Tempest
Hammerhead Class Frigate (NC-114)
Commander Song swept the console before her, giving it a second to confirm her identity before calling up a status overview. With a few tweaks here and there she had a roughly accurate idea of what was going on in and around the Tempest.
Benning and his boys were carefully escorting the last of the Vulcan wounded into the waiting arms of Celestial's 404th Medical Detachment. And she suffered a twinge of empathetic pain for all involved there. Celestial's Medical was practically a training ground for MACO medics and such. The facility was outfitted to deal with large numbers of incoming wounded, of course, sitting on the relative border this side of Human space like they were. The personnel didn't have any actual experience at it, though. And the Vulcans, tough as they may have proven to be, had suffered a lot. They'd lost quite a few of them just getting here.
Over the station security monitors, she could see Shran was off the ship already, leading in the first team of station engineers. A huge team, Song noticed. So Hauser really was throwing everything he could at Tempest to get her out of the way. She didn't have the sound on the security feed turned on but Song could tell that Talla was being pretty loud and hostile with them. She could only imagine the hell the Tempest's Chief Engineer must be putting those poor guys through, before they even stepped foot on the ship.
Flight, Comm and Sensors didn't have much of a crew to begin with but they were already leading their combined handful of officers and maybe a dozen crewmen off the ship. Of the lot of them, they were probably the only ones who'd get a real break before they rolled out again.
Song allowed herself to watch them dither a moment in the reception area out on the station. She was just wasting time doing so, but she was curious. Crenshaw was still at his bridge post to her left, but Sabrina Judge, his second, was out there. She watched Judge and Steel chat for a second or two before running their Crewmen off. Then Steel broke away and headed right for the public comms. To her surprise though, Judge and Roger Million, second Flight, strolled on over to the bar nearby. Now that was interesting.
She had the opportunity to reflect that being a Command officer sucked sometimes. She could use drink herself right now. And some nice company in the course of that would not be unwelcome.
Of course, a nap would be pretty great, too.
Which reminded her…
"Eckerd." She said, glancing over at the science station.
"Hm? Ma'am?" The Lieutenant startled. Whether because he was tired and spaced out or really was that deeply engrossed in his work, she couldn't tell.
"Why don't you go ahead and log out?" She said. "I've got science here, I'll take over. Go on out to Celestial and give your family a call."
"Yes, ma'am." He said, already stumbling out of his station. "Are you going to call your parents? They're on Proxima, aren't they?"
"Uh, yeah." She nodded. "Just go take a break while you can, Bryan. You can crash in the conference room when you get back, if you like."
She remembered Crenshaw then, too. And turned to him.
"Same for you, Ed. I think you've been at that station for something like twelve hours now, haven't you?"
"Off and on. Something like that." He said, rubbing his face tiredly. "I think I lost track of time a few hours ago. But then I can't really be sure."
Song grinned. "Right. Go hit your bunk, Ed. I'll call you if it gets interesting."
"Ensign Crenshaw, stepping down, ma'am." He said, heading for the door. "Hey, did I mention how weird it was that Judge and I are both Ensigns?"
"Yeah. I know that, Ed." She said, glancing back at him.
"Because, being first Comm, alpha bridge…an ensign, same as my second…thought that was interesting…"
Oh, right. This again.
"Yes, I get it, Ed." She nodded, patiently.
"Right. I'll be in my bunk." He said, tapping the panel at the door. Prepared to step through and depart the bridge.
"Oh! Captain Tucker said I did pretty good in that fight. And did you know I'm the only Ensign on alpha shift? Didn't know if I'd pointed that out…"
"Crenshaw," Song said, frowning at him now. "Get off the bridge and go get some sleep."
She didn't wait to see him leave the bridge. But he left. So she tapped the comm at her side. Because she had other things to do right besides acknowledging Crenshaw's completely unsubtle reminders that he was due for promotion.
"All officers." She said. "This is Song. Stop what you're doing and remind your crewmen not to get in the middle of anything they can't break away from. We don't have our orders yet but we could be shipping out any time. Remind them that we will leave them behind. That's all."
Three seconds passed.
"Crenshaw to bridge."
"Song, go ahead."
"Did you mean me or Judge? 'Cause we're both Ensigns. I know I'm supposed to be first Comm but chain of command gets a little fuzzy sometimes…"
"Crenshaw, if I hear from you again before you've got some sleep, you'll make Lieutenant Junior Grade posthumously. Understood?"
"…can you do that, ma'am?"
"Try me."
"Ensign Crenshaw out."
Song returned her attention to the display in front of her. And ignored Downing's snicker over at the Engineering station.
On the far right screen of the console, where Steel, Million and Judge had stood a moment ago, she was both concerned and relieved to see the Captain stroll by, the Vulcan intel agent right beside him. And her two agents right behind her. She found she didn't care much for her Captain strolling around alone with them like that.
They were spies, after all. Maybe even assassins or something.
But it did mean he was off to report in and probably receive their orders. She wasn't particularly looking forward to shipping right out again, but there was something definitely appealing about getting clear of the station and back out on their own. No one was really going to get a break around here until they did.
She did reflect, though…this ship had probably the oddest collection of officer's names. All the Crewmen were named 'Smith' and 'Williams' and 'Johnson'. The officers, though? Steel, Judge, Million, Tucker…it was kinda weird. Not too many normal names like 'Song'.
Well, maybe 'Benning' and 'Crenshaw'. But, still…it was like the farther you went up the chain of command around here, the weirder it got.
So. Call her parents.
She had to do that.
Really, really, did not want to, though. So…
"Alice, online."
"Hello, Keyla. The Tellar Academy of Forensic Psychology has published the study you were waiting for. Would you like to review it?"
"Uh…yes, actually." Song said. "Can you forward that to my personal?"
"Of course. Done, Keyla."
"And call up the last few text messages you wrote to my parents?" She asked. "See if you can write another one for me?"
"I have a frame to work from now. Are there any particulars you would like to modify?"
"Yes, mention the attack by the Bird of Prey, but downplay the danger as much as you can." She said. "Lead right into something positive from that. How we saved the lives of a few dozen Vulcan crewman, for example. Then whatever else you like after that."
"I have it, Keyla. Would you like to review?"
"Yeah, drop it here for me?" Song said, tapping the display to one side to call up a small blank screen there. The full-paged letter appeared immediately so she took a moment to look it over.
"That's perfect, Alice! Thanks." Song nodded. "Send that out."
"Your text message is on its way."
Song sighed, though. "I wish I could take the time to call them. But I so cannot deal with them right now…"
"If a frog had wings, it wouldn't bump its ass a-hoppin'."
Song squinted, puzzling that one out.
"No idea." She said, finally.
"'Raising Arizona'. 1987, starring Nicolas Cage, Holly Hunter…"
"Right. I remember." She nodded, snorting. "And I really need to take over movie night. Captain Tucker's killing us with that stuff."
"I understand. Did you find the reference relevant to our conversation?"
"It was a little off, actually, Alice. That would fit more in relation to an 'if then' hypothetical proposition. For example, if I said, 'If we didn't have so much electronics in the lower rearward, we'd have room for a transporter.' Then you might say, 'And if a frog had wings, it wouldn't bump it's ass hopping.' See?"
"Would this be considered a wisecrack?"
"I think so…but humor's not really my area. Maybe you should ask Crenshaw."
"I understand, Keyla."
"Okay, offline Alice."
Song studied the console again, particularly the system status display. There the data was already flowing and various system reports updating as she watched. Which meant Talla must really be cracking the whip with those station engineers…
"Benning to the bridge."
"Song, go ahead."
She could already see from the updates at his section of the console what he was calling to report, though.
"Got the last of the Kolinahr personnel transferred, Commander. Receiving some open gear for inspection. Probably looking at an hour more, then we're done."
"Good work, Benning." She said. "When you get done there, go ahead and start rotating your men. Keep it light, Richard. Doors, docks and locks. You know the drill. And get some sleep yourself."
"I'll get all the sleep I need when I'm dead, ma'am."
"You mean when they're dead. Show some dedication, Commander."
"Right, that's what I meant, ma'am. Kill 'em all. Hoorah."
"Now you're sounding like a Tactical Officer." She said, grinning. "Wrap it up and report back to the bridge, so I can bump you to your bunk."
"Sorry, ma'am. You're breaking up. You're going to bump 'what' in my bunk?"
Song sighed. "Don't push it, Richard. I'm feeling a little punchy myself."
"Well, I don't know, Commander. I'm not really into that sort of thing. I mean, I'll try anything once but…"
"Bridge out." She said, killing the comm. And shook her head a little.
Sheesh, everybody's a comedian around here…
Reception Area, Deck 12
Celestial Station, Proxima Orbit
As they walked along, T'Pol did her best to explain.
"It depends on the situation." T'Pol said. "If I were dealing with Humans, for example, I would deploy Major Tulok to retrieve the intelligence target."
"Right." Trip figured. "You'd probably do the distraction thing yourself and let him sneak by while they're all paying attention to you."
T'Pol raised an eyebrow at that. Unsure how he'd come to that conclusion.
"No." She said. "That would not be logical. In such a situation I would likely employ another Human, if I were able, while I conducted oversight."
"What? Why?" Trip asked, confused. "You're a…well, don't get me wrong…but you're a perfect distraction. Why hire someone else for that?"
T'Pol searched that for some meaning.
"You mean because I am attractive?" She guessed.
Trip grinned openly, looking away for a moment. "Well, I mean…" He said, a little embarrassed. "…well, yeah."
"That could indeed serve as an effective distraction." She agreed. "However, the problem with that is that it relies on attraction. The people you are attempting to distract will want you to stay and interact with them. It can often prove difficult to get away, even when the target intelligence has been retrieved and your operator has already left the scene unobserved."
Trip thought that over.
"Okay…but you said you'd use a Human." He said. "Why a Human?"
"In distracting other Humans." She corrected. "Any species prone to emotional behavior will do, of course. In such a case, behaving loudly and obnoxiously is much more effective. Especially if there is some measure of unpredictability, without necessarily a high level of threat. That is why I would prefer to utilize a Human…"
Trip was frowning. "Okay, hold on. I think I'm offended here."
"That is not my intention. I do not mean to imply Humans are naturally obnoxious. Rather, that they are skilled at displaying false expressions. Acting, essentially."
Trip snorted and chuckled suddenly, which she found curious.
"So you have some Human go in first, cause a scene. Then you or Major Tulok here just waltz right in while everyone's dealing with him and grab the…whatever you're after in there. Right? That's not exactly new. It's a pretty old trick."
"It is a method we have used successfully many times, when the target area is not adjacent to a public business, as would be preferable." She said. "It is an 'old trick', as you say, because it rarely fails."
"What if there is a business next door?"
"Then you cause a disturbance there instead." She said. "Rob the purveyors, start a fire or perhaps crash a vehicle into the front of the building. That then becomes your distraction. In such a case, if you do happen to come into conflict with security, the altercation will go unnoticed due to public attention being focused on the adjoining business. That it why this would be preferable."
Trip stared at her, a little shocked.
"You've actually done something like that before?" He asked.
T'Pol stared back at him, evenly.
"No." She said, flatly. "Of course not."
Trip's eyes narrowed. "Then why'd you bring it up?"
"You asked for an example…"
"No, you're lying. You have done that before."
T'Pol's eyebrow rose again. "Captain Tucker, if I had, I would never admit to it."
"So you have."
"Certainly not."
Conference Room A
Celestial Station, Proxima Orbit
Rear Admiral Coleman waited impatiently. He wasn't looking forward to this meeting in the first place. That the people who were supposed to be reporting to him were late wasn't helping.
So he stood at the head of the table. Waiting. Arms folded, letting his irritation gather and build. Because he was starting to look forward to expressing that when Tucker arrived. Not the meeting itself so much. Just that.
Beside him and slightly behind, Hauser waited as well. And frowned. Because he knew well enough that every second Tucker wasn't standing there reporting to Coleman was ten more seconds Coleman was going to give him hell about it.
The conference door on the far side of the room opened, letting in Captain Tucker and two of the Vulcan agents he'd at least had the foresight to bring along. The third apparently waiting outside the door.
But the two leading the way didn't even notice anyone else in the room when they entered. Because they were…chatting…
"…so you use a modulated argonium laser." Tucker was saying. "Most security cameras can't see the beam. Anyone watching on the other end won't see it either and it won't be recorded…but you can still see it. So you can aim it right through the lens."
"And it will disable the camera?"
"Sure, that's the problem with visual security monitors. Photo sensors are pretty sensitive. They have to be."
The two of them just waltzed right into the room. Still chatting. Still not realizing anyone else was standing there staring at them. While they stood around discussing…whatever the hell they were talking about…
"Disabling visual security remotes without being identified as the cause of their failure. That is very useful, Captain."
"Yeah, I figured you'd like that. And you can do kind of the same thing with passive gravimetric sensors. Not with a laser, I mean. You'd have to find a secondary grav plate conditioner. Take one of those, just slap a plain old high-output power cell from…say, a phase pistol…that'd work pretty well, actually…"
Well, that was quite enough of that.
"Captain Tucker!" Coleman barked.
Tucker startled. Jerking around to stare at the Admiral.
"Admiral!" He said, once he'd worked his jaw loose. "I didn't know you were here…"
"I noticed." Coleman glared. "A very interesting discussion you're having over there. Maybe we should drop this whole 'Romulan invasion' thing we're having a chat about over here and come join you instead."
"No, sir." Tucker winced. "Sorry, sir. We were only…"
"Cut the crap." Coleman snapped. "I literally just stepped off the boat, so don't waste my time. I haven't even set up an office around here yet. I've been waiting for your report."
Hauser stepped forward then. Hoping to get things on track quickly, before…well, he'd heard about these two…
"Admiral Coleman needs to see the intel these agents picked up on that asteroid, Captain." He said.
"And I just need you to confirm what they say." Coleman broke in, gesturing at the Vulcans. "So just stand there and nod, and I'll have all I need from you, Tucker."
Trip's jaw clenched. But he didn't say anything to that.
"You're Commander T'Pol?" Coleman asked, turning his glare on her.
"That is correct."
"Alright, let's have it."
T'Pol pulled her PADD from her jacket. And, with a concerned glance at Trip, turned to receive his PADD as well. As it contained the results that Alice had transferred there.
Trip didn't say anything further, though. He tucked his hands behind his back, standing at ease. Staring angrily at the back wall of the room.
"Here and here." Coleman was saying, pointing at two difference positions on the tactical display. Both just over four light years out from Centauri, and at least eight light years from one another. "These subspace sensor buoys will be our eyes and ears out there, if we really are expecting a Romulan fleet to move through here."
"Sir…" Tucker said, uncertainly. "We can do that, no problem. But at max warp it'll take two weeks to…"
"I'm not interested in your input, Tucker."
Tucker stiffened up again.
"Sir," He said. "I don't think that's…"
"What part of 'I'm not interested' are you having trouble with, Captain?"
T'Pol glanced back and forth between the two men. "Captain Tucker was commanding officer in the engagement…"
"I'm sorry, who are you again?" Coleman snapped. "Vulcan intel, right?"
"That is correct."
"Then I guess I don't need your input, either."
"Actually…sir…" Hauser broke in, hesitantly. "That high-low comm packet we got…"
"Not now, Colonel."
Hauser hesitated. But…
"Yes, sir."
Coleman turned his glare back on Tucker.
"Captain, let's get it straight between us." He said. "I don't like you. And I don't trust your judgment. I sure as hell don't think you should be commanding anything larger than a drafting board in some R&D station somewhere. But if you're so full of yourself that you think that's going to cause me to waste a resource like the Tempest, then you're mistaken."
He turned slapping one finger at the area where those two sensor buoys were to be deployed.
"Everything, including the intel your Vulcans here brought to the table, says we've got a Romulan fleet out there." Coleman said. "You want to argue with me that it's the main fleet. But it doesn't really matter. Command isn't assigning any more ships to this system. Or even this sector. We'll be making do with what we've got."
"Now, if Rommie's smart he'll have at least a couple of scout ships out there, waiting for us to try this very thing. That means your ship is the only one I'm willing to throw out there for this mission. If I send a Neptune, they may well not come back. And I'm sure as hell not throwing them the Rodger Young. They're needed here. The Tempest goes, because she's small enough to get out there, do the job and get the hell back here before anything can shoot her out of the sky."
"Now, if you're Vulcan agents here are right, and the main fleet is moving through here for Earth…then they'll have to sweep ahead of themselves to pick up on these buoys. They're very low profile. And if they really are stuck at warp four with those magnetic bottles they use, they can't even do that. Then we'll have our confirmation. Maybe not in time to shift forces here and save this system. But at least in time for us to fall back to Earth."
"Sir." Tucker said, shaking his head. "If we can't hold them here, then we won't be able to hold them there either. We'll just be handing them Centauri system."
"And buying Starfleet time to redirect forces to Sol." Coleman argued.
"Unless their fleet is already closing in, Admiral. If they're out there under cloak, anywhere closer than a few light years and we don't hold them up here for at least a few days, Starfleet won't have time to pull forces from Vulcan…"
"Tucker, you seem to be under the impression I don't know what I'm doing." Coleman growled. "I didn't get my Admiral stripes over the net. And I happen to know a few other Admirals. And this guy who calls himself the Fleet Admiral. Maybe you've heard of him."
"Yes, sir." Tucker said, gritting his teeth.
"We know the situation here, Captain. And all the requisite decisions have already been made. If the Romulan main fleet is out there, and they are already in under six light years from Centauri…then we're screwed. Simple as that. And there's not a damned thing we can do about it but go down swinging."
"But if not…and we're not all just going to go ahead and fall on our swords around here…maybe it'd be a good idea to get a couple of sensor buoys out there, don't you think?"
"Yes, sir."
"Outstanding. Why don't you go see about that, Captain?"
"Yes, sir."
And he was fuming, she could see. So T'Pol decided it was time for her to chime in.
"Admiral. If I may speak?"
Coleman glared at her. But nodded.
"Say your piece."
"If the Tempest is as capable for this mission as you seem to assume…then she is as capable of scouting the approaching Romulan force as well. Would it not be logical to utilize her in that capa-…?"
"Tempest will drop the sensor relay buoys and return to Centauri for defense, Commander. That is all."
T'Pol paused, failing to discern the logic there.
"I confess I do not understand…"
"You don't need to. You need to obey orders."
T'Pol's eyebrow arched immediately.
"Excuse me, Admiral. But I am not under your command."
Coleman snorted, turning slightly to Hauser. Who handed over the PADD he was holding.
"Well, you are now." He said, handing it over to her. "Orders from High Command, attaching your unit to Starfleet Intel. And from Starfleet Command, attaching it to me."
T'Pol took the PADD, evidencing surprise. And looking it over, was all the more surprised.
"This is…unexpected…" She said.
"Shouldn't be." Coleman said. "You jumped ship right in the middle of things and you're probably the only operative they still have in this system. What did you think was going to happen? They were going to arrange transportation back to Vulcan? With all of this going on?"
She ignored that. Searching the underlying data in her orders…
Then straightened up again, one hand behind her back, to stare at the Humans before her.
"There should have been an encrypted data package beneath the file containing my orders…"
"I'm afraid that got lost, Commander." Coleman smirked. "Probably from all the jamming going on in that sector."
"It contained confirmation of the orders High Command…"
"I wasn't born yesterday, Commander. It contained special orders from the Ministry of Intelligence, laying out exactly how you were to use your assignment here to benefit them. You're under my command now, not theirs. Get your head wrapped around that one right now."
T'Pol stared back at him.
"Don't worry, Commander." He sneered. "I'll have that data packet tracked down for you in no time. Shouldn't take more than a few months. While you wait, you're assigned to Tempest security. Your team will…"
"Whoa, what?" Tucker said. "What the hell, Admiral? I don't…!"
"You have a problem with my orders, Captain?" Coleman snapped.
"The Tempest…! Admiral, you can't let a Vulcan agent run around…!"
"Nobody gives a damn about Project Mayhem right now, Tucker! We're a little occupied with the war that's going on here!"
"Sir…!"
"Stow it!"
Trip's mouth snapped shut. But he remained very close to exploding again…
"Tucker, you'd better know I'm just looking for an excuse to snatch your ass off the Tempest and put someone on that bridge that's worth a damn! Now, if you want to give me that excuse, then open your damned mouth one more time! I don't care who you've got in your corner back at Command. The last person I want commanding that ship is some damned engineer who doesn't have enough sense not to get knocked up by aliens. And considering the terrorist actions we're suffering all over Coalition space, I find your association with Terra Prime more than reason enough to cut you out of this entirely."
Tucker's focus sharpened. And his vision went a little blurry and red.
But Major Tulok's hand suddenly snatching onto his shoulder surprised him enough that he jerked his attention there. And found the Vulcan had been forced to restrain him.
Because he'd stepped forward, fists clenched. Fully intending to knock the Admiral on his ass…
"Let him go, Major." Coleman snapped. "I don't mind taking one for the team. You think you've got the balls, Tucker?"
Trip glared back, teeth clenched. Fists still balled up, ready to knock the sneer off the man's face…
"Coleman." Trip seethed. "I've got friends…good friends…sitting in prison on Earth because of what I did. So don't you dare stand there and question my loyalty, you son of a bitch."
Coleman snorted. "I don't question your loyalty, Tucker. I question your judgment. And your testimony bought you a reenlistment with Starfleet. Color me unimpressed."
Trip shrugged Tulok off him then. And turned to stalk out of the room…
"I haven't dismissed you, Captain!" Coleman glowered.
"You go to hell!" Trip snapped back, over his shoulder.
And he was gone. Leaving Tulok and T'Pol to stare at one another for a moment. Amazed at all the rampant emotionality pervading the room.
Eventually T'Pol returned her attention to the Admiral, finding him smirking still. Obviously very pleased with himself.
"Commander." He said, noticing her again. And picking up a trio of PADDs from the table, to hand to her. "Looks like your commanding officer left his orders behind. Why don't you be a dear and run them out to him?"
T'Pol looked at the PADDs he held out to her. Considering whether taking them might cause another of the Humans in the room to suffer an emotional outburst. Perhaps someone would start screaming. Considering all that had just occurred, she found Human behavior far less predictable than she had only a few minutes prior.
But she took her chances and accepted the Tempest's orders. And nothing startling occurred. So she nodded to Tulok and they left the room, to try to catch up to the Captain.
Admiral Coleman and Colonel Hauser stood there alone then. Quiet for a time, while Hauser plucked up his nerve.
"Admiral…" He began.
"Don't waste my time, Hauser. Tucker's got his chance. Let's see what he does with it."
Catching up to the Captain wasn't difficult at all. He was standing in the corridor outside. With T'Lea at a respectful distance, looking tense.
T'Pol approached cautiously, of course. Still uncertain she'd understood all that had occurred in the conference room.
"I can't believe they're being so stupid." Tucker said, quietly. Shaking his head.
"What do you mean?"
"We still don't know for sure the main fleet is out there..." He said. "We don't even know for sure anything's out there. We don't need to waste time dropping a couple of sensor buoys. We need every ship in this system heading out there to meet them. They'd probably slaughter us but we'd be able to hold them off for a little while. Long enough for Command to get that confirmation and shift the fleet here for defense. I mean...if nothing's out there, then what does it matter? And if it's just a small fleet...a diversionary tactic...then we still need to hit them before they get into this system."
T'Pol thought for a moment.
"Captain," She said. "Can you not appeal to the Fleet Commander?"
"He's sitting in your home system right now. He already knows all this. The Romulans are just going to blow right through here. Right to Earth. Because Coleman doesn't trust me enough to send me out there to confirm."
"Admiral Coleman clearly has personal issues with you that are effecting his judgment."
Trip was quiet for a moment. Still and quiet.
Then he sighed. "No. He's right. I wouldn't trust me, either, if I were him."
"He mentioned an association with Terra Prime. Is this the reason...?"
"Yeah. But that was...that was a long time ago. Before they started talking about blowing things up."
The admiral had mentioned testimony as well...
"You testified against them." She guessed.
"Yeah."
T'Pol watched him. Until he turned to look back at her.
"I agree with what they stand for, T'Pol." He said. "In principle, anyway. We need to be careful what aliens we interact with and just how much. That's just common sense. And no one seems to want to recognize that anymore. That doesn't mean I'm willing to murder people over it. I'm not a damned terrorist."
T'Pol considered that as well. Then...
"Why were you willing to sacrifice your commission with Starfleet, refusing their orders concerning the Xyrillian child?"
Tucker's attention jerked to her. "What?"
"You refused to allow the child to be removed. Despite every indication that this would result in your death. And you lost your commission as a result."
Tucker stared. "I thought you didn't know about that."
"I was not aware at the time that your first name was Charles."
Now it was his turn to consider her carefully. And he did so. For a long while, before he answered.
"I killed a lot of Romulans, just two days ago." He said. "That makes me a killer. But I'm not a murderer. You see the difference there, right?"
"Perhaps." She said.
"That's not good enough." He said, shaking his head. "I don't mind talking, about whatever you like. But not that. Not unless you can give me a real answer."
"Very well. Your actions against the Romulans were in the defense of others. And in self-defense. And so, did not constitute murder."
Trip nodded. "Okay. That's why."
"Captain," She said, hesitantly. "I intend no offense but...to have the child removed would have been an act of self-defense."
"She wasn't trying to kill me. She was just trying to live. Wasn't her fault. If it was anyone's, it was Ah'len's. And mine, for being an idiot in the first place."
"You were willing to sacrifice your life for hers?"
Trip shrugged. "Of course. Wouldn't you?"
To her surprise, T'Pol found that she had to think about that. To honestly consider it carefully. Because she wasn't certain at first…
"Yes." She said, in the end. "I would have done the same."
Trip nodded.
"If you needed to talk to someone," He asked. "Where no surveillance could overhear, where would you go?"
T'Pol blinked.
What? Where had this line of inquiry come from?
"On this station, you mean?" She asked.
"Yeah. If you were on a mission here or something."
"The women's restroom."
"Huh? Why?"
"It is the least likely place on the station to be monitored, at least legally. And the presence of running water provides a ready dampener for any auditory surveillance."
"Well, I'm not going in there…"
"If you intend to meet covertly with someone…"
"Yeah, but…"
"Captain, what are your intentions?"
He was staring off into the distance now. Contemplating something…
"You're a spy, right? Think you can forge a confirmation stamp on a supply requisition?"
T'Pol blinked again.
"Excuse me?"
"A supply req. They're data stamped to confirm…"
"Yes, I am familiar with that. Why would you require a forged supply requisition?"
"Look, can you do it or not?"
"I can. However, I am…"
"Okay, meet me on the Tempest in one hour. Holo-chamber, Deck B. Get Alice to unlock if for you. Authorization phrase, 'We're gonna need a bigger boat'. Got it?"
"Captain…"
"One hour. I've got to go talk to someone."