Tempest
Hammerhead Class Frigate (NC-114)
Trip waited with Benning at the port airlock. The port, as he still wasn't one hundred percent confident of the starboard airlock's integrity. They'd taken a bit of a hit near there and it was one of about a million little things on their 'to-do' list that they weren't bothering with.
Behind them stood the small, three-man security detail Benning had chosen for the purpose of escorting the Vulcans to the brig. And two more security officers stood to one side of them, assigned to give the shuttle a good, solid rummaging through before releasing it back to the Kolinahr.
Pretty much their whole security department right there.
The airlock pinged and opened immediately, seemingly before it cycled. Lieutenant Talla Shran stepping through in a flash, her antennae rigid with agitation.
"Talla," Trip said, nodding. "Good work over there. I didn't think you and Claiborne would…"
"I've got work to do." Shran snapped, fuming. Already brushing by, down the corridor toward engineering. Like something angry and blue the wind had inexplicably blown past him.
After a split second Claiborne appeared, casting around for his commanding officer and finally high-stepping it toward engineering. Forced to assume that's where she went, since she was already gone.
Trip gave him a quick 'yeah, go ahead' nod when he at least spared him a glance, seeking permission to pursue.
So, okay. He should have seen that one coming. Shran and Vulcans…they didn't mix all that well…
Commander Keyla Song appeared next, exhaling a bit with relief when she stepped out into the corridor. In her case, probably more from having finally got back to the Tempest than over any particular discomfort at sharing a shuttle ride with Vulcans.
"Song." Trip said, grinning.
"Captain." She said, smiling back. "Good to be home. I was dying over there."
"Damned good work on the sensor ops, Keyla." He said. "Anything here I need to be worried about?"
Song glanced back at the interior of the shuttle.
"No," She said. "Talla just glared at everyone. No diplomatic incidents or anything, if that's what you mean."
Trip nodded. "Good. Hang around here for a minute. Eckerd's got the bridge for now and that'll do."
Song nodded and stepped over, waiting alongside the half dozen others in the hall for the Vulcans to exit the shuttle. And never mind, apparently, that no actual command officer was commanding the ship at the moment…
The first Vulcan stepped out…
…and Trip just sorta knew. His suspicions up to that point had been entertained on enough of a subconscious level that he hadn't fully been aware of them.
But, yeah, this one was going to be trouble. A lot of trouble. You could practically see it step off the shuttle right alongside her, smirking and waving at everyone it was going to make miserable for the next few days…
"Commander T'Pol." She said, identifying herself. "Permission to come aboard, Captain?"
Trip almost hesitated before granting it. But he nodded. With perhaps a slight hesitation.
"Come aboard." He said, evenly. "Kinda crowded out here but go ahead and pick a spot. Where's your prisoner?"
T'Pol stepped aside, turning her attention to the Vulcan stepping out behind her. And the third one exiting behind her, escorting her.
"Subaltern T'Lea." T'Pol said, gesturing at the prisoner. Then at the man immediately behind her. "And this is Major Tulok."
Trip waited, in case someone else was going to be stepping out. But no one did.
So he focused his attention on the young Subaltern.
"This is your prisoner?" He asked. "Isn't this the same woman you had piloting your shuttle before, Commander?"
"Indeed." T'Pol said, folding her hands at her back. "She is a highly skilled pilot."
As if that explained everything.
Trip stared, taking that in for a moment. And T'Pol stared back at him, entirely at ease. Betraying nothing at all.
So he looked to Song at his side.
"No one else got off this shuttle before you left?" He asked.
Keyla shrugged. "Not that I know of, Captain. But they were already…"
"But they were already waiting for you at the shuttle bay when you got there, right?"
She nodded. "Yes, sir."
Trip turned back to glare at the Vulcans. While Benning suddenly busied himself with his PADD, calling up something there to fiddle with.
"You're telling me you had your prisoner piloting your shuttle?" Trip demanded, turning to T'Pol. "Have I got that right, Commander?"
"Of course." T'Pol said, comfortably. "As I have said, she is a highly skilled pilot. She was the logical choice."
Trip turned to T'Lea. "And I suppose you didn't have a problem with that? Piloting the folks around who'd taken you into custody?"
T'Lea arched an eyebrow back at him. As if the question were ridiculous.
"Certainly not, Captain." She said. "As I had already been apprehended and any attempt at escape would be futile, it was logical to comply with the requirement."
Trip nodded, coldly. "Right. Of course."
Benning nudged him from the side, holding his PADD over to him so he could see it. Trip looked it over, then turned to share a look with the tactical officer, who frowned back at him.
Trip spared the Vulcans a good once-over before speaking again.
"Fine." He decided. "Benning, get these folks down to the brig. Put the prisoner in the cell and let Major Tulok here take guard. Your men will escort them and back him up there. Where I expect he'll remain on hand, seeing as how he's responsible for the prisoner."
He faced Commander T'Pol again. As the two Vulcans and half his security detachment filed by, making their way to the brig. And she wasn't offering anything, that he could see.
Trip turned to the two security still waiting behind him.
"Check the shuttle." He ordered. "And don't miss anything. Check the pilot, too, and run his identification by the Kolinahr. I want his jacket on my PADD for review when you get it."
Trip stared back at T'Pol again as the security officers moved past him for the shuttle. Daring her to say something about that. But she gazed back at him easily.
So he nodded. Fine. And tapped at the comm on his belt.
"Captain to the bridge." He said.
"Bridge, Captain."
"Soon as security's finished going over the shuttle and they get clear, you go ahead get us the hell out of here. The Kolinahr can catch up."
"Understood, Captain."
"You come with me." He said, nodding to T'Pol, his voice hard. "We've got things to talk about. Song, you come along, too."
Trip stepped into the conference room, leading T'Pol and Song in. Taking up position to start butting heads once the Vulcan got into the room far enough.
"Okay." He said, approaching the display table. "Where to start?"
He passed a hand over the rainbow surface, calling up the controls for computer access. And pulled up the video Benning had shown him in the hall a minute before. The same recording he'd used on the bridge to confirm with him that the Vulcans on the shuttle were intelligence agents.
He cycled forward quickly to the right place, froze it and zoomed in. On the spot between Commander T'Pol and Major Tulok. In the background, where the edge of the aisle seat behind them could be seen.
And the left shoulder clearly visible there. The shoulder of the fourth passenger on the shuttle.
Trip waggled a finger at the picture, floating high above the table so everyone in the room could see it clearly.
"So who's that, Commander?" He asked.
T'Pol looked at the holographic display curiously. But with no noticeable concern.
"That is Subaltern Marel." She said. "The shuttle pilot."
Trip nodded. "Right. And he's just sitting there while the prisoner pilots the shuttle."
"Of course." She said. As that was perfectly obvious.
"Sure." Trip nodded. "And I guess when security forwards that jacket to me, it'll confirm that the guy down in the shuttle right now is Subaltern Marel."
"I would presume."
"And Captain S'Kon would confirm that Subaltern Marel piloted you out to the belt to retrieve your prisoner."
"Again, I would presume so."
"Okay." Trip said, nodding. "So how'd Subaltern T'Lea get out there?"
T'Pol blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I think you heard me." Trip said. "If this pilot here shuttled you out to the belt to pick up your prisoner, how'd she get there? There was no other shuttle in the area, and no debris from one either, that I'm aware of."
T'Pol paused for a moment…
"That is what I am here to report, Captain." She said, evenly. "The asteroid, 9-Parilla. It housed a Romulan listening post that we were ordered here to investigate. Subaltern T'Lea was apprehended there, having been abandoned by the Romulans who operated the post. When they likewise abandoned the post itself."
"Abandoned." Trip said, to be clear. "Because, I guess, she was working with them. And that's why you had her in custody. You wouldn't have arrested her for being held captive or something."
"Certainly not." T'Pol said. "As I have said…"
"So where's her rank insignia?" Trip asked, turning to tap the display hanging above the table. Tapping the Vulcan collar, where no rank insignia presented itself.
"I assume she must have removed it." T'Pol suggested. "As she was working with…"
"Okay, how far do you really want to go with this?" Trip snapped, folding his arms. "Because I can stand here all day poking holes in your story. We haven't got all day, though. So why don't you just exercise some logic here and admit you're lying, so we can get past that."
"Very well." T'Pol said, without delay. "I am lying."
Trip blinked. Because…he hadn't really, seriously, expected she'd admit it like that.
"You're lying?" He asked. Just to be clear here.
"Of course." She said. "The prisoner was transferred to the custody of security personnel aboard the Kolinahr prior to your Executive Officer's arrival in the shuttle bay. Agent T'Lea then assumed the role, to act as your prisoner."
"Why?" Trip snapped.
"Because we did not wish to turn over custody of the prisoner to you." She said, patiently. Because that should have been quite obvious.
"Why not?" Trip snapped. Again.
T'Pol arched an eyebrow at him. But didn't answer.
So he waited, glaring at her. Until she was forced to respond.
"I can lie again, if you wish, Captain." She said, evenly.
It was quiet for a moment. As Trip glared at T'Pol. And T'Pol look calmly back at him…
"Crap." Song said suddenly, already tapping her comm.
"What?" Trip asked.
"Song to the bridge." She said, looking back at him.
"Bridge, Commander."
"Check the Kolinahr's heading, Eckerd." Song said, frowning.
"Uh…they're off course a good bit, Commander. Comm's trying to hail…"
"Plot their course. Where are they headed?"
"Plot…? Right, they're…Commander, they're on course for Vulcan. Just hitting warp four…Comm's not getting any response to hails, ma'am."
Song glared back at Trip. Who just turned and tossed his hands a bit. Cursing quietly.
"Understood, bridge. Carry on." Song said, tapping her comm closed.
And it was quiet again.
Song was tense, expecting the Captain to start yelling at someone in a minute. At the Vulcan, hopefully. The Vulcan in question didn't seem particularly anxious, though. In fact, she looked almost bored…
"Why the hell are you even on my ship?" Trip said, turning around again.
T'Pol's eyebrow flittered up again. "Excuse me?"
"Why are you here?" Trip repeated. "You managed to snatch that prisoner right from under us. So why didn't you just get off on the Kolinahr and go the hell home? If I can't even present your prisoner to Colonel Hauser when we arrive, then I don't see any benefit to having Vulcan agents on my ship."
"I have intelligence to relay to Colonel Hauser." T'Pol said. "And having said that, I require a private, secure comm with the Colonel as soon as possible."
"Fine." Trip nodded. "But you'll report to me first. Tell me about this Romulan listening post, Commander."
"As I've said, I must report to Colonel Hauser. This information should be limited in distribution to Alpha Centauri Defense Force command."
"We're code one." Trip pointed out. "That puts Centauri Defense under Starfleet command. So you're talking to the defense force right now."
T'Pol pondered that.
"This information is highly sensitive." She said, finally.
"You're concerned about security?" Trip said, with a touch of sarcasm. "Well, I can understand that. We're tight as drum around here. Isn't that right, Song?"
Song blinked. 'Tight as a…'?
Oh, crap. This again.
"Uh…yes, Captain."
"What's standard operation procedure number one aboard the Tempest, Commander Song?"
Oh, jeez. She just knew it…
"Don't make me say that, Captain…" Song frowned.
"Come on, Keyla." Trip said, not taking his eyes off T'Pol.
"Rule number one is you do not talk about the Tempest, Captain." She said, reluctantly.
"And what's standard operating procedure number two?"
Song sighed. "You do not talk about the Tempest."
"And how's Project Mayhem coming along?"
"Sir, the first rule of Project Mayhem is you do not ask questions, sir."
Trip nodded.
"See?" He said to T'Pol, jerking a thumb at Song. "Tight as a drum."
T'Pol glanced over at the Executive Officer. Then back at the Captain.
It would seem they had some measure of strict communication guidelines in effect regarding sensitive information. But she strongly suspected, judging from the subtle cues being displayed…
"You are mocking me." She decided.
"And you lied. So I guess we're even." Trip said. "So, spill it. I want to know what we'll be presenting to Colonel Hauser before we present it to him. Fill me in here."
"…and so you suspect this coded information was planted." Colonel Hauser said, over the table's holographic screen. "Intended to be intercepted and confirmed by the prisoner they arranged to be taken into custody."
"That is correct, Colonel." T'Pol said, facing the screen. Her hands tucked precisely at her back.
"Captain Tucker, what have you got on this?"
"Sir, I'm afraid I'll have to agree." He shrugged. "Hell of a coincidence with those demolition charges and the guy surviving in the first place. And according to the Commander here, they abandoned post just hours before the Kolinahr came on the scene. It had to be the same Bird of Prey we engaged that picked them up, in fact."
Colonel Hauser glared from atop the table, down at Commander T'Pol.
"Commander, if I thought I'd accomplish anything worth a damn ripping you a new for this little stunt you pulled, I'd do that." He said. "But since I don't think I will, let's not and pretend we did. Alright?"
"I agree, Colonel." T'Pol said. Agreeably.
"Good." Hauser said. "And I'll be taking that up with High Command. Again, not that it'll amount to a damned thing. Now where are we on this coded message? You've at least recovered it from the computer memory core you picked up?"
"We have." T'Pol said. "As well as the document we suspect serves as the key. From what I was able to gather in the course of my interrogation, we are dealing with a simple book cipher."
"That's good, then. Nothing our cryptography gear over here can't handle quick enough…"
"Excuse me, Colonel." T'Pol said. "Our own portable gear serves sufficiently as well. But we have failed so far to crack the code, even with the text available and already converted. If we have proven unable to break the code yet, it is doubtful you will be able to do so quickly enough to act on the information."
"Well, I'm not seeing a third option here, Commander." Hauser frowned. "But of course, you have something in mind, I take it?"
"I do." She said. "We will work in conjunction with your cryptography team on Celestial station when we arrive. Together, we should be able…"
"We don't exactly have a cryptography team here, Commander." Hauser said. "Just the software. This isn't the sort of thing we routinely deal with. We could call in some military resources planet-side, but that brings us up against time constraints again."
T'Pol nodded. "I see. Nevertheless, that should prove sufficient. Whatever manner of book cipher we are dealing with, as long as we have the proper software available, it is only small matter of time before we crack it."
"Tucker? You have someone there that you can assign to oversee Commander T'Pol?"
T'Pol spoke quickly. "That will not be necessary, Colonel…"
"Wasn't talking to you, Commander." Hauser snapped. "Trip?"
Trip nodded. "Song here's my science officer and my XO, Colonel. She's got cryptography training, sir."
"Well…just basic cryptography, through academy science operations courses, sir." She said to Hauser. "But we covered that the first week. I guess I can brush up on a few things…"
"Good enough." Hauser said. "Get to work on it, Tucker. We'll transfer your people and Commander T'Pol here to our security department when you arrive."
"Understood, sir." Trip acknowledged.
"Keep an eye on things, Tucker." The Colonel warned. "And let's try to get this on the plate before Admiral Coleman arrives. Hauser out."
The display went dark, collapsing back into the surface of the table.
T'Pol, being prone to efficiency, wasted no time. She turned to the two Humans in the room.
"As it stands, all possible combinations of returns using standard and exotic language platforms in relation to all known variants of book cipher cryptography have already been reviewed, with no tenable results. Consequently, Major Tulok and I have determined it is most probable we are dealing with an equidistant letter sequence, and so require a key phrase or numerical string to determine the boundaries of the matrix…"
"Wait." Trip said, holding up one hand to T'Pol. "Translate for me here, Song. What the hell's she talking about?"
"Uh…" Song hesitated. "It's kind of complicated…"
"Just give me the basics."
The basics? That was…a little…well, she wasn't really sure what T'Pol had said wasn't 'the basics'…
"Um…okay." She said, giving it a shot. "Imagine a book. A string of text. And take out all the punctuation and spaces and whatnot. Until you got just one long string of text. Okay?"
Trip nodded. Got it.
"Then you pick a distance…say, a hundred characters along the string." She said. "You break off that string at one hundred. Then again at the next hundred. Until you've got the whole string broken down in lines, one after the other, each of them one hundred characters long…"
"Hold on." Trip said, "You're talking about a bible code."
"A…what, sir?"
"You just pick a starting point, one of those letters there." He said. "Then you jump ahead the same number of letters each time, all the way through, until you have another string. And you keep doing that, picking random starting points and skip points until you find words or phrases hidden in there…"
"Well, I suppose." Song said, uncertainly. "But we're talking about words that have already been searched for and identified. Words that just appear at random, by chance, in the string. The code is supposed to tell us which words in what order, so it can relay a message…"
"Right." Trip said. "So you're talking about running an ELS search on the key text. The Romulan handbook, in this case. You find a few places where the word you want shows up and you send off one of those…what, coordinates I guess? And the guy on the other end uses his book to find that word."
"Yeah, that's…pretty much it." Song nodded. "How did you know about this? I didn't think you had any cryptography training."
Trip shrugged. "I don't. We used to play with this in the academy. It's bible code. You run software that looks through the bible. Maybe a billion different random matrixes like you said, searching for whatever words or phrases you tell it to. Or just look for random things to report back. It's pretty weird the stuff that's encoded in there. Been around for about a thousand years or something, Song. I'm surprised you never heard of it."
Song frowned. "Not my kind of party, I guess. But you're familiar with this?"
"Yeah, sure. In fact…" Trip said. "Hey, Alice. Online."
"Hello, Trip. Would you like to review tactical simulations?"
"No, thanks." Trip said. "Access my personal console and look around for some software in there. Something or other 'bible code'. Pretty sure I just grabbed every bundle on my personal computer when I shipped out. Should still have a copy of it in there somewhere."
"Searching…I have it. Would you like to access it from the conference room display table?"
"No, you access it." He said. "We've got a text source I'm going to download here, and a set of ELS codes. Run all possible combinations and report back anything that looks coherent. Anything that makes sense or might form a message of some kind."
"Awaiting input, Trip."
He turned to T'Pol then. "Okay, let's get that stuff plugged in here…"
Then noticed her eyebrow. Because she throwing it up at him like that.
"What?" He said.
"You have an artificial intelligence program on this vessel, Captain." T'Pol said, accusingly.
"Huh?" He blinked. "Oh! No. No, Alice is just a language processor. Analogous Language Interface Computer."
T'Pol stared.
"It's basically just a computer with a universal translator at its core. Uses basic root language structures in place of a programming language."
T'Pol cocked her head a little, to match her eyebrow.
"So you can give it plain language instructions and it'll write its own programming." He explained. "We're supposed to be testing the system, letting it build a database as it interacts and adjusts to new commands. But it's usually just easier to perform our regular duties with standard consoles, so we've…kinda haven't been…"
Nothing.
"Look, it's not an AI." He said, a little frustrated. "Trust me. So do you have those codes? And the handbook you were talking about?"
T'Pol produced a Vulcan PADD, still eyeing him dubiously but apparently not willing to pursue the matter further just yet.
"Alright, just plug them in there." Trip said, frowning.
T'Pol searched the holographic interface in front of her. Having no idea…
"I am unfamiliar with this system." She said. "Plug it in where?"
Trip frowned, tapping something in front of him. And a port of some kind began flashing in front of her.
It occurred to her to ask and clarify that the hologram in front of her would actually be able to access her PADD. And receive data from it. Because a hologram couldn't normally do that…
But she didn't appreciate seeming off balance or uninformed. And it was obvious that it was expected, so…she just plugged the PADD into the somehow solid holographic 'port' before her…and hoped she wasn't being foolish…
"I'm ready, Trip. Would you like me to begin?"
"Go ahead, Alice."
"Working."
After a second or two it was clear Alice wouldn't be throwing back any Romulan messages right away. So T'Pol turned to Tucker.
"Captain, I have never seen holographic technology this advanced." She said. "I was unaware Earth had developed anything like this. As I'm sure High Command is unaware."
"They didn't develop it." Trip said. "I did. This tech is exclusive to the Tempest. Cutting edge, prototype, under development. You haven't heard of it because you won't find it anywhere else but here. If you'd run home on the Kolinahr like you should've, you could have pulled a file on the Tempest over at Ministry of Information headquarters and probably read all about it."
T'Pol was unconvinced. "I find that doubtful." She said.
Trip shrugged, not bothering to look at her. "Couldn't care less. If you folks dropped the ball and didn't pick up on any of this, that's not my problem. You're the intel officer. You should probably be taking scans or something."
"You would allow that, Captain?"
And now he looked at her. Smirking.
"The first rule of Project Mayhem is you do not ask questions, Commander T'Pol."
T'Pol considered his answer.
"You would not allow it." She determined, after a moment.
"No." Trip said. "And I wouldn't recommend trying to sneak a scan, if I were you. And you'll just have to trust me on that. Security will know about it before you can say 'please stop clubbing me on the head'."
T'Pol stared coldly at the Human Captain. Not appreciated being mocked yet again.
And suppressing frustration that this seemed only to amuse him all the more…
"I'm finished, Trip. Would you like to review the results?"
"Yeah, go ahead, Alice." He said, returning his attention to the table. Where a screen rose up, with four lines of text appearing there.
In Romulan.
"Alice, it would kinda help if we could read that." He said.
Nothing happened.
Trip sighed.
"See?" He said, to T'Pol. "This is why we don't use Alice so much. I just figured you'd find it easier than the hologram interface, but…look, can you translate that, Alice?"
"Of course, Trip."
Nothing happened.
"Translate that, Alice." Trip said.
The text shifted immediately.
"Will the room denote an incorporated union?
The triple style jumps inside the idea by remarkable diligence.
A telling virgin drives the estate.
The dirt bubble offends knowing percentiles."
Trip gestured at the screen. "Okay, I'm not the intelligence officer here, but were we expecting this to make sense?"
"Wait, this is the best Alice could come up with?" Song asked. "With the whole book to work from?"
"I told her to give us everything coherent." Trip said. "Anything that looked like a message."
T'Pol suppressed frustration. "It would have been logical to wait until we had access to proper cryptography software…"
"Hey, our computer's as good as anything on Celestial station." Trip insisted. "We're just missing something somewhere. Are you sure those codes are complete? There isn't some other key or something you missed?"
"It is a book cipher." T'Pol argued. "Whether an equidistant letter sequence form of book cipher or not, all that should be required are the key text and the codes themselves. Especially if our assumptions here are correct, that the Romulans left the codes with the intention that it be broken easily."
"So maybe they didn't intend for it to be broken easily." Trip countered. "Maybe our assumptions here are wrong."
"No, Captain. She's right." Song offered, shaking her head. "If that were the case we wouldn't be dealing with a book cipher of any kind. We'd have a code so complicated and deeply embedded that, even if we recognized it was a code, it would take the most advanced computers available a few months to crack it. Cryptography's gotten pretty advanced over the last few hundred years, sir."
"Well, then, we're missing something." Trip said, irritably. "Something obvious, since the Romulans are supposed to just be handing this code right over to us…"
"Captain…" T'Pol said. And something in her voice got his attention. So he looked over at her.
Finding her holding something in her hand.
A small, framed picture, he saw. Which he recognized immediately when she held it up for him.
"Where'd you get that?" He asked, surprised. It wasn't the kind of thing you'd expect a Vulcan to be carrying around.
"You recognize this, Captain?" T'Pol asked.
"Sure. The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog." He said. "I remember that from grade school or something. At least, I think…"
"Whoa! Whoa, wait a minute." Song exclaimed. "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. That's a pangram."
"A pangram?" T'Pol asked, quickly.
"Right, right." Trip said, remembering the significance. "A sentence that uses every letter in the alphabet. I mean…that is right, isn't it Song?"
"That's it." She nodded, excited. "And that's got to be our missing key. Where'd you get that, Commander?"
"It was hanging on the wall above the Romulan Major's desk." She said. "Above the computer console containing the memory core…"
"Where you got the code in the first place." Trip frowned. "Yeah, okay. I think I'm convinced here, people. They really did want us to break this code. They're practically beating us over the head with it."
"Alice…" T'Pol said, hesitantly. "Does your database contain the proper enumeration of the Romulan alphabet?"
"I'm sorry. It doesn't, you damned Vulcan."
"Very well. If the…" T'Pol said.
Wait…what had…?
"Excuse me?" T'Pol asked, her eyebrow jumping.
"Uh…yeah." Trip said. "That's…she must have picked that up somewhere…uh…nix the 'damned Vulcan' thing, please, Alice."
"Understood, Trip. Correcting phraseology."
Commander Song appeared to be choking as well, T'Pol noted with some alarm. Which only caused the entire situation to become all the more confusing…
And Captain Tucker's neck had suddenly turned an alarming shade of red, suggesting an extreme emotional reaction…
Unless…Commander Song was attempting to suppress humor. Unsuccessfully and at Captain Tucker's expense…
In which case…
T'Pol's eyes narrowed.
"So…uh…the Romulan alphabet, Alice." Trip said, tugging at his uniform collar uncomfortably. "You don't know in what order that's supposed to be in?"
"I'm sorry. I don't have that information, Trip."
"You've got the handbook now, right?" Trip said, studiously ignoring T'Pol's glare. "Can you find a phonetic alphabet listed there? Starfleet's introductory student handbook had one. I'm guessing the Romulan equivalent must have something like that."
"I have it, Trip."
"Okay, use the order of the Romulan alphabet as given there for…whatever Commander T'Pol was going to ask you about."
"I don't have enough information concerning what Commander T'Pol was going to…"
"Right, just…hold on." Trip said, turning to T'Pol. Awkwardly. "Uh…go ahead, Commander."
T'Pol waited a moment. Eyes still narrowed at him. Still staring coldly, holding him in that icy stare long enough to be sure he understood that she understood…
"Very well." She said, flatly. "Alice, compare the sequence of the English Standard alphabet given in the phrase 'the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog' to the equivalent Romulan alphabet, using the closest possible pronunciation to correlate. Using the result as the new Romulan alphabet sequence, assign the pronunciation of the standard Romulan alphabet, in their original sequence, to this new sequence on an individual basis. Then run the ELS search again."
"Working."
Trip stared a bit. Then turned to Song.
"You have any idea what she just said?" He asked.
"I think so, Captain." Song said. "But if you ask me translate that for you my brain might fall out."
"Yeah, okay." He said. "Never mind."
T'Pol attempted to explain. "I have instructed your computer program to exchange…"
"Yeah, thanks." Trip said, shaking his slightly and grinning. "I don't want my brain falling out."
"I have the results. Would you like to review the most coherent and relevant returns, Commander T'Pol?"
"Yes." T'Pol said, simply.
"Main fleet approaching Vulcan, Sculptoris.
Captain Trip has murdered.
Diversionary fleet to Centauri, Earth.
Abandon station.
Valek arriving to retrieve.
Activate D'Val."
Trip grumbled for a moment, below the hearing of anyone else in the room. T'Pol, of course, heard him perfectly.
"Damned computer."
Which only served to reinforce her suspicions concerning Alice's prior phraseology.
"Okay, first." Trip said. "I haven't murdered anyone that I recall. Second, isn't this exactly what we already know?"
"Alice," T'Pol said. "What other coherent returns were you able to discover?"
"The hail forms a prison.
My baby trouble involves your calculus.
I doubt the eternal lover awaits mine.
Before the well she stumbles to overlap.
A blue boil's opposite is envy."
"Yeah, that's a lot of nonsense." Trip said. "And I remember now why bible code was so much fun. I haven't murdered anybody, it just randomly appears in there. And Alice included it because it qualified as coherent and relevant. But, look, the point is…we already know this. So why go through all the trouble to leave us a coded message confirming what we already know? What would they gain from that?"
"The code was intended to present false information." T'Pol said.
"Yeah, but this isn't false." Trip insisted. "It's exactly what we're looking at out there. We've got a diversionary fleet moving in on Centauri and the main fleet going through Sculptoris, for Vulcan."
T'Pol considered the text on the screen.
"Perhaps not, Captain." She said.