Disclaimer: The usual assurances to Paramount that we are all tired of but have to put in anyway as a true example of noblesse oblige. As always, this does not apply to Tia Anlor (ahn-lor), who I have sole possession of. She has appeared in several stories during her three months aboard Enterprise. This story takes place a month after 'Daasii'.
Rating: G
Tease: Archer and crew make first contact with a surprising race of humans. But are their motives more than meet the eye?
Noblesse Oblige
By JMK758
Prologue
"The planet is Beta Aragon 3, and we found out about it from the Vulcans." Admiral Forrest informed Archer from the viewscreen on the desk of his Ready Room. "Their technology is roughly similar to Earth's early 21st Century, though it is monarchial in government. They have several monarchies on the planet, but thus far we have been dealing with a Sovereign Akir. He seems to be king of the largest territory on the planet. But they have one thing that makes them unique."
"What's that?"
"The planet contains a vast abundance of dilithium." The news was welcome indeed. Dilithium is tremendously rare, and is the 'sine qua non' of warp flight. The vast energies produced by the mutual annihilations of matter and antimatter in the warp chamber, if not filtered through the complex crystalline lattices of dilithium, would produce an explosion of Enterprise that would be visible all the way to Earth – in about eight hundred and seventy five years.
"I'm surprised the Vulcans told us about it."
"They didn't, actually. A Vulcan trader named Suvlak tipped us off about them, and helped arrange contact by subspace radio. I'm sure it comes as no surprise to you that the Vulcans are not of one mind on all things." Thinking back over their varied contacts with that rather taciturn race, Archer was inclined to agree – that the Admiral had a flair for understatement.
"Thus far, negotiations have gone well, but it is high time for personal contact. Our Science Board assures me that access to the volumes of dilithium that we can get out of this will advance our warp program to almost undreamed of levels."
"How much is 'undreamed', Admiral, if I may ask?"
"Put it this way: Right now you cruise at about warp 3 point something, and when you go above warp 4.5 you have to watch the rivets in the hull. How would you like to cruise all day at warp 6, with occasional headlong rushes at warp 8?" Knowing as he did that he was speaking to the son of Henry Archer, who had spent his life trying to develop the so-named warp 5 engine and had not lived to see its launch, he knew how the news would be received.
Jonathan Archer did not bother hiding his surprise, giving the Admiral the response he knew the other had anticipated. It would not be right, after all, to let his friend down. "I trust that this Suvlak has been well paid for his information."
"He got everything he hoped for. I suspect that most of what he wanted involved the curve he threw to the Vulcan government."
"I'm sure Soval was suitably distressed."
"I – err – haven't scheduled the meeting to tell him yet." Forrest responded with mock sheepishness. "I thought I'd wait until I had the signed treaty to show him."
Archer grinned. "I'll bring it to you personally. Archer out." Turning off the screen, he stood up and left the room, stepping out onto the bridge. All his other key officers were in their various places, it being less than three hours into alpha shift. "Travis, check the Vulcan database for Beta Aragon 3." He sat down in his command chair, seeing out of the corner of his eye the carefully restrained reaction of his Science Officer, a reaction he carefully avoided responding to. "Lay in a course and engage at best speed." He touched a control on his armrest. "Trip, would you mind coming to the Bridge? I've a surprise for you."
"On my way, Cap'n."
First Contact
"Captain's Personal Log: We have been in orbit about a planet that is remarkably earthlike, though nearly a thousand light years from our own home. So Earthlike, in fact, that the inhabitants seem almost human. At least our scans have been unable to discover any distinction between them and ourselves. I wonder what a closer examination will yield."
In the half hour following the recording of this entry in his quarters, Archer had not seen much from the bridge that would change his mind. With the exception of the shape of the continents, there was no significant difference at all between this world and his. The population ringed the southern edge of a continent that ranged from the northern pole to the temperate equator. It was broken up by a generous collection of seas, lakes and rivers, but for all intents and purposes it was one land mass. The southern hemisphere was primarily water broken up by scores of islands ranging from a few to several hundred miles in diameter.
The atmosphere was well within human norm, primarily nitrogen and oxygen with a wide variety of trace gasses. But the best thing of all in the air was a wide variety of radio signals, and an equally varied collection of spaceships arriving and departing.
They had been given the frequency used by Starfleet for official communications. They already had a sufficient database of the primary language before they arrived, but Archer ordered more monitoring and updating of the Universal Translator before he ordered a contact along the frequency. "Hail them, Ensign."
"I'm getting a response. Go ahead, Captain."
"Greetings." Archer said, trying not to feel too much like a player in a 1950's sci-fi movie. This was real life, and very serious. "This is Captain Jonathan Archer, commanding the starship Enterprise, representing Starfleet Command of Earth."
He did not have to wait long. "Greetings, Captain Archer of Earth. We have been expecting you."
"Receiving visual signal on this frequency, Captain." Hoshi reported. At a nod from her Captain, Hoshi pushed a button and the image of the planet was replaced with that of a man. He seemed about early forties, though Archer mentally restrained himself from making assumptions based on human norms, no matter how 'normal' the man looked. He had a thin face, black hair brushed straight back off a high forehead, and he was wearing a black uniform jacket over black shirt, relieved only by golden ornamentation at the lapels, identical stars at each side, and golden unadorned epaulets on his shoulders.
In the moment of contact, the man had scanned each of the officers on the bridge, seemingly evaluating them and their potentials in an instant of scrutiny before focusing on Archer in the central seat. "I am Monec, Commander of the Sovereign's Personal Guard. We were told by your Admiral Forrest to expect your arrival. King Akir has been eagerly anticipating meeting you."
"We look forward to meeting him as well."
"I am informed that your landings are accomplished by a small ship. You may set down in the courtyard of our castle. I shall have a delegation to meet you. I do have one stipulation, however."
"What is that?"
"I ask for the details and specifications of yourself and all who will accompany you. I must know who I will bring into the presence of my Sovereign."
"No problem. We will transmit everything immediately."
"In that case, I anticipate your arrival." The screen switched again to a view of the blue-green planet below.
"Doesn't waste a lot of time, does he?" Malcolm observed from his station at tactical.
"I shall take that as a cue. Malcolm, Hoshi, Travis, with me. T'Pol, have Trip and Crewwoman Anlor meet us in the landing bay. Would you please see to Commander Monec's request? You have the bridge."
---
On the Shuttle Pod the crew discussed the details of their mission while Travis Mayweather piloted the small ship toward the planet. "From what we know of it," Archer explained, "the culture is almost as advanced as ours, though they have not gone beyond their own system. They were met by the Vulcans about 70 years ago. Their culture is reported to be very traditional, and their methods of doing things are, I understand, somewhat formal. We're to treat this as a First Contact, even though our worlds have communicated by radio. Above all, we want to establish good relations with these people."
"And convince them to let us mine dilithium." Trip put in.
"Yes, that is of particular importance to Starfleet." Archer grinned at the thought. "I can just hear the Council now. 'Have him make friends, but get us the crystals.'"
"Captain, thank for choosing you me this mission for." Tia Anlor said in her characteristic fractured syntax. Born and raised on Aura, normally still thinking in that language, she often had problems with English. She had the words, but unless she was careful she slipped back into Auron grammar.
"That's quite all right. You've earned it."
"Speaking of earning …" Hoshi, seated beside her, whispered quietly, "…you look good in that uniform." The young Auran looked down at herself sourly.
"First time wearing am I it." She whispered. The blue flight suit, with its lighter blue piping indicating the Sciences division, fit her well, particularly complimenting her gold complexion, but… "I do fit in it not."
"You'll get used to it." Hoshi assured her. "On away missions, we present a united front."
Tia looked at herself again, no more pleased. Though it 'fit', if that was Hoshi's view, it was a bit snug about her chest. "Feel like a spleegel." Despite herself, Hoshi burst out laughing.
"What's up?" Malcolm asked. They had heard, and studiously ignored for the most part, the women's whispered exchange, but Hoshi's surprised laughter simply could not be ignored.
"Nothing, Lieutenant. Sorry, I can't translate that." She giggled. It went back to an old conversation she had had with the golden girl, and referred to a hot meat confection one ate by squeezing it from a tubular wrapping. Trip Tucker might enjoy the analogy, but she doubted he would appreciate anyone else knowing it.
"We're coming up on the castle." Travis announced.
---
It was indeed a castle, a huge stone structure set in the middle of a sprawling town, clearly the latter having grown up around the former. The almost medieval structure, complete with pennants flying from the tops of several towers and a sprawling courtyard surrounding an inner keep, large enough to farm sufficient quantities to feed everyone inside for weeks, all enclosed within high walls of stone, seemed out of place in a technological society such as reflected in the town that it had given birth to, and likely said a great deal about the culture the Enterprise crew had come so far to make contact with. "How old would you place this at?"
"I'd say about 500 years if it's a day." Tucker answered, checking the sensor readings.
"They keep it well. It looks like it was just built last year." Malcolm said admiringly.
"And the city?" Archer wanted to know.
"Well, Cap'n, that does look like it was built last year. Modern materials all around, water distribution efficiency seems high, waste management good, air quality better than anyone in our 21st century could hope for."
"I'd say they were quite modern, with a high traditional element." Malcolm concluded.
"That fits with what Admiral Forrest could tell me."
Travis piloted the shuttle pod around the castle in a slow circle before coming back over the courtyard, and then turned the shuttle. It might have looked from the ground like he had been aligning it so the door would face the castle. Actually, the fly-by had been designed to give everyone a panoramic view of the castle, the city and all else visible before coming in for a landing. As the pod lowered to the ground almost dead center in the courtyard, activity in the enclosed space was increasing by the moment.
There was, of course, the surprise of the occupants, few of whom had been informed of the arrival of a space-going vehicle within their sanctum; but of particular interest was the phalanx of black uniformed soldiers who approached the pod. "Malcolm, you do see what I see?"
"Yes, sir." The tactical officer stared in wonder. In case the appearance of what they saw masked a subtle misdirection, such as the whip they had encountered months ago from alien invaders to Enterprise which instead threw bolts of energy, Reed scanned the approaching men carefully. "Not energy or projectile weapons, though scans show they have such devices on their persons, and plenty of them throughout the castle. Those actually are swords." He finished with a sense of wonder.
There were eleven men approaching in two files, the eleventh man leading the ranks. All were dressed in unrelieved space black uniforms, save for the gleaming silver swords which they held at 'carry' in their right hands, blades upward and touching their shoulders. Silver scabbards hung at their left hips. The sword of the man leading the contingent, who they now recognized as Monec, was trimmed in gold at pommel and guard, was still in its gold trimmed scabbard. The lines stopped dead behind their leader, whose hands were at his sides. He turned them, palms forward, as if to show that he was 'unarmed'.
"Let's go." Shaking themselves loose from their fascinated surprise, the Enterprise crew followed their Captain out of the pod.
