Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, don't make money off 'em.
Notes: Starting this chapter, the story is different. Previous readers might recognize a scene that was previously in a different Switcheroo story.
Rating:T
Pairings: eventual R/S and TnT
Please R&R.
Three
The Enterprise bridge was a hive of activity. Voices floated from multiple comm circuits as people checked, double-checked and triple-checked procedures. Commander Travis Mayweather sat in the center seat and listened to it all:
"Weapons systems check: hull polarization." "Normal." "Armory Status?" "Code Yellow."
"...I'm still waiting on those last batches of gelpacks. We need everything accounted for...I don't want to hand over an unprepared Sickbay to Doctor Reed. Yes, this is Lieutenant Cutler again. Cargo Bay Two? Why didn't anyone tell me? I'm on my way down."
"Sorry, but those UT modules are going to have to be installed in-transit. I think Lieutenant Commander Archer has a few modifications he wants to do on his own..."
"Energy flow to the impulse engines are on stand-by. It appears to be working as the schematics showed. As soon as we clear the Sol system, there are a few upgrades I want to implement..."
Travis chuckled at Chief Engineer Phlox's last remark. He could imagine the groans of his Engineering crew. They'd spent the better part of a week going over every connection and circuit to the impulse engines. Phlox enjoyed "implementing" his new ideas; sometimes they worked, sometimes they didn't. It seemed the Denobulan channeled his enthusiasm into improvements even before the original system tested green.
He glanced over his shoulder at Lieutenant Commander Trip Tucker. The new Armory Officer went down his list with efficiency, checking with his team in the Armory. Tucker caught Travis's scrutiny and gave the First Officer a quirky grin. Although he'd only been on board for a day and a half, he'd thrown himself into his new duties with almost reckless abandon.
"All set, Lieutenant Commander?" Travis asked him.
"All set, Commander Mayweather," Trip answered and gave Travis a thumbs-up. Travis returned it just as the lift doors behind him hissed open. The entire Bridge crew paused and snapped to attention as Captain Sato walked out of the lift, followed by Lieutenant Commander Archer. Travis swiveled around in his chair and stood up.
"Cap'n on the bridge," announced Trip.
"At ease, people," Hoshi said. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"
"Yes, ma'am!" came the excited response from all sides. Jonathan and Trip exchanged huge grins; Travis had heard the two knew each other before this assignment and there was already a warm rapport between the two. Jonathan Archer was taller than Travis was and at least ten years older. He wondered how Hoshi had convinced him to join the crew at such short notice.
"Everyone, I'd like to introduce our new Communications Officer, Lieutenant Commander Jonathan Archer." Hoshi glanced sideways at Jon, who nodded in response. "Commander Archer, man your station, please."
"Yes, Captain," Jon said and strode across the bridge to the comm station. The crewman there slid out of the seat. He was about to leave when Jon motioned for him to stay. "I might need your assistance, Crewman. Please stay."
The crewman had a surprised expression, but he replied, "Yes, sir."
Hoshi eased into the command chair as Travis assumed the science station on the upper deck. She glanced at the chronometer; it showed 0:10. Ten minutes until launch.
"All departments, final check," she said. "Sciences?"
"On station," Travis answered.
"Armory?"
"All ready here." That came from Trip.
"Engineering?"
"Ready, Captain," replied Chief Engineer Phlox through the comm.
"Helm/Navigation?"
Ensign Dougherty, the Beta shift helmsman, nodded in response. "Ready, ma'am."
"Communications?"
"All ready," Jon replied.
"Medical?"
The voice of Lieutenant Elizabeth Cutler echoed on the speaker. "We're ready as we'll be, Captain."
Hoshi went down the rest of the list and every station reported their status. At the end, she nodded at Jon to open the channel to Spacedock. "Spacedock, this is Enterprise. Ship's status ready."
The tinny voice answered, "Enterprise, Spacedock acknowledges. Status green for launch, repeat status green. All's a go."
Hoshi took a deep breath and exchanged looks with all of her bridge crew. She looked at Travis, who smiled in reassurance. There was a look of excitement in her eyes that belied the confidence in her face, mixed with eagerness and fear. He knew he had the same expression on his own face.
"May the wind be at our backs, ladies and gentlemen," Hoshi said. She nodded once, then said, "Controller, permission to leave Spacedock."
"Permission granted, Enterprise. Good luck, Captain Sato."
"Thank you, Spacedock Control. Enterprise, out." Hoshi nodded at the helmsman. "Take us out, Ensign Dougherty."
Dougherty grinned and answered, "Yes, ma'am."
Cheers and applause thundered over Spacedock as Enterprise sailed clear of Spacedock. Construction workers in EVA suits waved as the starship went by them. In the observation room, Admiral Max Forrest clapped his hands in grateful relief. Hoshi Sato had achieved the impossible and had convinced Jonathan Archer to sign on as her communications officer. He glanced at Ambassador Soval. The Vulcan's face was as impassive as ever. Forrest wondered how Soval was feeling after losing such a talented diplomat to Starfleet. Soval had insisted on attending the launch ceremony; in fact, he had brought Vulcan's respects and congratulations. Forrest suspected that he was proud of Archer's appointment, but of course, Soval would never admit it aloud.
The admiral drew his attention to the man who stood alone at the viewport with his hand on the cold duraglass. Captain Matthew Hayes gazed out as the Enterprise pulled away from Spacedock and Earth. Forrest sighed inwardly. Hayes was a good man and a good commanding officer, but he had one weakness and that was Hoshi Sato. Forrest was glad the two were on different ships, for Hayes had to learn to let her go.
If anything ever happens to her, it would tear him apart, Forrest thought, not unkindly. And if Hoshi ever found anyone else to love, he would be devastated. Good that she's apart from him for a while. They need that separation. If it's meant to be, it'll happen. If not, better he finds out now than later.
Forrest thought he heard Hayes whisper, "Fair journey, Hoshi."
Enterprise headed towards Vulcan at a steady Warp 2. Hoshi called a meeting of all available senior staff in her Ready Room. She greeted each person as they entered the Ready Room: Travis, Trip, Jon and Phlox. Lieutenant Liz Cutler filled in for Doctor Malcolm Reed and Ensign D'Agostino for Lieutenant T'Pol, since both Reed and T'Pol were still on Vulcan.
"Our original mission was to join both Columbia and the Vulcan High Command's ships for joint training maneuvers in the Epsilon Eridani system. With the mix-up in crew rosters, it means that Columbia will be significantly delayed because Captain Hayes needs to divert to Altair to pick up his remaining crew. Our new orders are to escort a Vulcan archaeological team to the Beta Polaris system. Doctor T'Marui will be heading that mission, but she has requested Commander Mayweather's assistance."
Travis glanced at her in surprise. "Doctor T'Marui is one of their leading archaeologists, Captain. I'm a little surprised she would ask for our help."
"I don't know all the details, but apparently Beta Polaris might be the site of one of their earliest colonies. The Vulcan Science Academy recently received permission to excavate several sites there." Hoshi grinned at Jon. "If their estimates are correct, we might be dealing with a language that's even older than Old High Vulcan."
Phlox's smile was wide, even for a Denobulan. "Just say the word, Captain, and Enterprise will take you wherever you need to go."
"Thank you, Commander Phlox." She nodded at Trip. "Security's a priority, since Beta Polaris is close to our current border. We don't know what lies beyond that system..yet. The Security Ministry wants to coordinate with you, Lieutenant Commander Tucker."
"Sure. Just one thing, Cap'n. Why are the Vulcans so eager to cooperate with us?" Trip's voice held only curiosity, no anger. "I don't ever recall 'em wantin' Starfleet so close to one of their projects."
"Let's just say they want to show a spirit of cooperation," Hoshi replied. "I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt, Trip." A sharp whine interrupted her and she pressed the communications button. "Sato."
"Incoming message for you, Captain," replied Ensign Murdo, Jon's second-in-command. "It's from Shi'Kahr, Vulcan. Priority One from Doctor T'Les."
Travis exchanged frowns with Trip. Doctor T'Les was the head of the Science Academy, so the message was probably about their upcoming mission. Are they gonna change our mission parameters again, Travis wondered. This is getting old.
"I'll take it in here, Ensign Murdo." Hoshi glanced around the table one last time. "We're due to arrive at Vulcan in two days and I want us to be prepared for anything. Coordinate shifts within your departments and if there's any change in our mission, I'll let you all know. Dismissed. Commander Mayweather, please stay."
The Ready Room was quickly empty as the others hurried to their stations. Travis glanced at Hoshi as she accepted the call. The face of Doctor T'Les appeared on the screen. She gazed at Hoshi, then at Travis.
"Captain Sato and Commander Mayweather, I presume?" T'Les asked without any introduction.
Hoshi bowed her head. "Yes, Doctor T'Les. How may we help you?"
T'Les's face showed no emotion, but her eyes scrutinized Hoshi carefully. "There have been some...developments in our situation," she said. "Will it be possible for you to come any sooner than two days?"
Travis frowned. "If we increase speed to warp four point five, we can reach Vulcan in about a day, but we haven't been that fast before, even in the simulations."
"Well, there's a first time for everything, Commander," Hoshi replied. She turned back to the screen and said, "We'll do our best to get there as soon as possible. May I ask what the problem is?"
T'Les shook her head and the cold look in her eyes deepened. Hoshi had the impression that T'Les's anger wasn't directed at her, but at someone else. Then Hoshi remembered: T'Les was the mother of her new helmswoman, Lieutenant T'Pol. Had something happened to her daughter?
"It is rather complicated to explain, Captain. I would rather meet you in person and discuss it then."
"Understood. We'll talk when we arrive."
"Live long and prosper, Captain. Commander." And with that, T'Les's image vanished.
Hoshi and Travis gazed at each other. "The plot thickens," Travis mused.
"I only hope we find out what's going on," Hoshi murmured, "that has T'Les so worried."
Doctor Malcolm Reed sighed as he checked on his last patient. Svoren was over two-hundred and thirty years old, but the stubborn Vulcan was determined to last another two-hundred and thirty. Unfortunately, the man's internal systems were shutting down. He would be lucky to see another night, much less another year. Malcolm had become rather fond of the gruff, no-nonsense Vulcan in the month he'd been in Malcolm's care.
"Tell me, Doctor, do you have a mate?"
"What?" he glanced up from writing Svoren's vital signs on his PADD. "Excuse me?"
Svoren's amber-gold eyes twinkled under the medical bay's lights. The wrinkles on his face deepened in silent humor, but the gruff tone belied his attempts to hide his mirth. "Do not be impertinent with me, young man. You heard what I asked you. I expect an answer."
Malcolm shrugged as he entered the data into the Medical Academy's main computer. He wasn't going to be baited by the old man. "No, sir, I don't have a mate. Humans don't bond in childhood like Vulcans do."
"I can imagine the perfect mate for you: stubborn, exacting, dedicated and efficient."
He chuckled and checked the fluid levels in the IV bag. So, the old man was wheedling him again. "I assume your mate was the same kind, eh?"
Svoren's smile lit up his face. Advanced age had eroded his control over his emotions. He chattered with the ease of a man long comfortable around strangers. "Take my advice, Doctor: females, whether they are Vulcan or Human, believe they have the upper hand. Males allow it for the sake of their sanity."
A corner of Malcolm's mouth turned up in a smirk. "I doubt T'Para would have agreed with your saying that."
"T'Para would have been the first to agree with me."
"No wonder she left you. Twice."
"But she came back to me." Svoren's voice was suddenly soft. "She did come back to me. If it is meant to be, Doctor, they will come back."
Malcolm glanced sharply at the readings on the panel above the bed. The indicators were definitely lower than they had been that morning. Not long now, he thought sadly. Svoren's slipping further and further away. At the very least, I can make him comfortable. Svoren had fallen into one of his dozes; Malcolm drew the covers more securely around the Vulcan and left him alone.
He headed for the ward on the first floor. It had been a busy day. Not only was he in charge of Svoren's case, but there were five more patients under his watch. T'Rien was recovering from a several broken ribs when an anti-grav car's generator failed and had caught her underneath it. Selnek, a lad of barely ten, had passed his kahs-wan, the Rite of Passage...just barely. Srelak had suffered burns when an automatic sprayer in one of the greenhouses went off and caught him in the face. And the twins, T'Pru and T'Praya...
He slipped quietly into the children's room and was glad to see both girls were asleep. As usual, they were holding hands across their beds. Malcolm had insisted that they not be separated; it was logical for the girls to aid each other in their healing trances. Their extraordinary abilities in that area would cut down their time spent at the Medical Academy. It only worked, though, when they girls were in close proximity to each other. Even the most stubborn Vulcan doctors could see the logic in his argument.
"You will miss them when you leave."
The quiet voice at the doorway startled him. He saw Doctor T'Vau standing there; the head of the Medical Academy watched him with a look of sympathy. He nodded, for it was impossible to lie to a Healer with her level of ESP. "Yes, I will, but I know they are in good hands. They will heal and live long lives."
T'Vau raised her eyebrows. "Is this a professional opinion or is this a...feeling?"
It was Malcolm's turn to raise his eyebrows. She was the only one who asked him that question; others discounted "feelings" as illogical, gut feeling or otherwise. "A little of both, I suppose."
"Ah." T'Vau nodded in satisfaction. "I bring you a message from Ambassador Soval. The Enterprise will be in orbit in eight point two hours. I understand you are already prepared for the transfer."
"I have briefed Doctor Stronek about my current patients and their care." A worried frown creased his forehead. "They're early. Is there a problem?"
"A change of orders from Starfleet. It is all explained here," she replied, handing him a PADD. "It is imperative that you familiarize yourself with the details as quickly as possible."
"I'll do that. Thank you, T'Vau."
She nodded, then she took a step back and gave him the Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper, Malcolm Reed. May your journey be eventful."
He returned the salute. "Likewise, T'Vau. Thank you for everything."
A slight smile crossed her lips, then she left him. Malcolm read the message from Soval, his face growing more impassive as he scrolled down the page. He felt a definite sense of unease about Enterprise's first mission, but if T'Vau had asked him why, he couldn't give her an answer.
He'd learned to trust his intuition. It had saved his life and the lives of his patients.
He stuffed the PADD in the pocket of his lab coat, then looked over at the sleeping girls. His eyes softened as he went over to them and brushed a lock of hair off T'Pru's face, and then off T'Praya's. Yes, they would survive and thrive, but it was a pity he wouldn't see them again.
"Live long and prosper, little ones," he whispered. "Take care of each other." Then he turned and walked away from the children's ward.
Unknown to him, Lieutenant T'Pol stood at the end of the hall and watched him go. MalcolmReed felt his emotions deeply, so deeply that his automatic control was a matter of survival for him on Vulcan. Nevertheless, the depth of those emotions astounded her, especially when he thought no one could see.
"He cares much for his patients does he not?"
T'Pol shook her head at her mother's quiet approach. T'Les was one of the few people who understood Reed's inner struggle. "Malcolm is a good doctor, but he cannot heal everyone and cure everything. It is within his nature to protect those he cares for most."
T'Les nodded solemnly. "Yes, he does. It is a good trait to have for a doctor, but it can also destroy him if he allows it."
She saw reluctance in T'Les's eyes and wondered about it. It wasn't like her mother to talk around a subject. "Mother, what troubles you?"
T'Les sighed and replied, "T'Pol, Koss called this morning. He wanted to speak with you, but I told him you were in a meeting. I cannot delay him much longer, my daughter. You must speak with him."
T'Pol flinched as if T'Les had hit her. "I thought we had agreed to delay any further negotiation on this, Mother. I cannot afford to stay on Vulcan for a year after we marry---"
"So I told him and his father," she interrupted. "They both know that circumstances have changed, that you will be far from home for an extended period of time. They wish to...renegotiate."
"I have nothing to say to them."
T'Les raised her hand. "I understand your wishes on the matter, but—"
"Mother!" she said through gritted teeth.
"They insisted. Please, T'Pol, tell them again, for they refuse to acknowledge anything I say."
I cannot believe this. Why now? Her anger rose in her throat, but she forced it down. "Very well, Mother, but only because you have requested it of me."
The family compound was of modest size for one of T'Les's social standing. The main house stood in the middle of the square, positioned north-south to take advantage of the sun. Polarized windows gave the building a sense of light and airiness. Special solar panels collected the heat of the day and used it to warm the occupants against the chill of the desert night. The other buildings followed a similar plan: T'Les's offices, the labs, the hydroponic gardens, and the guest houses.
Of course, she could have expanded it at any time she wished, but T'Les logically pointed out that since neither she nor her daughter were there for extended periods of time, what was the purpose of doing so? As a result, the walled villa on the outskirts of Shi'Kahr was artfully hidden from view; not many knew of its location.
T'Pol sat in the garden, by her favorite fountain, and listened to the gurgle of the water. She wore her favorite gown of royal purple, with her long blonde hair wound in a crown about her head, with the rest of it free on her shoulders. A betrothed—or married—woman usually wore her hair up, or cut it short. T'Pol had found a suitable compromise that both satisfied Vulcan tradition and Starfleet regulations.
She heard the soft footfalls of Koss before she saw him, but didn't raise her eyes immediately to meet his. Instead, she felt his mental probe, a tickle deep within her brain, as he tried to gauge her mental state at this moment. Not only did it annoy her, it was completely against the mind-meld protocols. She felt his shock as he met her mental shields; living for three months among the priestesses of Mount Seleya had strengthened them considerably.
"T'Pol," he finally said, as he withdrew his probe without a word or thought of apology. "It is agreeable to see you."
"And you," she answered. She did not stand, as was proper, but added, "Forgive me, but this day has been trying in body and spirit. I have not meditated or rested properly since my arrival back in ShiKahr."
"Your mother told me that you were in meetings all day. I can understand why you are so fatigued." Koss quickly moved to her side and sat next to her. He offered two fingers in the traditional greeting; she met them. From what she had heard, the gesture was supposed to be one of comfort and warmth, an assertion of the mating bond.
She felt nothing but a cool sense of being appraised, much like a valuable artifact under the buyer's eye. It took her an effort not to recoil from the second intrusion, for Koss would sense it and question.
"You wish to renegotiate the marriage contract?" she asked, taking the initiative.
His mouth quirked in a non-smile. "The news of your new assignment on the Earth ship has had some unexpected effects on the High Command, T'Pol. Father realizes how important it is that you remain at your post. You will be the only Vulcan on Enterprise; the High Command sees that."
"And what do they require of me this time?"
He chuckled, low in his throat. "We will delay the wedding as long as we need to, as long as you remain on board Enterprise. You and your mother are correct; you cannot afford to be on Vulcan for the required year after marriage, not now."
She raised her eyebrows. "But it will come at a price."
He pressed his lips together. "Do you think so low of me and my father?"
"Soultek is a military man, unlike yourself," T'Pol pointed out, "and for every victory, there is a price to be paid."
Koss's eyes flashed. "My father has chosen wisely, it seems."
She inclined her head. "What does Soultek want in return for my compliance?"
"We have agreed to double the bride payments for the duration of your duty," he said flatly, "but in turn, you will have to provide the High Command with intelligence of every mission, every ally and enemy you encounter. You will provide information on the Humans, so we can anticipate their reactions to certain...events."
She was silent as she thought, I should have known. They believe they have me under their thumb, that I have no choice but to comply with their demands. was an powerful and influential man in the High Command, second to Minister T'Pau. Were Soultek and Koss influencing T'Pau in a negative way?
"I must find a way around certain safety protocols," she said slowly. "Perhaps if I can convince Lieutenant Commander Tucker to reveal some of them...without his knowing, of course."
Koss frowned and she felt a flash of...something within the bond, weak but detectable. "Lieutenant Commander Tucker? Ah...he is the Tactical Officer of your new ship. I remember Del'haiu Soval mentioning him several times while Tucker was assigned to the Vulcan Consulate in San Francisco."
"Yes, he is the same man."
"Have you met this Commander Tucker?"
"No." Again, she felt a brief surge of surprise and...was that relief? It was difficult to tell; the bond between them had never been strong, and nothing like T'Les and Sendak. T'Pol stifled a rising wave of resentment before Koss could detect it. To her own relief, Koss made no sign he felt her reaction.
If she had treasured their betrothal bond, she might have been worried. As it was now, she was only grateful.
"No? That is rather surprising, considering Soval considers Tucker to be like an...errant nephew of sorts." Koss's mouth thinned in obvious disapproval.
"No." Her mouth quirked upward as she added, "I suspect Del'haiu Soval may have been instrumental in my never meeting him, Koss."
He smiled faintly. "Ah, then Soval was wise to keep you from him, th'y'la. Will you meld with Tucker to gain the knowledge we seek?"
T'Pol's humor faded at the endearment, th'y'la. Beloved. From Koss's lips, it sounded like an epithet. "You forget...Tucker has had some experience with melding from Soval. He does have the ability to shield some of his thoughts. No, I would prefer to explore his defenses first...then bypass them."
"Logical." He nodded. "He is an irrational Human. In addition, he is a friend of the Tellarites, and therefore, a threat to Vulcan."
"I am aware of that, Koss. I may be able to assess that threat as well."
He grasped both of her hands. "I enjoy your thought processes, th'y'la.As I said, my father has chosen my mate well. When your duties and...obligations are ended, I look forward to our wedding and our children."
She said nothing to that, but only, "I will return to Vulcan, Koss, but I cannot predict when."
"I will wait patiently, and in the meantime, my father and I will make sure Vulcan is safe from interlopers once more, so your return will be joyful." He nodded and stood up. "Be safe, th'y'la, and return to me. Peace and long life."
She returned the ta'al, then watched as he turned and strode out of the garden. For a man who scorned emotion and claimed to embrace logic, she could see the happiness in his stride. When he finally disappeared from view, she allowed a faint expression of disgust to show on her face.
He and his father are monsters, she thought. They do not care about Vulcan; they care about their own power. , she wondered how Soultek had convinced T'Les to bond their children; her cool, levelheaded mother would never acquiesce to such an abomination.
But I have a mission to complete: to defeat Soultek and Koss, and for that, I will need some...unorthodox assistance. Surak forgive me, I cannot do this alone. T'Pol shivered and turned towards the fountain. She dipped her hands into the cool water and splashed it on her face and neck. The cloying stench of deception seemed to cling to her, despite her best efforts.
She stared at the water, and against her will, she thought she saw an image within: an image of a sandy-haired Human with piercing blue eyes, and the uniform of a Starfleet armory officer.