Tempest
Hammerhead Class Frigate (NC-114)

Lieutenant Shran entered sickbay in a huff. Just to be sure anyone in there who might notice her arrival would see that she was in a huff. And leave her the hell alone.

She made straight for Ensign James' bed, once she spotted him.

"Ensign," She said, arriving briskly. And glaring. "You look very comfortable. How nice for you."

Ensign James looked confused. "Wha...ma'am?"

"You have work to do, Ensign. When will you be getting back to that?"

James stared, wide-eyed. A little overwhelmed.

"Do I need to speak more slowly?" She snapped. "Smaller words, perhaps?"

"I…I broke my leg, ma'am!" He said, finally.

"That leg is Starfleet property. You should be written up on charges for breaking it. But I'll settle for your getting back to work some time before we're decommissioned..."

"Lieutenant Shran!"

And...of course. Doctor Andrews, across the recovery room. Now she had him to deal with.

So she turned to face his approach. And intensified her glare a good bit.

She could see how this was going to go. She should never have come in here. This was just going to get…messy…

"Lieutenant, Ensign James is in recovery…" Andrews said, trying to appear both stern and conciliatory. And managing it. She hated it when he did that.

"I can see that, Doctor." Talla snapped. "It's a very comfortable bed. It's wonderful how you've made his recovery so luxurious…"

"He's been through quite a lot, Lieutenant. It would better…"

"It would be better if he returned to work, instead of lounging here while the ship is in need of repair."

"Not until he's recovered!"

"I'm sure the rest of his team wishes they could…"

Talla stopped. And snapped her stupid mouth shut.

Because she'd forgotten. She'd intended to say something about the bed again. Maybe how the rest of his team would like have a nice holiday. Something like that.

But James had lost his team. All of them. On the shuttle.

She closed her eyes tightly for a moment. She needed to. She had to struggle a bit with the loathing of what she'd just said, right in front of James. After chewing him out the way she had…

"Lieutenant…"

Talla opened her eyes. And cleared her throat.

"Excuse me, Doctor." She said, quietly.

"Lieutenant, I think it's time we talked about…"

"No. I mean 'excuse me'." She said. "Go away. Leave. I have to talk to Ensign James."

"I don't think that's wise…"

"I didn't ask."

Ensign James cleared his throat now. And spoke up.

"It's alright, sir." He said, shifting in his bed a little. Sitting up a bit more.

Andrews looked back and forth between the two. Frowning.

"Lieutenant Shran," He said, after a moment. "James is…"

"Recovering. Yes, I remember twenty seconds ago, when you said that."

Andrews heaved a quick, hard sigh. Asserting himself, finally.

"If you disturb or upset him in any way, I'll have security escort you out of sickbay, Lieutenant. Forcefully."

Talla smirked, and snorted. "How many?"

Andrews' eyes widened a little.

"All of them, if I have to." He insisted. "And I'll help, if needs be."

Andrews was glaring at her now. Which was actually preferable to his sugar-coating everything, as he was wont to do. So she smirked back at him. Just to be sure he knew he hadn't intimidated her.

And really, she could use a good tussle right about now anyway.

"Go away, doc." She said, nodding her head in the general direction of…somewhere else.

With a final sigh, through his nose…almost a growl…he turned and left. Shoulders tensed, medical PADD held tightly in one hand at his side.

He was pretty mad. Which was kind of funny.

But…James.

So she took a breath, let it out and looked at the floor for a minute. Trying to switch gears here. Redirect plasma flow from the drive coils. Tamp the generators down a hair or two.

You know, stop being such a bitch for second.

"Ensi-…James." She said. "I'm sorry. That was out of line."

"It's alright, ma'am."

Talla smirked again, looking over at him now.

"It's not actually."

"I understand, ma'am."

"No…you don't. And I'm sorry. And that's twice I've said that, so you ought to write it down or something."

James grinned a little. So that was good.

Well, not good, really. But…good. Or…well…

Yes, so this was messy. She hated messy.

"So, how's the leg?"

James sighed. "Well…it's broken. Broken pretty well, in fact, ma'am. You should see the scans. You'd be impressed."

"You're trying to impress me, Ensign?"

"Always, ma'am."

"Good boy." She nodded. "Keep at it. Maybe one day."

James smiled openly now. At ease, comfortable again. Amused.

And that was compelling. She wanted more of that. Which was very bad.

So she hardened her eyes again, having noticed then that she was smiling. After an Andorian fashion, anyway…

Messy, messy business…

"Ma'am…we all understand. We don't mind if you have to…"

"What?"

"I mean…I know it's hard for you. So…we understand that…"

"What are you talking about, Ensign?"

James looked at her. On the sly, clearly trying to determine if he'd said too much.

Talla's eyes narrowed.

"We did a little research." He said, having decided to plow on ahead. "You lost your…shapla, I think? Anyway, your…mates, or family, just a couple of months ago. So we know that…"

Talla turned her head, staring off across the bay. Her mouth slightly agape in wonder.

Unbelievable…

"You little pinkskin bastards…" She said, lightly.

"We were just worried." James rushed to explain. "It was obvious something was…"

Talla slapped a hand down on the bedrail sharply.

The thump was pretty loud. And, of course, Andrews jerked his head around to glare at her.

So she glared right back for a second. To keep him from coming over.

Then she turned that glare on James.

"Thank you, Ensign." She said, flatly. "That was quite thoughtful. Your concern is touching."

James eyed her uncertainly.

"Are…you being sarca-?"

"Yes." She snapped. "That is not something we're going to talk about. And you're not going to talk about it. None of you are. Ever. Don't even think about it. And if you have a dream where you consider thinking about it, you will wake up and apologize. Without specifying what you're apologizing for, as that would constitute talking about it. Are you understanding me, Ensign?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good."

Talla turned her glare toward the wall, then. Figuring he'd had enough of that. And she really shouldn't be glaring at him anyway.

He'd lost his team. And broken his leg. And yet here they were talking about her problems…

She shook her head, sighing.

"You boys make it very hard not to love you sometimes." She said.

"Sorry, ma'am."

"Oh, shut up."

"Yes, ma'am."

She sighed again. And she'd sighed far too much since she came into this room.

But…

Well, she was tired. So to hell with it.

Just for a minute, to hell with it.

She let herself relax a little bit. And sat down on the bed. Carefully, so as not to disturb the leg.

And she put one hand on James' unbroken leg. Affectionately. Just a little.

"A shapla is a thing, Ensign." She said, softly. "The equivalent of a wedding ring, I think. But considering what it symbolizes, I suppose that's close enough."

James didn't say anything. But he relaxed a little, which was fine.

"It's been a bad couple of days, hasn't it?" She asked, softly.

James smiled tightly, and nodded.

"Yes, ma'am."

Talla nodded as well. Because, yes it certainly had.

"I couldn't believe it, when I heard." She said, quietly. "About the shuttle, I mean."

James nodded. "Yeah."

"I can't imagine." She said.

They were quiet for a while. She held her hand on his knee. Just being there. And he lay back into the upright section of the medical bed. Remembering…

And after a while…

"You know, I barely knew those guys." James said. "We never really had a chance to…I don't even know Shelby's first name."

Talla listened, saying nothing. Keeping her antennae still, even, as she knew that could be distracting for Humans.

"I mean…you'd think we'd have hung around sometime. We've been on the ship together for six months. But…you're not supposed to fraternize with the NCO's…"

Talla nodded. And listened, as James went on.

And they talked for a while, once he started opening up enough.

It was bad. It was very, very bad for her. However wonderful it might have felt.

But he needed it. So she let it happen.

Trip found T'Pol waiting for him in the holo-chamber, just like he'd said. Which, really, was a relief. On the hike over he'd kind of started thinking maybe she wouldn't be there. She still seemed…unpredictable somehow, when he stopped and thought about it.

"Hey." He said, stepping in and tapping the panel to slide the door shut behind him.

She turned, her face blank as a slate. Which caused him a second's pause. What, we're back to that now? What gives?

"Captain." She said, evenly. "You wished to discuss something covertly?"

"Uh, yeah…" He frowned, irritably. "But I kinda forgot to get our orders from the Admiral, so I'll need to…"

She was holding a set of PADD's out to him, that she'd pulled from her jacket.

"Oh." He said, surprised. "Huh."

Right. Unpredictable.

He eyed her critically as he accepted them. Then grinned.

"You know," He said, still grinning, and waggling the PADDs at her as well. "You're pretty handy, Commander."

Her eyebrow popped up at that one. Eyeing him up and down one good time.

"Is that intended to be complimentary?" She asked, coldly.

Trip smirked. "Yeah, that's a compliment."

"I was uncertain, considering the wording." She said, stiffly.

"Well, I'm not going to ask what you thought I meant…" He said, already digging through his orders for the one he wanted. And glancing back behind him to be sure the door he'd just closed was, in fact, closed.

Then it hit him. So he looked back up at her.

"Wait. What did you think I meant?"

"I am Vulcan, Captain. To suggest I that I was 'handy' would be considered an insult."

"How?"

"It would suggest that I am…touchy. That I engage in physical contact too casually…"

"Oh."

And, oh.

For a Vulcan that would be…well, kinda slutty maybe. Or something.

T'Pol was staring at him.

"That's not what I meant." He said, quickly.

"Of course." She said.

Oh yeah, she was still a little frosty there...

"Okay, uh…here." He said, offering her a PADD. Now more to change the subject than anything else. And he made sure their fingers didn't touch or anything in the process.

She looked it over…it was a supply requisition form. Already filled. And judging from the items delineated, combined both the supplies they were to transport to the Enterprise and those assigned to the Tempest herself.

"Now, everything's all together there." He said. "All on one form. Which means it's going to be a hassle for Central Supply to deal with. And that's good for us."

"In what way?" She asked, looking up at him.

"'Cause we can stick whatever else we like in there and no one will bother double checking it. Not unless they notice later on that there was something weird in there."

"And you intend to insert 'something weird'?"

Trip shrugged uncertainly. "Well…something I'd think was weird, if I worked in Supply. Maybe not, though. I'm sure they see a lot of weird supply reqs come through there."

"What do you intend to add to this form, Captain?"

"That depends on whether you can hack it and forge another stamp on it once you do. Can you?"

T'Pol pulled her own PADD from her pocket, tucking the Starfleet one under her arm to free both hands. In only a few seconds she had the cover plucked off, had pulled some sort of wire loose in there and switched it over to something else. Then replaced the cover, retrieved the Starfleet PADD and had the two connected by their external ports. Making one wide PADD out of it, that she held with one hand.

Then tapped for maybe three or four seconds at the Vulcan side of the thing before looking back up at him.

"Very well. Proceed."

Trip glanced back and forth between her and the double-PADD thing she was holding for a second.

"You hacked it already?"

"Yes."

Trip blinked.

"You hacked it already." He said, to be absolutely clear here.

T'Pol's eyebrow popped up, to make clear he was wasting her time with all this…

"Right." He said, off balance. "Yeah, okay…uh…we need about, uh…"

He fumbled with the PADDs in his hands, trying to retrieve and make room for his own, from his uniform pocket. Then spent a moment scrolling through something there…

"About one thousand Thor orbital anti-armor rounds and one thousand mining rig laser rods." He said, reading from his PADD. "That's item number 17084B and 23905A, stock number 16-01Z and 354-98G."

T'Pol tapped away busily at the PADD.

"And three one hundred-megaton fission warheads. That's item 01045B and stock 27-47G. And three AGM-44 Wasp missiles. 29055K and 71-44E."

T'Pol tapped the items into her PADD without question.

Then looked up at the Captain. With the eyebrow.

"Yeah, I know." He said, smiling shyly.

"The munitions are MACO ground assault ordnance." She said. "They serve no useful purpose in space combat."

"Well, we'll see about that." He smirked.

"And nuclear missiles are extremely ineffective, comparatively, when you have photon torpedoes available…"

"Look, just trust me. We used to play with this at the Academy all the time. Well, in simulations anyway..."

"Play with what?"

"It's…look, let's just get everyone together first." Trip said. "I honestly don't know if I have to nerve to go over this more than once."

T'Pol returned her attention to the PADD.

"One moment." She said, tapping away at it for a while. Then disconnecting the two, pocketing her own and handing the Starfleet PADD to him.

Trip looked it over.

"Huh." He said. "That's…pretty good. And quick."

"Of course." She said.

Well, okay then…

"Alright, that's only half of it." Trip said, frowning. "Getting the supply req through is one thing. And most of this stuff is loaded on shipping pallets automatically. Getting the actual gear through forward inspection is the hard part."

"The supply officers there can be expected to examine the equipment critically at the forward shipping platform."

"Uh…that's right."

T'Pol waited patiently, hands comfortably folded at her back. Waiting for him to get to 'the hard part'.

"Okay, I've got to ask." He said, fretfully. "Have you had to…? I mean, did you ever…?"

"Forge supply requisitions and smuggle Starfleet munitions through inspection?"

"Yeah, that."

"No."

Trip studied her, eyes narrow.

"You sure? Because that sure looked like something…"

"Captain, if I had ever done such a thing, I would never admit to it."

"So you have."

"Certainly not."

Trip fidgeted a bit.

If he was ever going to figure out how to get a straight answer out of this woman…

"You do know that if you had, and you admitted it to me, there wouldn't be much I could do about it?"

"I would assume not. Unless I were to provide details specific enough that you could effectively render charges, which I would not do."

"So why don't you just admit it then?"

"Admit what?"

"That you've done this before."

"Violate Starfleet and United Earth laws concerning…?"

"Yes, T'Pol. That."

"I have never done that."

Trip stared. Gritting his teeth a little.

"Okay, fine. I give up."

"That is wise."

"Let's just go."

Stepping out into port corridor, Deck B, Trip's PADD immediately chirped. He ignored it at first, still wrestling with his frustration over this aggravating Vulcan's habit of completely getting over on him every other time he…

But, wait, yeah. That was probably important.

So he took the opportunity to sigh, expelling a little of his frustration before giving it a glance. Expecting someone had sent him a text update. Or maybe some reminder he'd posted in there for himself a few weeks ago to double check maintenance logs for…

Whoa. What the hell?

His attention snapped to T'Pol, who was just shutting the holo-chamber behind him.

"Uh…Alice?" He said.

"Yes, Trip?"

"How long have you been online?"

"One hour, seventeen minutes."

T'Pol was looking at him now. With that stone-cold face again.

"And what's this report on my PADD, Alice?"

"Trip or Commander T'Pol instructed me…"

"Wait." He said, quickly. "'Trip or Commander T'Pol'? Which one?"

"I am only aware of one Trip or Commander T'Pol, Trip."

Trip's eyes flittered back and forth for a second, trying to figure that one out.

"Captain," T'Pol said. "I believe Alice adapted to my possession of your override authorization by assigning me a dual identity. If you will review the report, you will see that this apparently granted me your computer override authority as a result. I instructed Alice to report this to you once I left the holo-chamber, and to revert my access level and identity to their previous state at that time."

Trip was already rubbing his forehead, eyes closed.

"Okay. For crying out loud…" He said. "Alice, offline. T'Pol…I probably should have warned you. You can't leave Alice online like that."

"You cannot? Why?" She asked, curiously.

Trip started scrolling through the report Alice had forwarded to him. Studying it carefully.

"Because she's a language processor." He explained, as he read. "So she's constantly expanding that root language she thinks in. The more you interact with her and the more input she receives, the more she has to expand. So she needs lots of time offline to process all that. Leave her online long enough and she'll eventually start burning out the system. That happened once already. Wasn't pretty."

T'Pol found herself…disquieted by that. Artificial intelligence programs had consistently proven unstable in practice. And Alice seemed more and more to constitute that very thing. At the least, one step too far in that direction.

The Humans should already know this. Vulcans had long since given up the attempt to develop one. It was her understanding that Humans had as well…

"Like this." Trip said, pointing at his PADD. "When she told you it was 'logical' to assign you this 'Trip/T'Pol' identity."

T'Pol's eyes widened slightly.

"I'd have to ask Song, but she probably ran through the whole Vulcan language the last time she talked to you. Picked up the base language matrix there and started talking to you in Vulcan. Except…Vulcan that she translated into her root programming language, then into English Standard. And then that's adapted to each person she talks to. So you can imagine how that adds a whole new layer to just about every bit of processing she does now…"

"She included a transcript in her report?"

"Huh?" Trip said, glancing at her. "Uh…yeah. Why?"

"I…was simply curious."

"Oh. Well," He said, after a second quick look. "The point is, when she goes offline she can adjust her root language. Kind of like defragging her hard drive or something. Anyway, she runs a lot smoother if you take her offline when she isn't needed."

"I see. I will be sure to do that from now on."

"Well, Operations checks at the beginning of each shift to be sure she's offline. But, yeah, it'd be better if you did. Actually, it'd be better if we could figure out how to get her to do that herself, but she doesn't seem to get it."

T'Pol nodded. Hoping to encourage him to continue focusing on interacting with her. Rather than reading the report.

But he returned his attention to it.

"Captain." She said, quickly. "You indicated that you intended to meet with the senior staff. And you have orders from Admiral Coleman to review."

"Right." Trip said, distracted.

Still reading the report. With the transcript attached to it.

T'Pol struggled for a moment, trying to determine some subtle method of pulling his attention away. Before…

Then he suddenly thumbed the PADD, tucking into his uniform pocket.

"Okay, you go get your intel team together and meet me in the conference room. I'll get the senior staff up there and then we'll all go over our…well, as much as I hate to say 'battle plan', I guess that's what we're doing."

"Captain…the report I asked Alice to forward to you…"

"Oh, don't worry about that. Alice doesn't handle security around here. Just my personal stuff. And my PADD, which yeah, I guess I ought to pull her off of. The holo-chamber thing was just for fun. We don't do anything but training sims in there."

T'Pol looked confused.

"Alice threatened to notify security at one point."

"Well…yeah…but they probably would have just laughed at you when they got here. Although, Benning would have probably thrown you in the brig, come to think of it, just for trying to break into something."

"I see. I thought…the holographic technology in evidence in the chamber…"

Trip suddenly got it. And grinned.

"T'Pol," He chuckled. "I'm sorry, I guess I didn't realize."

"What do you mean?"

"That's not secure. I wasn't serious about…well, before when…look, you can scan that all you like. Vulcan High Command really does already have access to that stuff, so I don't care."

T'Pol stared at him.

"You have expressed concerns on more than one occasion…"

"Okay, look. There are some things on this ship you're not going to be allowed to poke around at. Even if you are technically assigned to us. I'm sorry, but that's just how it is. Most of our crewmen don't have access to that stuff."

"If the holographic technology is not what you were concerned I would access…then I am unaware of anything else that…"

Now Trip was staring at her. Smirking slightly. Humored.

So. Of course.

She had never been presented the opportunity to be aware of…that.

"If not the holography, then what…?"

"The first rule of Project Mayhem is you do not ask questions, T'Pol."

That was…frustrating. She suppressed it, of course, but…it was there…

"Look, I'm sorry. I know that's frustrating…"

T'Pol almost twitched.

"…and I guess it may not matter in the end. If I'm right, you'll get to see it soon enough. But, honestly, let's hope it doesn't come to that. Because if it does, it means we're in big trouble."

"How big?"

"Well…big enough that I'd have to ask Alice for a word with more syllables than 'big'…"

"Considerable."

"Well…maybe something with a little more threat to it…"

"Apocalyptic?"

"…okay, yeah. Something like that."

Song was going over the casualty report confirmation when the far right display screen on the console blinked, trying to get her attention. And she didn't mind one bit, considering the grim business that form represented.

As ridiculous as it was to have to confirm that, yes, she was serious when she'd reported those twelve men were actually dead…well, yes, it did actually have to be done. She supposed someone, somewhere, must have accidentally submitted the wrong list to the wrong office at one point or another. And she was sure there must be a joke about that floating around somewhere in the universe.

Tapping the display over there to bring it into view turned out be a good thing, though. The Tempest was topped off on deuterium and associated necessities. They'd even stocked the galley, it looked like. The last of the munitions and other secure gear hadn't been shipped yet, still waiting on the Captain to submit the reqs. But the engineering crew from Celestial was reporting they were down to the wiring, practically.

Heck, they might actually break dock sometime in the next few hours. That was pretty good.

The bridge door opened behind her, but she didn't pay it any attention. Probably a steward delivering a snack to someone, as everyone up here but her had been on duty for at least eight hours…

"This is the bridge. I know it's dumb but I'm actually required to show you where it is when I tell you you're not allowed in here."

Um…what?

Song turned around. Commander Benning and Major Tulok, the Vulcan agent.

"Benning." Song said. "I thought I told you to hit the bunk. And, not to be rude or anything, but what's he still doing on my ship?"

"Commander," Benning said, frowning. "Let me introduce Major Tulok. Our newest security officer."

Song cocked her ear at the Tactical Officer. "I'm sorry, what now?"

Benning just held up the PADD he was holding. Holding it up for review…

Song tossed an eyebrow up. For emphasis.

"You're kidding." She said.

Benning just shrugged, smiling slightly.

"Who's bright idea…?"

"Coleman."

Song's eyes rolled up a bit, and she groaned. As if someone had hit her with something stupid. Which, really, someone had.

"Benning…" She groaned.

"Not my fault, Song."

"Does the Captain know?"

"He hasn't ordered us to fire on the station, so…I don't know."

Song huffed a little, frowning and looking back and forth between the two men.

Then held up a hand. "Fine. Introduce him to Sisco and get him off the bridge."

"You got it." Benning grinned, turning to Tulok. "Come on this way, Major."

"Who is Sisco, Commander?" Tulok asked.

"That's the shiny new badge on your belt. Shipboard Security and Communications…"

"Captain to the Bridge."

Song quickly tapped her shiny badge…

"Song, go ahead."

"I've got secure reqs on the board. Submit them to Central Supply and recall the crew. Then meet me in the conference room. Captain, out."

Song glanced over at Benning. And they shared a look.

Because, yeah, that was a little…abrupt…

"And that's what it's for." Benning said, turning back to Tulok. "It's like a portable intercom system. With a built-in universal translator and personal locator…"

"This is the captain. Alpha shift senior officers, report to the conference room. Major Tulok and Subaltern T'Lea, report as well. That is all."

Song got to her feet quickly, standing at the console to submit those reports and call the crew back aboard. Ready to dash to the conference room when she was done.

Behind her Benning had started frowning again.

"Song, I get the feeling…"

"Yup, shore leave's over alright."