of the Heart

By: Angel Koerkel

Genre: Episodic

Rating: PG, some mild language

Disclaimer: I don't own Enterprise or any portion of Star Trek. This story is for entertainment purposes only.

Summary: Well, here it is, the final episode of my Virtual Season Five. I hope you all remember this mini-series of mine. It started so long ago I can hardly believe it! It's been an adventure in itself to write this and I'm so thankful to everyone who's read it over the past almost two years and commented, especially those who've stuck with it between the postings!

That being said, I wrote most of this chapter very quickly in an attempt to get in to HoT by the Feb. 1 deadline for story completion, so I apologize in advance for any typos/grammatical errors, as I did not do my usual multiple read throughs!

XXXX

A chorus of applause greeted Archer's arrival at the podium. He honestly seemed stunned to hear it though and started to glance around to see whom everyone was clapping for. When his eyes met those of the Enterprise senior staff, already seated on stage, he blushed slightly and continued to his place behind the microphones.

"It's been a long road, getting from where we started to here; it's taken a long time, but our time is finally here. Of course, heaven knows we're not done. There's still a long way to go, but today our dreams come alive. We've made real headway and I'm so honored to have been part of the process." Soon-to-be Ambassador Archer spoke softly to the assembled crowd. The Starfleet arena was filled to capacity and then some with a multitude of races. His eyes scanned the group in an attempt to calm his nerves.

Finally, he cleared his throat before continuing. "God knows we wouldn't have made it this far without the dedication and service of many outstanding individuals and I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce some of them to you."

XXXX

SIX YEARS EARLIER:

Ship's morning came too soon for Trip. He and T'Pol had spent the night celebrating their love and engagement and now that it was time to go on duty, he was exhausted, but in a thoroughly good way. Reaching over he stroked her chestnut locks as she stirred from sleep. "Morning, sleepyhead!" he teased gently.

Her fingers began to run idly along his chest, just below where her cheek rested and she stretched her leg across his mid-section. "Obviously I was in much need of rest after last night's…activities," she answered in a soft voice made husky from sleep. "However, now I am fully recovered," and with that she surprised him by tightening her grip with her leg and foisting herself across his body so that she straddled him. At the same time, she maneuvered her hands to grasp his wrists and pull them high above his head.

Caught off guard, Trip was stunned for a moment, before beginning to laugh. "Darling, much as I'd like to stay here with you and wear us both out again, duty calls."

T'Pol's grip tightened slightly with one hand so that the other could let go and begin stroking lazy circles along his abdomen, moving slowly lower and lower. "I believe we have a short time," she purred before leaning over to take his mouth in a searing kiss.

Just as their lips met her communications panel beeped at them. "Archer to T'Pol."

Pinning Trip with her gaze, she moved off of his form and reached the toggle switch. "Yes, Captain?"

Shaking his head at her completely normal sounding voice, Trip climbed off the bunk as well, earning himself a raised eyebrow from the beautiful, naked Vulcan. When he began to get dressed, her second brow joined the first.

"Please meet me in my Ready Room in fifteen minutes. I'd like to go over a few things with you this morning before the staff briefing," Archer's voice boomed out of the wall.

She nearly sighed in frustration. "Very well, sir. T'Pol out." As soon as the channel closed, she turned to Trip. "You should not have gotten up yet," she admonished lightly.

"Sorry, darling, no more time for fun this morning. We've both got things to do, starting with talking to the Captain." He kissed her softly before heading toward the door.

XXXX

Together they approached the Captain's office and announced their presence. When the hatch slid aside to admit them, Archer stood, a look of surprise on his face. "Morning, Trip. I didn't expect to see you in here so early."

Nodding at his friend's greeting, the engineer and science officer moved closer to their captain. "I know, sir, and I know you need to talk with T'Pol so I won't stay long, but there's something we need to tell you and the sooner the better."

The Captain looked from one officer to the other before deciding that he would learn nothing from these two based on facial expressions. "All right then," he hesitated slightly, surely it couldn't be good news, "what is it?"

Trip took a deep breath to steady his nerves and felt T'Pol's mind brush lightly against his in a gesture of reassurance and support. He gave her a lopsided grin before going on. "Captain, I've asked T'Pol to marry me and she's accepted."

Archer gave a heavy sigh and cradled his face in his hands for a moment. Trip felt himself deflate immediately at his friend's reaction. "Captain? I thought you'd be happy for us. I mean, when I told you about the bond and everything, you seemed okay with it."

"I am, Trip, personally, but as your Captain, this couldn't have come at a worse time." He stood and began to pace as much as possible in the confined area. "You know Starfleet won't allow you to marry and serve on the same ship and now with the Romulan War…"

T'Pol spoke up for the first time since entering the office. "Sir, it would be highly illogical for Starfleet to recall one of us at this time. Besides, we are already married."

Both humans looked up at that, one angrily the other with shock. "What do you mean you're already married?" The Captain practically ground his teeth as his gaze redirected to his engineer.

Trip shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know, Captain, it's news to me. T'Pol?" Despite the seriousness of the situation, a grin to rival Phlox's broke out across Trip's face.

"Indeed, we are, according to Vulcan law at any rate. We have been for some time. When I accepted the Commander's offer last evening, I assumed he understood this and simply wanted to formalize the arrangement."

"The bond," Trip whispered.

A single nod from T'Pol answered him. "The bond," she said.

Seeing a loophole and grabbing onto it with both hands, Archer grinned maniacally at his friends. "The bond!" he cheered.

XXXX

Admiral Gardner's expression was not a happy one. In fact, he looked as if he'd been eating raw lemons recently. As he listened to Archer explain, a deep crimson came over his face as well. "Let me see if I understand you, Captain," he emphasized the rank. "You're telling me that your Vulcan Science Officer and Human Engineer are telepathically linked in what amounts to a Vulcan marriage and now they want to have a human ceremony, too?"

Nodding, but being careful not to smile, Archer responded, "Yes, sir. They've requested that I perform a wedding for them as soon as possible."

"You do know the rules on non-fraternization, do you not, Captain Archer?"

"I'm aware of them, sir, but as I've already stated they've been married for more than a year already, we just didn't know it. In that time, I've found no reason to fault either of them for performance of duties. In fact, the telepathic link has definite benefits for their work as a team."

Shaking his head, Gardner popped what looked like an antacid before he said, "Damn Vulcan mysticism. How can you be married for a year and not know that you're married? How is it even possible to be 'mentally linked'? And what the hell am I gonna tell other officers that find out about this and want to get married?" He nearly groaned at the frustration of it all.

Archer nodded in sympathy. "I know, sir, it's difficult to understand. I'm not sure I even understand it all myself, but it is true." Taking a deep breath he went on, "I see no reason not to grant their request, Admiral, and unless you order me otherwise, I will perform this marriage, and soon. But, sir, if you do order me not to, Commander Tucker has already said that he will resign his commission immediately and Commander T'Pol promised to follow. Sir, I can't lose my top officers at a time like this."

Throwing his hands up, Gardner acquiesced. "What the hell do want me to say, Jon? You've got me over a barrel and you damn well know it. But, know this too, this will not become a habit. I will not be manipulated like this again. Understood?"

"Understood, sir," Archer responded, barely able to hide his smirk.

XXXX

Three days later, to the surprise of almost no one, Archer performed the first Enterprise wedding.

XXXX

SIX MONTHS LATER:

"Dammit, Trip, why can't we get this guy? It feels like we've chased Murol from one end of the galaxy to the other and so far all we've done is bump heads a few times." Archer grumbled to his best friend as they shared dinner.

Tucker swallowed his last bite of steak as he nodded. "I know, Captain," he finally said. "The past months have been hard on everyone, but at least they haven't attacked any more civilian ships, and now with Washington due to launch next week…" the engineer trailed off as Archer raised his hand in acknowledgement and nodded.

"Yeah, it's been rough," the Captain admitted as he gave his friend careful scrutiny. "But you seem to be weathering the storm pretty well." A small smile actually touched his lips for a moment as the southerner blushed slightly.

"Well, I've got T'Pol," was all the other man said. They finished off their meals in pleasant silence as each contemplated the recent past.

It was true that Murol had slipped passed them at every opportunity, but he had gotten a bloody nose a time or two before managing to get away. The rest of the crew had been starting to show signs of fatigue over the past couple of weeks and Archer was secretly grateful to get the call from Gardner to come home for Washington's launch celebration. They would be arriving at Earth in less than 24 hours and he knew that his officers were counting the minutes to shore leave.

It wouldn't be much, but even just three days at home, visiting friends and family, putting your feet on actual ground, feeling Earth's welcoming natural gravity tugging gently at your heels, not to mention the feel of the sun, would be a stress relief. Archer, himself, wasn't ready to head back in. He and Trip had started having these private dinners once a week not long after Trip's marriage to T'Pol as a way for them to stay connected and Jon had rapidly rediscovered his best friend and simultaneously a great outlet for the stress he didn't even realize built up over the course of the typical day. They would eat a good meal and usually spend a couple of hours watching the latest game from home or playing cards or just sharing a drink. It didn't seem like much, but it was the best medicine money couldn't buy for an overworked captain that had already faced more than his share of war and responsibility.

Finally, when dinner was done, Archer spoke up again. "You know, some of the crew is transferring off for Washington?" It was rhetorical, obviously Trip knew since some of his engineering crew were among the transferees.

"Yep, I know. It'll be rough training some newbies right now, but Washington deserves to get the best she can, too. They'll be a huge asset to her captain." Trip tossed a silly grin to his friend. "Sides, if the new recruits have all been through Travis's course, they should be good to go!"

Laughing, Archer answered, "It'll be nice to see Travis. According to what I've heard, he's doing well; his feet are firmly planted on solid ground at last."

XXXX

As the transferees moved through the docking ring to board Washington's shuttle, Archer clasped their hands. He frowned slightly as his eyes came upon the last man in line. "Ensign Grik, damn I'm sorry to see you go."

The young Tellarite's face looked honestly touched to hear sincere sorrow in his Captain's voice. "As am I, Captain. It's been an honor to serve with you and I'll never forget all that I learned here, sir." He reached out to accept the Captain's handshake.

Archer pulled the stout figure into a loose embrace and clapped him across the back. "I'm sure you won't." As they moved apart again, he continued. "Captain Stiles is a fine officer and you'll have plenty more to learn under his command, but he's awful lucky to be getting you for his Chief Helm Officer."

"I'm sure Captain Stiles is a good man. I've been sharing quarters with his son since I came on board Enterprise," Grik nodded. More quietly he went on, "and thank you for all that you did for me after, well you know, after my parents…I don't know what I would've done without my friends here." His eyes turned downcast and his ears twitched slightly in embarrassment.

Shrugging off the appreciation, Jon smiled. "Don't mention it."

XXXX

ONE YEAR INTO THE WAR:

Stars streaked past the window outside the Ready Room as the Captain of Enterprise sat slouched down in his desk chair, a cup of cold coffee long forgotten next to his computer.

Archer looked frustrated with himself. He'd been studying so hard and yet Hoshi's expression was one of pained tolerance. "Really, sir, it's much better than last week. Just keep listening to the recordings I made for you and practice saying the consonant inflections. Before you know it, you'll have basic Klingon down." She gathered up the padds she'd brought with her. "The best way to learn any language is just to use it. Talk to yourself."

"All right, I'll keep trying, but if someone walks in on me unannounced they'll think I'm crazy!" He smiled at her, a warm, friendly smile and for just a second she thought maybe there was something else he wanted to say. Dismissing it almost as quickly, she stood to go.

"We've only been working at this for a few months, sir. You learned Vulcan incredibly fast, but this is completely different. Don't be discouraged," Hoshi reached out to place her hand on his shoulder as a sign of encouragement, but before she could pull away, he reached up and placed his own hand over the top of hers.

Their eyes met for a moment, and this time she knew there was more there than friendship, before she pulled her gaze away along with her hand. "Sir," she started.

"No, don't say it, Hoshi," Archer stood. "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate of me."

Looking up at him she answered, "I'm flattered, sir, really. Maybe if things were different…but they're not."

He nodded. "I know, I'm your Captain…"

"Yes, you are. You're also my friend." She smiled at him. "And, I'm involved with someone else."

At that, his head jerked up. "I'm really sorry, Hoshi. I didn't realize. I mean, there'd been rumors a few months ago about you and Malcolm, but I haven't heard anything in a while. I just assumed that you'd stopped seeing each other." He looked truly embarrassed at his latest faux pas.

This time it was a very shy grin that turned her lips up. "We're just trying to be discreet, sir."

He openly laughed. "Well, at least you know you're doing a good job at it!"

She laughed too and shook her head slightly. "I'll see you on the bridge in the morning, Captain. Next week's lesson will be on conjugating verbs, so practice!"

A grateful sigh escaped him. "You got it, teach!"

XXXX

SEVERAL MONTHS LATER:

Enterprise screamed through the silence of space as she bore down on the sight before her. Called away from a routine security patrol by a broken distress call, no one was sure what they would find but the reality was terrifying. There in the inky blackness was her sister ship, Washington, limping along trying to get away from her attacker. It was obvious though that she wasn't gaining any ground.

"Polarize hull plating!" Archer screamed above the whine of engines as Enterprise rapidly went through her paces, maneuvering around in a wide arc to approach the bird of prey from above.

T'Pol answered, "Plating at 100 efficiency, Captain. The Romulans are blocking all communications."

Archer moved to respond, but was cut off by Reed. "Sir, enemy weapons are firing." A moment later, the viewscreen glowed brightly and Enterprise watched, helpless, as Washington was struck again. Her sister ship was now listing lifelessly in space, all her ports going dark as the ship's power systems obviously failed. "Washington is dead in the water, sir. Life support failing, major hull breaches," looking up the Englishman finished, "she doesn't have long, sir."

The Captain leaned over the Communications panel. "Dammit, Hoshi! Get me through that Romulan static. I need to talk to someone over there!"

"Trying, sir," she answered as her fingers danced rapidly across the board, throwing switches and sliding levers all while she listened intently to the changing background sounds, hoping to bust through the interference. At last, she looked up, triumphant. "Got them, sir." Immediately the forward screen changed from the shell of a dying starship to the interior of the nearly dead bridge.

"This is Captain Archer of Enterprise. Captain Stiles, can you hear me?" Archer's body screamed tension as he leaned forward as if trying to launch himself through the viewer and onto the bridge of his friend's ship.

Coughing was the first transmission, followed by a near hacking sound and metal scraping metal as someone obviously tried to get within the viewer's visual range. At last, a head could be seen. Ensign Grik pulled himself back into his seat at the helm and addressed the camera. "Captain Archer? I'm sorry, sir, but Captain Stiles is dead." The Tellarite appeared to look around himself at the bridge. "I think, sir, that everyone else is dead. I can't be sure because I seem to have been blinded after the last attack, but I don't think anyone else is left." The young man broke off as a coughing fit struck.

Finally able to speak again, he went on. "I just want to say I'm sorry, Captain Archer. I'm sorry I disappointed you."

"You didn't disappoint me, son. Now listen, we're gonna start getting the survivors on board Enterprise, just as soon as we're close enough for transporters. Commander T'Pol says there's," he broke off as she filled in the staggeringly low number of, "13", "there's thirteen of your crew still alive, and we intend to get you over here very soon so just hang on."

Nodding, Grik said, "Okay, sir, I'll try."

Before Archer could respond, Reed called out frantically, "Sir, another warbird, coming in fast. It's General Murol's ship." He paused for a moment as he scanned the enemy's energy signature. "Sir, its weapons are already charged." Both Romulan ships turned together toward Washington and fired.

"Lieutenant, fire at will!" Archer called over his shoulder, hoping to draw the enemy ships away from the defenseless Earth ship. He could feel Enterprise's weapons' power surge through his ship, felt the vibration low in the deck plates that indicated the build-up and immediate discharge, saw the rapid fire across space that emanated from his vessel. And he knew it was too little, too late.

Washington shuddered once before she exploded from the relentless attack.

The Romulans turned quickly to their new prey and began strafing runs across Enterprise's bough. Wiping his eyes of unshed tears, Archer turned to his shocked crew. "Continue firing, Lieutenant. Evasive maneuvers, Ensign," he called to the helm. The deck rocked beneath him as Enterprise was struck repeatedly by the alien weapons. He made his way to his seat and held on tightly as the ship bucked against the energy being absorbed by the hull plating.

"Sir," T'Pol began, "I must remind you that Enterprise is outgunned and out-numbered."

The glare Archer turned on her would've frightened nearly anyone on board into silence. But she was his friend and she understood his anger and self-blame. "Sir," she said quietly, gently, "we will share Washington's fate if we remain." Her look was one Trip would've recognized instantly as sympathy.

Between gritted teeth, Archer barked to the helm, "Get us out of here, maximum warp." As the ship began its turn to race to safe territory, a final blast shuddered across her hull. Sparks flew across the bridge as the lights dimmed and then restored. The Captain picked himself up off the floor and looked around. "Everyone okay?" he asked.

Muttered responses sounded out from all stations, except one. Glancing over quickly, Archer jumped across the small space separating him from the Communications station. "Hoshi!"

The young woman was crumpled on the floor beneath her panel, a ragged gash running from her temple, along her jaw, and down the side of her throat to her clavicle spewed bright red blood. As the Captain tried to stop the flow, he heard T'Pol's voice in the background calling for medical assistance and felt Lieutenant Reed's hands moving over his, trying to help control the bleeding.

XXXX

Dr. Phlox approached the Captain as he sat side by side with Lieutenant Reed. "Captain?" The Denobulan collapsed, exhausted into the final chair. "Hoshi is out of surgery,"

Reed scanned the doctor's white coat carefully and noticed the dull red splotches scattered across the fabric. He suddenly felt very nauseous but forced his stomach into compliance as he listened intently to the report.

"She's sleeping peacefully now. She should be all right in a few days. Lieutenant Reed's blood donation helped a great deal." A broad smile was aimed in the Englishman's direction.

XXXX

A FEW DAYS LATER:

Trip, T'Pol, and Captain Archer sat around the large table in the Captain's dining room. Their plates had been cleared and they shared a few moments of comfortable silence as each was lost to his or her own thoughts. Suddenly, T'Pol rose gracefully from her seat. "If you will excuse me, Captain. I should retire for my evening's meditation."

Tipping his head toward her slightly, Archer said, "Certainly T'Pol. Sleep well."

"Thank you, sir." She turned toward her husband, seated just to her right and leaned into his space. Trip softly stroked her two extended digits with his own calloused ones. "Don't be too late tonight, Trip. You have complained repeatedly lately of exhaustion."

Laughing, Tucker said, "All right, darling. I'll be along soon." He slid his fingers around to gently grasp her wrist and draw her down for a human kiss, which she did not resist in any way. Their lips barely brushed each other before he released his hold on her.

"Goodnight, Captain," she said and then she was gone.

After a few more seconds of silence, Archer spoke up. "I envy you, Trip." Sadness touched his voice and tiredness marred his features.

"What do you mean?" Tucker asked, truly stunned.

"What you and T'Pol have. When you were first married, I was outright jealous. Not of T'Pol specifically of course, but I was so sure that I'd lost my best friend for good. But, now I'm just envious of the closeness you two have. I watch you together," he gestured his hand toward the recently vacated chair, "and I wish I had that with someone." Rising, he moved across the small room and poured them both a drink.

"Jon," Trip uttered softly, the rare use of his Captain's first name did not go unnoticed.

Swallowing deeply as he sat back down, Archer waved off his friend's concern. "It's okay, though. I mean, I made a choice, right? I always wanted to be a starship captain, and I knew that with that decision I'd have to make some sacrifices. I've known for years that I'd probably never get married, have a family, and that was okay; it seemed a fair trade. But, lately, I see you two, how you complete each other and I long for that. You know?" At Trip's slight nod, he continued. "When Washington was destroyed the other day I realized that I won't always have Enterprise. One way or another, my friends will transfer off, get promoted, my ship will be decommissioned or destroyed, I'll get promoted….some way, I'll end up alone. Suddenly it didn't like such a good bargain I'd made."

Trip looked up sharply, he could hardly believe what his friend was confiding in him. "What are you saying, Jon?"

The amber fluid swirled around the glass's edge in rising waves as Archer circled his wrist faster and faster until at last he stopped and slammed the last gulp of fluid down his throat. He closed his eyes and let the warmth flood him, from belly out. Pushing out his chair slowly, he waved off the unanswered question. "Never mind, Trip. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me tonight." The Captain walked quickly out of the room and left a stunned engineer sitting there holding an untouched drink.

XXXX

Trip entered their quarters as silently as humanly possible. Despite his stealth, T'Pol sat up in bed, letting the light blanket that covered her fall to her waist. For a moment he admired the beauty of his wife as her sleepy eyes and disheveled hair called him to comfort. "Sorry, darling," he whispered. "Go on back to sleep."

She rubbed a hand lightly over her face as she answered, "I was not sleeping. I could feel your distress. What is wrong?"

Knowing she was at least in a light sleep, but appreciating her concern, he let the small lie go. "The Captain. He," Trip shook his head and dragged a tired hand through his messy hair, "I don't know, hun. Something's got him in knots." He looked his wife square in the eyes. "He's lonely. Jon wishes he had what we have." Trip moved forward at last and sat beside T'Pol. He stroked her cheek lightly as she leaned into his palm.

"We are very fortunate, Trip." Sensing through the bond that there was very little she could say to ease his worry, she decided on action instead. "Come, let me share with you how very lucky we are." With that, she pulled him into her embrace and down onto the doublewide bunk that had been specially made for them by the ship's stores department as a wedding gift.

XXXX

INTO THE SECOND YEAR OF WAR:

A cruel smirk turned General Murol's features into to a grotesque mockery of joy. He laughed too loudly as he faced the tactical officer. "You're sure? No mistakes this time," he shouted with glee.

"Yes, General. It is Enterprise. We're still too far out for their sensors to detect us, but that is definitely them." The young officer indicated the blipping red signal moving rapidly across his screen.

"Excellent," Murol sneered. "Engage defenses and arm weapons. Archer will not escape this time."

XXXX

On Enterprise's bridge, Captain Archer paced from one station to another. "Come on," he muttered. Speaking a little louder, he addressed T'Pol. "He's got to be here somewhere, T'Pol. We've gotten reports of planetary raids throughout this area for the past month."

"Nevertheless, our scans do not reveal General Murol's ship anywhere in the vicinity, sir. However, we have only completed one-third of the progressive sensor sweep. There is still a vast area to be searched."

Nodding and waving off his science officer's comments, Archer responded, "I know, I know. But, dammit, this is the closest we've been to nailing this bastard in a long time."

T'Pol arched one brow, but Hoshi answered the Captain. "We know, sir. We all want to see him pay for all the damage he's done." For a moment he reflected on the destruction of the Washington the year before. Everyone on the bridge had lost friends in that attack. Of course, there'd been plenty of other battles, but that was the one that had cut Enterprise so personally, some more physically than others as Hoshi absent-mindedly stroked the puckered skin along her jaw line that had never quite healed properly.

Malcolm Reed's voice broke into the shared memories. "Sir!" he yelled, "a bird of prey, coming in fast! I don't know where the hell they came from, they weren't there a second ago." His fingers flew across his control board preparing for the orders he knew would be coming within seconds.

"Battle stations! Polarize hull plating, weapons armed and ready," Archer responded and the bridge crew jumped to work as the alert went out over the ship's communications system.

XXXX

No sooner had the Re'tok appeared on the Earth ship's scanners than Murol had ordered his tactical officer to fire. The imposing vessel soared over the main hull of Enterprise and lit out with every weapon in her arsenal. Deep scorch marks appeared instantly on the matte gray finish as more beams made contact. "Direct hit, sir, but their hull plates are still intact," the officer reported without taking his eyes off his instruments.

"Evasive maneuvers, continue fire, attack sequence 'prailet'," Murol ordered as he looked over his crews' shoulders. He wandered the bridge; deep in concentration trying to out think the human that had become a more competent enemy than could possibly have been foreseen.

As more energy lanced out from the under belly of the Re'tok, Archer gave his own orders. "Return fire! Maintain those hull shields, draw power from wherever you need it, but keep us covered!"

Ensign Michaels at the helm swiftly forced the ship through her standard evasive maneuvers while adding in a few unorthodox twists of his own. Meanwhile, at tactical, Reed's hands flew rapidly across his controls causing twin bolts of energy to blast out from Enterprise toward her nemesis. T'Pol had her hands full keeping the hull plates at optimal levels and continuously scanning the surrounding area for more Romulan ships that may have been coming to assist their great General. A look of severe concentration was etched on Hoshi's face as she listened intently for any communications traffic.

Archer was proud of his people and knew that they would always perform beyond his expectations. Still, he wanted to give them that extra little push. "Let's not let Murol get away from this one, people! I want everything we've got and them some. I aim to blast him from the sky!"

Another impact resonated through Re'tok's deck plates, but Murol just grinned maniacally. "Ah, Archer, you can pretend all you want to battle me, but in the end, it will be I who goes home today." He cackled as yet more energy pulsed across his hull.

"Minor damage to the Re'tok, sir," announced Reed as he changed their weapon's harmonics, hoping to break through a little more by using a different frequency.

The ships seemed to dance around one another in some sort of perverse flirtation as ribbons of energy flashed back and forth between them. Deep space seemed an appropriate backdrop for the silent waltz they performed. But even the ships themselves seemed to know that only one of them would finish the song.

Enterprise was taking a truly intense beating and Archer began to wonder how much longer they could stay in this fight as calls came in from all over the ship with damage reports and crew injuries. Just when he'd started thinking it might be time to withdraw, a brilliant light lit up the viewscreen. He looked sharply to Reed for an explanation. "We got him, sir! Direct hit on their engines."

Sure enough, as Archer turned back to the screen image, he saw the atmosphere venting from Re'tok's engineering area. The warbird's lights began flickering as if in spasm, and then went out. "Hoshi, open a channel," he whispered.

At her nod, he said aloud, "Murol, this is Captain Archer. Surrender. We will bring your surviving crew on board Enterprise as prisoners of war."

A slightly insane laugh was his answer. "Archer," Murol's slurred voice came back, "you have been a most worthy adversary, but Romulans are not taken prisoner, as you well know. It has been…fun." With that, the audio signal closed out.

"Sir, massive energy readings coming from the Re'tok," T'Pol said.

"Helm, maximum warp, any direction," Archer barked at Michaels. Enterprise shifted slightly underfoot and then was gone in a streak of light just as a blinding explosion engulfed Murol's ship.

XXXX

NEARLY A YEAR LATER:

Archer sighed in frustration. It had been incredibly difficult to hammer out a cessation of hostilities over audio-only communications, but the Romulans had refused a face-to-face encounter. Finally the details were completed and all that remained was the verbal signing. Admiral Gardner stood stiffly on the bridge of Enterprise speaking to the air around him. "We of the United Earth government, and her allies, hereby authorize and accept this treaty as the final cease-fire in the Romulan-Earth War."

A surprisingly soft, if not entirely pleasant voice resonated around them as the answering call came in and was dutifully recorded, "We of the Romulan Empire also authorize and accept this treaty as the final cease-fire in the Romulan-Earth War."

Nodding his approval, Gardner once more spoke out, "Thank you, Senator Shryla. Now I suggest both our vessels exit this area immediately so that the newly designated Neutral Zone can begin its duty."

"Agreed," she answered. Abruptly both ships turned for their respective borders and went to warp.

XXXX

"Well, Jon, I guess you can finally get back to exploring," Gardner smiled. The senior staff was gathered around the Captain's table for a celebratory dinner and as the Admiral made his remarks, more than one officer turned to look in question at him.

Archer sat his water glass down slowly before meeting the eyes of his friends. "Really, sir? I was under the impression that one of our primary duties would be to patrol the border of the Neutral Zone."

The Admiral's smile quickly disappeared. "Yes, that will be one of your assignments."

"Doesn't sound much like exploring to me," Trip stage-whispered from the other end of the table.

Gardner's eyes turned angrily on the engineer. "Do not think for one minute, Commander, that you can get away with insubordination just because we happen to be in an informal setting. I am still your superior officer."

"And this is still my ship, Admiral," Archer said softly. "Commander Tucker may be out of line, but that doesn't make him wrong. What exactly will we be exploring while we're going back and forth along the same sector of space?"

"For one thing, Captain, you will not be alone in your patrol duties. All of the NX ships will take a turn on rotation. There will be plenty of opportunity for scientific exploration." Gardner looked weary now, as if he had suddenly been drained of all the will to continue this discussion. "Look, Jon, the fact is that we can't leave this border without guard, not now possibly not ever. But that doesn't mean that you guys will get all the bum duty. I've done my best to make sure that everyone gets a fair shake in this new set-up, and that includes you especially."

Archer gave an accepting nod. "Fair enough, Admiral. I'll have to trust you on that." To bring a close to the evening, he raised his wine glass and looked around again at his officers. "To lasting peace and absent friends."

The sentiment was echoed reverently around the table before everyone sipped their beverage of choice. The Captain allowed his eyes to wander over the top of his glass and observe his companions. Trip seemed momentarily appeased as he leaned in toward T'Pol and she allowed him to place his hand over hers on the tabletop. Malcolm whispered something in Hoshi's ear that caused her to blush slightly as he grinned boyishly at her, all pretense of discretion long since gone. Phlox seemed to be as taken in with watching the humans around him as Archer himself was. When their eyes met, a sly smile was shared. At last, Jon came to Gardner's features. True, the Admiral looked older than he had before the war, a lot more than a mere three years worth of aging, but he also looked relieved.

Soon people began making their goodnights and exiting quietly. When Archer and Gardner were left alone, the Captain retrieved his bottle of good scotch and two tumblers. Silently he poured a hefty amount into each before returning to his seat and handing one to the Admiral, whose gaze remained fixed on the amber liquid. "I mean it, Jon. I really did put my neck out for you guys to get a good deal of time free from patrol duty."

"I know, and I'm sorry about earlier. I guess we're all still a little punchy." Archer took a deep swallow, and then continued, "We got pretty used to being alone out here. Earth's a damn long way away and we usually had to fly by the seat of our pants. Suddenly, we're being told that all we're good for is border monitoring. Kind of a slap in the face, you know?"

Gardner looked up. "Yep, I hear you. It's not meant to be that way though. Starfleet thinks very highly of you and your crew."

"Good to know, sir," Archer smiled and the two finished their drinks over friendly small talk.

XXXX

THREE YEARS LATER:

Captain Archer, Trip Tucker, and T'Pol sat around the dinner table together on Enterprise for the last time. "Can you believe it's been ten years, Trip?" Archer asked around a mouthful of carrots.

Shaking his head and smiling, Tucker agreed, "I know. Sometimes it feels like yesterday, but so much has changed. God! Do you remember how young we all were?" Suddenly his eyes turned cloudy as memories flooded him. A touch of sadness crossed Trip's face as he met his wife's eyes and held them, "We were so innocent," he whispered.

T'Pol reached her hand across the table and squeezed Trip's in a shared moment of remembered loss and Jon politely averted his gaze. "We are still young, Trip."

"I know, darling, I know." He acknowledged.

"Perhaps now would be a good time to begin working with Dr. Phlox? All three of us will be stationed on Earth following Enterprise's decommissioning." She lowered her eyes for a moment and Archer suddenly felt as if he should slip away quietly. "Unless you no longer wish to have a baby?"

With that, the Captain did start to slowly slide his chair out to be as unobtrusive as possible. "Captain, don't go," Trip said, looking up at his rising friend briefly before meeting his wife's gaze again. "And as for you, missy, of course I still want to have a baby with you! I love you, you crazy Vulcan woman!"

The slight raising of her eyebrow and tender non-smile let Archer know that this must be a fairly common, if somewhat strange, endearment. "My apologies, sir," T'Pol stated when she looked over at the Captain a second later. "This conversation is one better left for private. We are here to celebrate, correct?"

Trip's face lit with a broad grin. "Damn right! Can you imagine? Enterprise is gonna be a museum!"

XXXX

Malcolm paced furiously as he pulled his hand through his hair for the thousandth time and Hoshi secretly looked on from the other side of the open door. Finally, she made her presence known. "You're going to be bald if you keep doing that, you know," she teased as she stepped through the hatch and closed the door behind her.

"Um, yeah, well," Reed sputtered a response.

Now slightly worried, Hoshi moved quickly to his side. "Malcolm, are you all right?" She took his nervous hands in hers.

He nodded and smiled. "Yeah, luv, I'm perfect."

"Okay." She drew the word out as she searched his face for a clue. "What's going on, Mal?" she asked, hands on hips in the universal sign of slightly confused female.

"Have a seat, Hoshi," he answered around his laughter. When she sat down, he turned quite serious and kneeled down in front of her. As she grew cautiously curious, he reached into his pocket and drew out a delicate looking diamond ring, confirming her suspicions. He held the band of the ring between his thumb and forefinger as he explained, "I've carried this around with me for nearly five years now." Her brow furrowed in question so he went on. "Right after the attack on Washington," she reached up unconsciously to brush her fingertips against the tiny puckered scar that remained visible from that particular encounter and he raised his empty hand to gently draw hers away from the physical reminder. "You know, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever known, inside and out, and all that tiny piece of skin shows me is how brave you are."

She started to shake her head in disagreement, to argue how she never really wanted to sign on to Enterprise to begin with, how she'd nearly left the ship several time that first year out, but he'd heard all about those things long ago. "You have changed from the shy, timid linguist I met a decade ago into an accomplished, confident officer. You are responsible for the universal translator matrix now being installed on all starships and personal communicators. Above all that, you are caring and giving and generous, and I could go on for hours." He glanced down at the ring and took a deep breath. "And you are the woman I love more than anything in this universe. As I started to say, I have had this ring nearly five years, waiting for the right moment, the perfect timing to say all this, but it never happened." Malcolm chuckled a little as he met her gaze. "If there's one thing you'd think I'd have learned by now, it's that perfect moments don't happen, they're made, and tomorrow's not a guarantee." He sighed deeply and smiled, "Hoshi Sato, will you marry me?"

XXXX

The evening had seen a movement of the celebration from the dining room to the Captain's quarters, where Trip and T'Pol now sat, almost cuddled which still blew Archer's mind sometimes, in an old comfy chair Jon had brought on board a couple of years ago after a shore leave at home. As for the Captain himself, he sat in his desk chair, straddling it backwards, as the three shared memories of the past years and friends long gone.

"Then," Trip could barely speak for laughing so hard, "then, Elizabeth said…" The door buzzer interrupted before he could complete the sentence that was apparently very amusing.

Shrugging his shoulders, Archer turned toward the door. "Come," he called. Jon was only mildly surprised to see his communications officer and tactical officer together on the other side. "Come on in, you two," he smiled as he raised a glass. "Want a round?"

"No, thanks, sir," Hoshi began, practically glowing with happiness that only went unnoticed because of the general state of good cheer in the room. "Actually, we're here to ask a favor."

Standing, Archer faced his friends, "Name it," he answered in all seriousness.

The two glanced shyly at each other for a moment before Reed turned back to their Captain, "Will you marry us, sir?"

"Tonight, Captain," Hoshi added.

"What! Tonight?" Archer sputtered. Trip and T'Pol shared a glance before he rose and clapped his friend on the back.

"Congratulations, Mal, thought you'd never get around to asking her!" he laughed good-naturedly.

T'Pol stood also and surprisingly teased the officer as well. "Indeed, I had begun to wonder at the logic of carrying a ring for years if you had no intention of using it."

Hoshi blushed as she turned to her fiancé. "They knew about the ring?" she questioned in mock anger.

"Um, I told Trip about it, yeah," the Englishman muttered.

As Trip smiled broadly he responded, "and of course, my wife and I have no secrets from each other."

Now Malcolm looked slightly irritated with his friend, "Yeah, yeah, the bond, we know." He turned back to Archer. "You haven't answered us, sir. Will you do it?"

Jon met Hoshi's eyes, and for just a fraction of a second there was a connection that he knew represented lost opportunities. "Yeah, I'll do it," he answered around the lump in his throat. "Just one question, why tonight? We'll be on Earth tomorrow, both your families could attend."

"Well, Captain, once we're in Earth orbit you won't have the authority to perform the marriage, and we really wanted you to be the one to do it," Reed replied.

Taking Malcolm's hand in a firm clasp, Archer smiled, "Then I am truly honored. Oh, and one more thing, Lieutenant," the grip got a little tighter, "if you ever hurt her," he let the unnamed threat hang in the air just a second as the Englishman's eyes grew wide with understanding. "Now," the Captain cheered as he released Reed's hand and slapped his back, "let's get this wedding started!"

XXXX

Jonathan Archer cast a proud smile over his – no not his anymore – officers. They each returned his gaze. The crowd around them seemed to melt into nothingness as, for a second, the commander and crew of the finest ship of Earth's fleet beamed at each other. A decade of memories, both good and bad, flowed among them. They wouldn't all be going in different directions after today, of course, but they would never all serve together again. Idly Archer wondered if any other crew on any other ship would ever become the family that this team had been. He sincerely doubted it.

Looking out over the front few rows again, he caught the gaze of the newly minted Admiral Hernandez. They'd talked a lot lately via subspace, and now that they would both be stationed on Earth for a while, he hoped they'd get to spend even more time together. Moving his eyes down a few seats, he saw another welcome sight. There was Travis Mayweather and his wife with their newborn son. Yeah, the future was looking pretty good from where Ambassador Archer stood. It was time to move forward.

At last, he turned back to the auditorium at large and addressed the gathered throng. "Space is not the final frontier, as some have suggested, for although we may explore new worlds and seek out new civilizations, our continuing and ever-changing relationships with each other and with the new friends we make on the way is the true voyage…. our ceaseless adventure." With a final glance over his shoulder, Ambassador Archer smiled. "And, now, at last," Archer continued, "I believe we have a charter to sign." When all was said and done, it had been a good day.

The End

Author's Notes: Hope you all enjoyed this. It's been a trial and tribulation for me! Please let me know what you thought, good or bad. I feel like I should say something completely Trek-nerdy like "live long and prosper". So, there you go!