A/N: Hey, it's my first story, so please forgive any technical snafus. Please review if you want; my ego is due for an overhaul.

Setting: This story is set pre-Expanse and all that.

Disclaimer: ST:Ent characters are owned by Paramount, not me. Obviously. Because if they were mine, I wouldn't have ruined their friendships or treated them so shabbily.

Chapter One: The Protocol Packet

He was always quiet during the morning senior crew meetings. Typically, he would just listen, fixing his gaze on whoever was reporting, giving that person the courtesy of his full attention. He already knew the contents of each report. He believed in letting his senior staff run their own departments without undue interference, yet he could recite in an instant what issues each chief faced on a day to day basis. These were mundane meetings, quick discussions regarding whether the ship was running low on stores, or whether any navigational changes needed to be made.

He was different over a meal. Often he would request the presence of one officer or another over breakfast or dinner, it didn't matter. On those occasions, he was softer, more friendly, gently teasing even his Vulcan second in command. It was as if over dinner he laid aside the heavy mantle of starship captain and for a few moments indulged in the freedom of friendship and a common love of the stars.

But during staff meetings, the captain was thoughtful and attentive, all business. Lieutenant Malcolm Reed finished his quick but thorough report on the ongoing upgrade of the weapons systems. He sat back with a satisfied, "That's it, sir."

Jonathan Archer gave a brisk nod, "Thank you, Malcolm. Let me know if you need to take the engines off-line again. We can schedule that during Delta shift." He rested his elbows on the conference table, tented his hands in front of his chin, and turned his head slightly to the left for the last status report. "Ensign?"

As expected, Travis Mayweather pulled up a star chart on the screen. "We should be in the Daenaris system in about two days. Another half day after that and we'll be in hailing range of Avdev for final approach and orbit coordinates."

"The Avdevi do not allow orbit of the planet itself," observed T'Pol. "There is a docking station near one of its moons. From there, they transport visitors, escorted, to the surface by shuttle."

Travis smiled. "As long as they don't make me parallel park, I think it'll be okay."

Archer noted T'Pol's quick, curious flicker of expression, but declined to explain the reference. "Well, if nobody has anything else to add, we're adjourned." His staff rose from their chairs and made their way to the door, chatting amongst themselves. T'Pol, as usual, hung back, keeping herself ever so slightly separate from her shipmates.

"H'lya t'shnara meth," Archer said quietly. T'Pol froze, then turned slowly in the doorway. Her gaze was steady as she stared at him for a moment. "That is Vulcan." The fact that she stated the obvious gave voice to her surprise.

Immediately Archer's defenses went up like force field. He straightened his spine and raised his chin, expecting cutting criticism at his very first attempt to communicate with his second in command in her native language. He wished he'd kept his mouth shut, rather than give in to the impulse to demonstrate his new hobby. "I'm sure I mangled it pretty badly," he said, his pride at mastering those few tongue-twisting syllables disappearing like mist.

"As with any other language, Vulcan takes practice," T'Pol replied impassively. "But that was satisfactory for a beginner."

"Thanks," Archer said, knowing both that she would not say so if it were not true, and that this was all the praise he was going to get from her. "I'll see you on the bridge in a few minutes." She left the ready room, reflecting on the captain's unceasing ability to surprise her.

Interesting, T'Pol thought to herself. The captain did not usually display much, if any, interest in things Vulcan, other than to make sure there was some edible dish for T'Pol to consume at communal meals. And he never, ever willingly made himself vulnerable to what she knew he considered to be her Vulcan condescension of Earth and humans. She did not mean to appear condescending at all, not that any of the Enterprise crew would ever believe that. They were friendly to a fault, but her culture and upbringing did not allow her to process their overtures. Often, she felt like a parent surrounded by small children; every so often one of them would approach, open faced and smiling, to include her in their lives. She was getting better, she thought, at accepting their overtures with respect, at least.

But Archer remained aloof, an improvement, certainly, over the hostility he had displayed when T'Pol had first been assigned to Enterprise by Vulcan High Command. Even so, once in a great while he showed to her the same impish sense of humor, the same concern for her comfort, for which he was so admired by his crew. Of their loyalty to him, she had no doubt. Hers, she was still working on.

She slipped onto the bridge and took up her customary position, picking up her studies where she had left off. Part of her duties as second in command was to prepare the ship and her crew for first contact. That was the mission facing them now, and her briefing of the captain was of utmost importance. First contacts had, by and large, been difficult for the humans, even with the vast database grudgingly provided to them by the well-traveled Vulcans.

Per Starfleet's orders, Enterprise was paying a short visit to the planet Avdev, the government of which had extended a formal invitation upon being notified that the starship would be passing through the system. The Vulcans, who had made their first contact with Avdev half a century ago, had described the Avdevi as "somewhat taxing." T'Pol seriously wondered if Archer had the patience to deal with them, even for one day.

The captain entered the bridge, but, per his standing order and in keeping with his informal style, no announcement was made. He slid into the command chair and immediately turned his attention to his data PADD.

After some time, Hoshi Sato turned. "Sir, I've received the protocol packet from the Avdevi regarding Head of State visits."

Archer straightened. "Head of state? I thought it was just a short visit, a couple of photo ops and we're out of there."

Hoshi shook her head. "Well, there's a formal reception and banquet after your speech at Parliament. . . "

"Speech! Who said anything about giving a speech?"

T'Pol commented, "The invitation extended to you mentioned your addressing the Members of Parliament in session. It would be both unwise and impolite to refuse."

Archer smirked. "Then I suggest you start writing, T'Pol. You don't want to leave this task to me."

T'Pol studied him for a moment, then agreed, "Understood." Who knew what would come out of his mouth, unscripted?

"I need to brief you on protocol, sir," Hoshi added. "It's quite involved."

"You don't think I can handle it?" Archer's voice was amused.

"Er, I doubt it, sir. There are so many rules of protocol, I thought for a second I was reading a textbook on Obsessive Compulsive Disorder." She laughed. "There are rules governing how many people can be in a room at one time, who gets spoken to first, how food is eaten, it's endless."

"According to the database," T'Pol explained, "Avdev is comprised of five major land masses, only three of which are habitable. The other two, each about the size of Earth's Australia, are used strictly for agriculture and raising livestock. The government is a representative one, a loose conglomeration of states, although there is also a strict caste system in place."

"Some Avdevi are more equal than others," Archer commented.

"Quite," T'Pol answered. "There are thirty-five different cultural groups represented in Parliament, and each group had its own belief systems, languages, dialects, and government prior to the merge. The complicated protocol system is the only way all of those disparate groups can function together. Still, there is a small, but violent underground anti-government movement, called the Pindad. There is yet no consensus about how to deal with the insurgents."

"Are we talking about government by committee?"

"Yes," put in Hoshi, "and from what I've read, it works just about as efficiently as you might expect. By the way, I'm one hundred twenty pages into this packet, and I'm still in the 'Proper Greetings' section."

Archer knew when he was in over his head. "Okay," he sighed, "schedule a briefing for you, me, and T'Pol tomorrow at ten hundred hours. We'll work on it all day if we have to."

By fifteen hundred twenty hours the following day, Archer was ready to bang his head against the bulkhead until one or the other dented. He was not a man prone to giving up, but at last he sighed, "I can't remember all of this." Somewhere around the rule against bowing at the waist in mixed company, or maybe the thirteen different levels of the legislature – each with its own form of address – he conceded defeat.

T'Pol sat patiently in the corner, observing and offering advice, but Hoshi had taken to pacing the room like an exasperated teacher. "No, captain, you have to use your left hand when passing documents to persons higher than the fifth level, no, your other left – here, let me show you."

"Better yet, Hoshi," Archer snapped with a glint in his eye, "you're coming with me." Her mouth dropped open. "I can't memorize all this stuff and I don't want to cause an intergalactic incident by touching my fork before the Prime Minister raises her glass, or, you know, pissing on a tree. You're coming with me as my Protocol Liaison."

Hoshi turned to T'Pol for support. "I really don't think I'm the person to do this, why don't you take the Sub-Commander?"

A small smile played around T'Pol's mouth. "I agree with the captain, Ensign Sato. You are uniquely suited to preventing this particular . . . intergalactic incident." The Sub-Commander's expression clearly added, Better you than me.

"I –" Hoshi looked from the captain to the Sub-Commander. Looking down, she muttered, "Well, I guess I'll just notify them that there will be two in the party."

"We're done here?" Archer sounded like a school boy anticipating being dismissed for summer vacation. Hoshi began to shrug, and he was out the door almost before she finished the gesture.