Chapter 4

Disclaimer: me hab nudden

A/N: Thank you to all who have reviewed! Scifi Girl, you got the prize for catching the Wrinkle in Time reference. PM me with your name and I will put you on the 1701-D. Every reader, your input will make the next chapter come faster!

"Damn, she's a beauty!" Commander Tucker said under his breath.

"Commander Tucker, in your aesthetic judgment of the vessel did you notice the markings on the bow?" queried T'Pol, who was the only one close enough to hear what he said.

"Enter…what the hell? And it's in English with Arabic numbers. NCC 1701 D?" Trip shouted. He turned to the Vulcan next to him who was busy scanning readouts and data streams, grinned, and said in a low voice. "The Vulcan Science Directorate has determined that time travel is impossible! I wish they were here now, cause I see a vessel with human design and a human name that could rival some of y'all's battle cruisers."

"It is indeed an impressive ship but for all we know it could be manned by a culture who developed parallel to your own but at a faster pace. Ensign Sato could, no doubt, give you many examples of cultures on your own world which, though separated by large distances, still developed much of the same architecture, technology, and philosophies, albeit at different paces," responded the Vulcan, purposefully not looking up from her readouts.

"Okay, I'll give you that, but didn't your scientists say that our vessels wouldn't work because of a 'faulty design'? Well there you see the perfection of the design there."

Hoshi's voice broke through Jonathan Archer's amazement at the ship on the screen, "Captain, our hail has been answered, but with audio only."

"They don't want us to see what they look like. Could they be Xindi, trying to copy our ship designs in order to infiltrate the system?" Malcolm's last question completely broke the entire bridge's awe of the vessel.

"Put them through, Hoshi. This is Captain Jonathan Archer of the starship Enterprise. Who are you and why don't you establish visual contact with us?" Archer was now in full captain mode.

A voice came through in perfect English, no pause for the translater. It sounded cultured with a British accent, "My name is Jean-Luc Picard, captain of this Enterprise and while I are not averse to a visual meeting, I believe that it would be better for all involved if it took place on your vessel."

Will Riker would never cease to be amazed by Captain Picard. Here he was, communicating with a Starfleet legend, and was seemingly as calm as if he were pruning grape vines. Captain Archer's voice sounded hard and angry, not at all like the recorded speeches that were in the curriculum for command studies.

"We would prefer if you would drop your shields. As it is you seem to have us at a tactical disadvantage." Why was Captain Archer worried about tactics at a time like this?

"Certainly. Would you rather we transport over or use a shuttle?" It seemed that Captain Picard had picked up on Captain Archer's suspiciousness and was doing his best to appease his predecessor.

"Drop your shields and I'll consider it. Archer out."

"Well that was abrubt."

"I fear it did not go as well as I had hoped it would, Number One," responded the Captain with a hint of weariness in his voice.

"On the contrary, sir, you have assuaged some of their fears by readily agreeing to drop our shields. Also by wanting to meet on their ship, you have given up an advantage. Captain Archer is no longer unfriendly, he is more indifferent," stated Deanna from the other side of the Captain.

"Now the ball is in their court," came a crisp voice from the conn. Everyone stared at the android. "Did I not use the idiom in the correct situation?" he asked, wanting clarification.

"Sir, their shields are down. Multiple torpedo tubes, multiple, high-powered phaser banks. The specs are somewhat similar to our own, but slightly different, like major upgrades. The power output of one phaser alone is enough to knock us out."

Damn that Malcolm, he judged everything on destructive power alone. Trip had already decided that the other Enterprise couldn't be all that bad. No bad guy would be caught dead in a ship that gorgeous. "Malcolm, just stop, we gave them a pretty bold request, and they played ball. I for one can't wait to meet this Picard guy."

"Trip, you, T'Pol and Malcom go down to the transporter platform with a couple of MACO's. Hoshi get me audio again," ordered Jon after a brief pause. As Trip walked off of the bridge, he heard Picard's voice again.

That's weird, a guy with a British accent and a French name. "Hey Mal, there that many of y'all Brits with French names? I thought y'all didn't really get along that well."

Malcolm Reed had just about had enough for one day; between Major Hayes wanting to take over ship's security and Commander Tucker not giving a damn about it, he was on a short fuse. Ignoring Commander Tucker's question for the time being, he paged security and asked for Ensigns Rigil and D'hot to meet them at the platform and prayed to God that-

"Mr. Reed, the captain instructed you to have MACO's as a security precaution." That did it.

"Listen here, security is my department, not Hayes'. If you want him to be security, so be it, but until I am ordered otherwise, I run security and I will assign appropriate precautions, not Hayes!"

The ferocity of his statement took both his commanding officers by surprise, so much so that when he turned and walked off toward the platform they were pressed to catch up to him. "Mal, if you are having trouble with Hayes, let the Captain know, but don't take it out on T'Pol. Is that understood, Lieutenant?" Trip used Malcolm's rank in order to press the point, but the conversation would have to be continued later 'cause they were now approaching the transporter where Kent Rigil and Marina D'hot were waiting. One thing Trip had learned from watching Jon: never let the noncom's see officer's arguing.

"Captain, the NX-01 is reestablishing audio contact."

"Put them through, Mr. Worf. Picard here."

"We will transport two of your crew over here."

"Understood, we will be on our tranporter platform, I on my way now. Any problems can be addressed to my first officer, Commander Riker."

"Deanna, come with me." As Deanna followed the Captain into the turbolift, she glanced back at her imzahdi. 'Be safe' she heard through their tenuous telepathic connection.

Then, Will turned back to the viewscreen to study the NX-01.

As they made their way to transporter room one, she probed the captain, "Sir, may I ask why you wanted me to come with you, and not one of the other officers? I know very little of Earth's history, and don't have the fascination with the early hero's of Starfleet. Lieutenant LaForge or Commander Riker or even Lieutenant Worf know more of this crew than I do."

"That is precisely why I want you with me. You will be seeing Charles Tucker, Jonathan Archer, and Malcolm Reed with fresh eyes. None of the tall tales will be affecting your judgement." With the last statement, he ushered her through the doors to the transporter room where Miles O'Brien was waiting. "Will our transporters align with theirs'?"

"Yes, sir, but it will be a bit tricky. Looking at these specs, it's amazing they didn't lose anyone's matter stream back then. I'm going to hold you in a buffer as a backup," said the curly-haired Irishman.

"We would appreciate that, Mr. O'Brien."

"O'Brien to NX-01."

"Tucker here, y'all ready?"

"Two standing by"

Miles barely had time to register that it was the Charles Tucker that answered the call before Captain Picard and Coucilor Troi were lost in a shimmer of light.

"Hell, is that entire ship full of Brits? Did England wind up taking over Starfleet?" Trip asked as he transported the two people from the other ship

"He sounded Irish, Trip, not English. And please don't say 'same difference'. It would be an affront to Englishmen everywhere."

Damn, Malcolm sounded on edge. If his previous outburst at T'Pol was any indication, he might need to take a break. Hell, they all needed a break. Maybe when the Xindi were stopped… "I bet the Irish would say the same about y'all, Mal." All conversation stopped as two forms appeared on the transporter pad. One was a bald human male, looking about in his mid-forties. Judging by the four full pips on his collar, this would be Captain Picard. The other was a woman with long, dark curly hair. She had two full pips and another, empty one. A new rank? Not only a new rank, but new uniforms. Picard wore what looked to be slacks and a dressy shirt. Trip felt like he was ill-dressed, like wearing a mechanic's uniform in a fancy church. The woman's uniform reminded Trip of some of T'Pol's outfits: covering everything, but so form fitting that it left nothing to the imagination. As T'Pol stepped up to Picard, Trip was able to get a better look at exactly how well T'Pol's uniform fit her, just for comparison, of course…

T'Pol approached the two humans. "Welcome aboard the Earth starship Enterprise. I am T'Pol, the first officer." Gesturing toward Commander Tucker, she added, "This is the Chief Engineer, Commander Charles Tucker the Third." She glanced at Lieutenant Reed and said pointedly, "This is Lieutenant Malcolm Reed head of Security and Tactical Systems." Lieutenant Reed seemed to understand her addition of Security to his title as what it was: confidence in his abilities to maintain peace onboard the ship.

The male spoke first, " I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard and this is my diplomatic attaché, Lieutenant Commander Deanna Troi," the female stood a little straighter. "Is there someplace we can sit and talk in private?"

"The Capt'n's mess oughta hold us all. You want me to get the Capt'n while you and Malcolm show them the way?" As illogical as he at seemed, Commander Tucker occasionally had moments of rationality. This appeared to be on of those moments. T'Pol nodded her head as her answer.

"This way, please," said Lieutenant Reed, walking alongside Captain Picard.

As the female walked by, T'Pol felt a brush on her mind. This woman was obviously more than she seemed.