Chapter Two
Many of those who were born on a planet thought of space as a cold void, a challenge to be conquered. It was a place to explore and to fear, but not to live. These people weren't boomers, though, who were born in space and lived there. Boomers were the backbone of the Earth Cargo Service. The ECS Spacefarer was traveling at warp 3. It was two days out of Alpha Centauri III carrying a cargo hold of medical supplies for the capital city New Samarkind. One of the first Human colonies in the Beta Quadrant, the Earth Cargo Service had a regular bi-monthly freighter run to the colony. It was considered an easy milk run by the freighter captains. A three week trip there and three weeks back.
Until the Enterprise launched, ECS freighter ships were the only Earth vessels the Human colony saw. The Daedalus-class could reach them at warp 3 but it was considered too long a trip and somewhat dangerous. The Vulcans advised against Starfleet going too deep into space with only warp three capability. The ECS vessels were willing to take those long trips because the crews were at home in space. At warp 4.5 the Enterprise took weeks off the journey making it feasible to travel there, but the Enterprise wasn't a cargo service.
"Hey, Bob, let New Samarkind know that we are running on schedule," said Captain Dennis Worth to his comm officer.
The Bridge of the Spacefarer bore little resemblance to a Starfleet Starship. It had a lived in quality and was run with an easy hand.
"Sure, Captain," came the response.
"Milly is having a birthday party for Janna in cargo hold 2," said Anna Worth, first officer and wife of Dennis. "Why don't you drop by and have some cake?"
Dennis Worth yawned. The idea of having a nice piece of cake and cup of coffee appealed to him. He looked over at his wife.
"I think I will," he said.
He started to walk to the door to leave the Bridge when he was stopped by his sensor officer.
"Dennis, I just picked up a strange reading. It flashed and then disappeared," said Holly Mann.
"What do you think it was…"
He never finished the sentence, as the ECS Spacefarer hit a cloaked Romulan mine. The first mine destroyed the Bridge and sent the freighter into a second mine which turned the rest of the ship in debris.
STSTST
The Columbia along with the Discovery slowed to one quarter impulse as they approached the section of space where the Spacefarer was destroyed. Both starships sensors picked up the debris field, the remains of a ship and the people who lived on it. Once the Spacefarer didn't show up at New Samarkind, it was reported missing. With tensions high over the potential for a coming war, Starfleet deployed two of the NX to search for it. They found the debris and one of the cloaked Romulan mines, which kept cloaking and un-cloaking due to a malfunction.
Captain Hernandez turned to her comm officer.
"Hail, the Discovery," she said.
The Captain Edward Paris appeared on the main view screen. He was a man in his forties with brownish red hair and a roguish smile.
"Erica," he said.
"Edward. It appears that we are in front of a Romulan minefield that destroyed the Spacefarer," she said.
"I can see that. Poor bastards didn't have a chance with cloaked mines," he sighed.
"The Romulans had to know that ECS freighters used this sector of space as a damned route to Alpha Centauri," she seethed.
"If it was up to me I'd back off to maximum range then fire some torpedoes into the minefield exploding the damn things," Paris stated.
"We might end up doing that, Edward, but first we should capture the malfunctioning mine and try to learn as much about these mines as we can," she said.
Paris smiled, "That's why you get the big bucks, Erica. Do you want to send a shuttle to pick it up or should I?"
"I'll send a shuttle out to capture it," she said.
"Whatever help you need, let me know. We'll be sitting right here," he said. "Paris, out."
The main view screen returned to a view of the cloaking and de-cloaking mine.
"XO," she spoke up after a minute of thought.
"Yes, sir," snapped Lieutenant Commander Styles.
Lieutenant Commander Hal Styles was a good XO, but Erica Hernandez could have done without the constant uptight military style.
"Who is our best pilot?"
Styles looked at her with expression that she was slightly insane, as the thought of bringing a live mine on board the ship didn't appeal to him.
STSTST
Trip sat in his office in Starfleet Headquarters reviewing reports on some of his handiwork. The sixty Intrepid-Class ships had been retrofitted and upgraded into now warp 4.5 capable frigates and now the Daedalus-Class ships were now being pulled out of service for their upgrades and retrofitting. Also, the combined 40 Discovery-Class and Poseidon-Class starships had been converted to warp 3 capable border cutters. He didn't know how any of these ships were going to be deployed, though he knew that the ECS was calling for escorts for some of their freighters. His comm buzzed.
He fingered the comm button, "Tucker."
"Captain Tucker, Admiral Jefferies wants to know if you have reviewed the proposal for a maintenance yard on Proxima?" asked Commander Michele Li, who was one of Jefferies aides.
"Let the Admiral know I read the proposal and I endorse the proposal, but I think we should also have maintenance facilities on one or two of the new starbases being built by the Corp of Engineers," he offered.
"I'll make a note of that and let know, Captain. Li, out," she said then broke off the connection.
Trip smiled. He had become used to Li's abruptness which could be mistaken for rudeness. His own assistant, Ensign Alexander Balanchine, wasn't known as the friendliest person around. Trip chalked it up to the fact that they worked for busy people who had little free time. His comm buzzed again. Trip sighed. He'd sent Balanchine to R&D to check on a few things for him, so he had to answer his own comm. He fingered the comm button again.
"Tucker," he said in a tone of extreme exasperation.
"Trip, you sound like a busy man," said Archer with a chuckle.
"Cap'n, this is unexpected to hear from you," he smiled then leaned back in his chair.
He placed his PADD on his desk next to his figure of the Wolfman and Frankenstein.
"How are you, Jon?" he asked.
"Good, Trip. It appears that I'm going to be on Earth for a month or so because the Enterprise is being called in for upgrades. I thought I might have dinner with an old friend," Archer said.
"I'd love that. Tell me when and where," replied Trip.
"I promise Shran Chinese food and he'd like to see you, too. How about Chinatown, Hunan Kitchen, tonight at 1700?" he asked.
"I'll have my schedule cleared, Jon," said Trip.
He heard laughter on the other end of the comm.
"You have a schedule, Trip. I'd forgotten that riding a desk is ball busting work," said Archer.
"You have no idea, Jon, no idea."
"Malcolm will be coming along, also. For some reason he misses you," Archer teased.
"Damn, I miss Mal, too. I haven't talked to him since I left the Enterprise. They've been keeping me busy here," Trip said.
"Well then tonight at 1700 you get to relax with friends," he said. "It will be good to see you, Trip."
"Same here, Cap'n."
STSTST
T'Pol stood at the gate of the Vulcan Compound in Sausalito with her duffle bag over her shoulder waiting to be allowed onto the compound. Since Enterprise going to be in space dock for upgrades for an extended period, she decided to spend her time at the Vulcan compound in meditation. Part of her wanted to seek out Captain Tucker and speak to him, but the Enterprise being in space dock to have defensive shields, weapons upgrades, and engine modifications to allow a max of warp 7 proved to her that Trip was busy with important work.
"Commander T'Pol," the Vulcan guard finally returned to her, "Ambassador V'Lar would like for you to have dinner with her tonight in her quarters."
"Tell the ambassador, that I will attend her quarters for dinner," said T'Pol.
"Temporary quarters have been set up for you in the alien quarters," he said. "Will you need an escort to that section of the compound?"
Some Human stayed on the compound for retreats and to learn Vulcan meditation. Her being place with Humans was meant as an insult, though she didn't take it as an insult. She had spent far too much time with Humans to be insulted by the presence. It also was true that she was in Human terms in love with a Human.
"I do not need an escort," she replied coldly.
STSTST
Trip showed up at the restaurant in jeans and a sweater shirt. He immediately noticed Mal, Jon, and Shran in their civilian clothes seated at a table. Walking past the hostess, he smiled and pointed to the table then joined them.
"Trip," smiled Jon.
"Captain Tucker," Malcolm said.
"I'm Trip tonight, Mal. Don't be all professional on me just because we haven't seen each other for a while."
"Good to see you, Trip," said Mal.
"Pinkskin Tucker," Shran spoke up. "I hear you are helping to build a fighting fleet for Earth."
"I'm trying," said Trip. "What are you up to, Shran?"
"I am the Andorian military liaison which means I am no one. I have requested time on one of your ships, though," said Shran.
"He misses space," smiled Jon.
"It is part of me. I started as a lowly crewman and worked my way up to commander in the Imperial Guard. Being in space is part of me," he said.
"Let's see if we can get you into space then," said Jon.
"How about you, Captain Tucker?" asked Shran.
"I sort of miss space, too, Shran," he admitted.
"Then we must order a good stiff drink and toast a return to space for both of us," said Shran.
"I'm up for that," smiled Trip.
STSTST
T'Pol arrived at V'Lar's apartment with a bottle of mineral water. She buzzed the door. In her Vulcan robes, V'Lar answered it. T'Pol handed her the water.
"You have taken on the Earth custom of bringing a gift when invited to dinner," said V'Lar.
"You are against the custom?" asked T'Pol.
"No, T'Pol, I like the custom. I like many Earth customs. Please enter," she said.
She motioned to T'Pol to enter her apartment. T'Pol scanned the common room of the apartment. Almost as if to prove that she was an unusual Vulcan, V'Lar had several items that a Vulcan would eschew. On her wall she had Earth artwork. If T'Pol was not mistaken there was a lithograph of a Picasso from his blue period and Van Gogh's Sun Flowers. Also, there was a rocking chair to go along with the ottoman-like seating that Vulcans preferred.
"Take a seat, T'Pol. Dinner is stasis and takes only a few minutes to heat up. We are having risotto and a salad," V'Lar informed her.
"You like Human food?" asked T'Pol, as she sat down.
"I enjoy some of the flavors. They have some dishes which are not subtle in their seasoning, yet I find them enjoyable," she said. "You aren't going to lecture me on finding pleasure in what I eat, are you?"
T'Pol raised her right eyebrow and said, "I like pecan pie. It is a dessert with little virtually no nutritional advantage."
"I must try pecan pie," said V'Lar with a ghost of a smile. "Did Captain Tucker introduce you to pecan pie?"
"Yes," she answered.
"You know T'Pol that there are many in the new government who would cast you out for mating with a Human. Fortunately, they are not the majority. T'Pau agrees with me that your bond with Captain Tucker is fortuitous for Vulcan," said V'Lar.
"I find it disquieting that you speak of my relationship with Captain Tucker. It is personal and private and should be respected," said T'Pol.
"It is also groundbreaking and needs to be monitored. If IDIC is a philosophy that Vulcans can truly live by, your relationship needs to succeed," she expressed. "Have you spoken to Captain Tucker about the bond?"
"No," T'Pol answered uncomfortably.
"May I ask why?"
T'Pol looked inside of herself for balance and calm.
"I do not believe it is any concern of yours," said T'Pol.
V'Lar sat in the rocking chair and started rocking. After a few moments of silence and thought, she spoke.
"Vulcan needs Earth. We are on the verge of great upheaval and I believe that Humanity handles the chaos of war better than Vulcans. We look to bring logic and hold onto our ways, while Humans embrace the anarchy of war and allow for something new to be born from it. The paradigm is shifting. T'Pol, you can help Vulcan in this shift," said V'Lar.
"By sharing my relationship with the High Council?" she asked V'Lar.
"No, by giving your relationship with Captain Tucker a chance to succeed," said V'Lar. "I support, T'Pol. Trust me."
"I have decided to wait to speak to him about the bond because he is imperative to Starfleet's construction of a fleet. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one," she said.
"I agree," V'Lar nodded her head. "You're logic is true."
T'Pol looked at V'Lar, whose expression softened.
"Do not burden your mate until he can handle it," she said. "But be careful, T'Pol, we Vulcans can sacrifice our needs to our logic."
STSTST
"Hess tells me that Kelby does things arse about face compared to you," chuckled Malcolm then he looked at Archer, who was trying not to laugh. "You know that, Captain."
Archer just shrugged but he wouldn't open his mouth.
Trip took another sip of his scotch.
"Please tell me he hasn't mucked up my engines," Trip begged.
"Malcolm, I think we can stop talking shop," Archer warned.
"No, no, Archer, Tucker needs to know about his engines," goaded Shran.
Archer rolled his eyes and waited.
"You got the engines to a max of warp 5.5," said Malcolm. "Kelby tops the engine out at warp 5.2."
"I need to talk to Hess," Trip growled.
"I knew would be brassed off," smiled Malcolm, who finished off his scotch.
"Damn," Archer said looking at his chronometer, "I have a meeting with the brass in the morning. I think they want to talk about some site."
"You're talking about your ability to see with the Admirals," said Malcolm.
"Not sight, Malcolm, but site," laughed Archer.
"Mal, I think you're drunk."
"I think you're right, Trip," replied Malcolm.
Shran joined Archer in laughing. Once they calmed down, Trip looked at Archer.
"I think the brass wants you opinion on a maintenance site at Proxima," said Trip. "I know Admiral Roddenberry and Fleet Admiral Beckett value your opinion. Admiral Jefferies has endorsed a proposal for one."
"And you?" asked Archer.
"I endorsed it, too."
Archer smiled. He picked up his drink and drained it.
"Shran, I promised Jhamel not to keep you out too late," Archer said slapping the Andorian on the back.
Trip looked over at Malcolm and grinned, "I guess you're responsibility."
"I'm not that drunk," said Malcolm.
"You're not that sober, either," smirked Trip. "How about we go back to my place? I don't have to be in until the afternoon."
"Sounds like flat mate for the night."
STSTST
The squadron of cloaked Romulan Birds of Prey entered the Sol system. The six ships slipped into the system. Each Bird of Prey had a target: Jupiter Station, Mars shipyard, Mars orbiting shipyard, Cochrane Facility in Bozeman, Montana, Starfleet Command, and EU Senate in Paris. The ships broke formation and heading into their positions. The countdown had begun.
Commander Philip Boyce liked the feel of his command chair. He liked his ship, the Tiger Shark, also, especially with its new capabilities. Boyce was tasked with leading the training squadron of 18 ships. Each ship was commanded by either a commander or a lieutenant commander with Boyce having the most experience.
"Darby, put me on fleet wide," he said.
"You are on, sir," said Darby.
"Our next training scenario is an attack on Earth," he spoke up knowing his voice was now broadcasting to all ships in the training squadron. "I want the Denmark, Wong Fie Hung, Mifune, and Atlas to take up defensive stance of Earth. The Montana, Dover, Lang, Poseidon, Bengali, and Burma to act as rovers. The Raven, Mountbatten, White Horse, and Juno to take head out to Jupiter Station. You'll be the attacking force. I lead the Milky Way, Holland, and the Berlin against the attacking force. Break up into groups."
They broke their formation to take their new positions. Boyce sat back in the command chair.
"Darby, put fleet wide on standby," he said.
"Aye, sir," replied Darby.
"I want to be able to give instructions. This is a training squadron."
"Sir," Lieutenant 1st Class Omar Al Sistani, the XO, "should I take us to Tactical Alert?"
Boyce was about to give his answer when a Romulan Bird of Prey de-cloaked. His throat went dry and his stomach twisted into a knot, but he knew what needed to be done.
"Give me fleet wide," Boyce yelled.
"Shields up, make weapons hot. Battle Stations!" yelled Al Sistani.
"You have the fleet, sir," said Darby.
"Do not let these bastards hit their targets. Repeat, at any cost do not let these bastards hit their targets," ordered Boyce.
"Fire, cannons," ordered Al Sistani.
The opening salvos of the Romulan War had been fire.