Title: "2084" 1 Author: Quills Contact: the_quill_pen@yahoo.com Series: ENT Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star trek and I derive no financial gain from this story. Codes: T/Tu angst, drama, romance, humor, action/adventure Summary: This is a "Somewhere in Time" type story. It takes place in the Enterprise universe as seen on TV, but about 70 years before Enterprise.

'Trip' Tucker rolled over in his bed. He had a bad night and he had a feeling his morning wasn't going to be much better. His Captain had handed him tough assignments before. He was used to the challenge. Truth be told, that's what he joined up for...that and the excitement. But this latest assignment wasn't a challenge...it was plain frustrating. Not because of the work. He was used to that. it was all part of the job...but working with the Vulcan...she was...insufferable and an all around pain in the ass!

He sat up yawning. He had been doing his job a long time before she came along. He didn't need her help...he didn't want it. Unfortunately, it wasn't his call. His Captain paired them together and said they had to work through the assignment. 'Trip' Tucker didn't like it, but the quicker they got the job done...the quicker the Vulcan would be out of his hair.

He stood up and worked the kinks out of his back as he stretched. He grabbed a shirt and pants off the chair and put them on. Leaning over to his night stand, he picked up a cigarette. Lighting it he took a long drag as he walked over to the window. Drawing the curtains open, he allowed the light to fill the cabin. He took another drag on the cigarette and closed his eyes. The Sun felt good as the

morning rays sprayed through the window.

He walked over to the his cabin door, opening it he walked up the stairs and outside to the deck. Looked out across the marina he saw a vista of ships of all shapes and sizes...schooners..sailboats yachts and of course...house boats...like his. On the pier walkway was a rolled up bundle of papers. Walking down the plank he leaned down and picked it up. It was the morning edition, half soaked as usual. The paper delivery man never failed to drop the paper close to the pier edge so that it that it was soaked by the morning tide splashing up against the boat.

"Trip" Tucker unfolded the wet paper in his hands and read the headline out loud.

"Trials to begin for first sustained warp ship - Vulcan's to oversee"

"Humph, haven't been here 30 years and they're already runnin' things," he scowled shaking his head.

Just then, he looked up; he had heard someone coming down the adjacent walkway. The owner of the footsteps was now rounding the corner and heading up his own walkway. He already knew who it was. He had to give her one thing...she was punctual...disgustingly so.

"Mornin', Sub Commander," said 'Trip' Tucker to the woman who came up the walkway.

"Sergeant Tucker," she said as she nodded slightly. "You should be dressed and ready to go."

He eyed her with annoyance. "Did you sleep in that uniform?" he asked sarcastically noting that it was the same design she had worn last night and the day before and the day before that, but there wasn't a wrinkle to be seen. Not that there was much to wrinkle. Her form fitting uniform certainly didn't go to any great lengths to hide her....that was for certain.

"No," she responded simply.

He turned shaking his head. "Come on aboard...let me grab a shirt and we'll roll," he said as he headed towards the bedroom. "We need to stop by the precinct. I wanna check on a couple possible avenues."

"Very well," she said as she boarded the floating domicile hesitantly...stopping for a brief moment as she eyed the letters painted across the aft of the boat...."ENTERPRISE". What these humans won't give names she thought ruefully. She had not been here before and after a few moments she was quite content not to return. Aside from the overwhelming smell which was typical of most of his species, Sgt 'Trip' Tucker kept one of the most slovenly domiciles she had ever seen. She suspected that a Klingon targ would be hard pressed to set foot in the Sgt's apartment.

"Any news?" he called out from the bedroom.

"No," she responded in a clipped tone. "However, we have a number of possible leads, attained last night, that we must investigate with the utmost urgency. We have less than two days before his next victim."

Sergeant Tucker walked out of the bedroom as he finished buttoning his shirt. "Yeah T'Pol," he told her not trying to hide his irritation. "I know."

He picked up his gold shield and fastened it to his belt. C. Tucker, Sergeant, Miami Metropolitan Police Department, badge #891701

"I don't need you to remind me," he spat as he picked up his service weapon.

She looked at him curiously for a moment. She doubted she would ever understand these humans, but she was quite sure this one had taken offense at her statement.

"It was not my intention to cause derision Sergeant," she told him. "I am merely pointing out that our time is limited."

"Yeah...well I don't need you to remind me about how little time we got left," he said as he held his weapon between them and slapped a fully charged cartridge into it. "Lets get somethin' straight sub commander, I got no great love workin' with ya. So the sooner we catch this son of a bitch, the sooner you and he can go the hell back too Vulcan!"

He looked at her hard for a moment. She showed no sign of faltering, but he could have sworn he saw a slight temblor in her face. He walked past her and out the main door leaving her standing alone in the cabin. T'Pol of Vulcan did not wish to be here anymore than the human wanted her here...but he was correct...they had a job to do and the sooner they caught the man she had pursued all the way from Vulcan...the sooner the humans would be safe from this rarest of Vulcan "predators".

to be continued...