— Chapter 36 —
The Enterprise was on course for Earth now, and as the ship passed Mars, Archer ordered Helm to pilot the Enterprise past the forty-two Delus ships guarding this planet, and do a close fly-by of StarFleet's Iron Mountain shipyards, which were located in geosynchronous orbit around Mars. This fly-by was a longstanding habit of Archer's, as the captain found it interesting to keep track of the shipyard's progress, for this facility was constantly expanding, even as it turned out new StarFleet vessels, or repaired ships damaged in the course of duty... however, during this particular passage Archer saw something quite unexpected, displayed on the Bridge's main video monitor.
"Full stop," said Archer.
Ensign Mayweather, manning Helm, brought the ship to a halt.
"Tactical, bring up the starboard side of the shipyards," said Archer, glancing at Lt-Commander Reed.
Reed made some adjustments on his Tactical panel and zoomed in, bringing the starboard side of the shipyards onto the video monitor.
"Zoom in on the Columbia," said Archer.
A moment later, Reed zoomed in on Archer's designated target, and as the computer brought the ship into focus, a crystal clear view of the Columbia filled the entire video monitor.
"Look at her," said Archer, to no one in particular.
Malcolm had already noted the disruptor marks on the hull of the Columbia, as well as the plasma torpedo burn-through of D Deck.
"They got lucky there, Captain," said Malcolm. That hole in D Deck must have ruined the cargo bays, but it could have been much worse."
Archer nodded, and said, "Comm, hail the Columbia."
Ensign Sato did as ordered, and a moment later a man's image was displayed on the monitor, but from the man's uniform it was clear that he was one of the shipyard's engineers.
"At your service, Captain."
Archer nodded, and said, "I was calling for Captain Hernandez."
"The entire crew of the Columbia was given leave on Earth," said the engineer, "in celebration of their victory, as well as the necessity of getting the crew out from underfoot."
"Victory?" said Archer.
"The Columbia took out a Romulan Bird-of-Prey," said the engineer. "Still, that fight made for a lot of work for us here."
"Than don't waste time talking to me," said Archer. "Thanks."
"Are you certain that this will be all right, Commander Tucker?" said T'Fel, looking uncertainly at Trip as she strapped herself into one of the shuttle's passenger seats. "Surely we are imposing."
"And I say that you're not," said Trip. "Listen, Thanksgiving is a big holiday in the USA, a holiday which should be spent with family, and since your family is back on Vulcan, you have nowhere to go. What's more, my parents will be thrilled to meet you and Ayvok, and they already know the captain. Trust me, you'll have a good weekend with us."
"He's right, T'Fel," said Erika. "You'll all have fun with Trip's family. They're a bunch of oddballs, but they're good people just the same."
"Oddballs?" said Trip, turning on Erika.
"Well," said Erika, "Uncle Dean has a Doctorate in Philosophy, but he breeds exotic cats for a living."
"Well, it's hard to make a living with a philosophy degree," said Trip, "and he makes a killing in exotic cats."
"Well, how about your aunt Peg, a Nurse Practitioner who takes payment in arts, crafts and artisan foods," said Erika, "and if I recall correctly, your mother was on vision quest the last time I was there!"
"Your point?" said Trip, a grin on his face.
Erika laughed, and said, "Nothing. I have no point. In any case, I know for a fact that Ayvok will have a good time with Trip's dad."
"How can you be so certain of that fact, Captain?" said Ayvok.
"Trip's father retired from the U.S. Marine Corps as a three-star Lieutenant-General," said Erika. "You guys can talk weapons, tactics and strategy to your heart's content."
"Oh, that does sound enjoyable," said Ayvok, quite pleased at the prospect of talking shop with a fellow professional.
Paxton had just ended a Skype call with one of his lawyers, and looking at the time he realized he had to be elsewhere soon, so without further ado, Paxton grabbed his jacket and headed for the hotel's bank of elevators. After a brief wait, Paxton stepped into an elevator and pressed the appropriate button to convey him to the lobby, though the elevator paused briefly at the twentieth floor to board a passenger, a man in his mid-50s and wearing a decent suit, probably a doctor, or a lawyer, in Paxton's estimation.
The elevator began moving once more, but the newcomer reached over and pressed the stop button, halting the elevator between floors, and Paxton looked at the man curiously.
"You can't just stop the elevator like that," said Paxton. "It's between floors right now. You can't get off."
"I know that, Mr. Paxton."
"How do you know my name?" said Paxton. "Who are you?"
"My name is Harris, and I want a few moments of your time."
"I don't have any time to spare," said Paxton.
Paxton reached past Harris to press the lobby button once more and get the elevator moving, but Harris pushed Paxton backwards, roughly enough to make his point.
"Make time," said Harris.
"Fine," said Paxton, more annoyed than anything, for if the man wished him ill, he wouldn't waste time talking. "What do you want?"
"This little project you've got going," said Harris, "to isolate Earth from other species, it's coming at a bad time. These Romulans will not stop their attacks against Earth. At best they'll merely pause them while they finish off the Vulcans, and then they'll turn on us."
"You don't know that," said Paxton, "and what I do is none of your business."
"Actually it is my business," said Harris, "and I'm warning you to step back from this whole thing, and stop stirring the pot."
With his message delivered, Harris pressed the lobby button and the elevator began moving once more.
"And if I don't?" said Paxton.
Harris said nothing, though the man's smile troubled Paxton.
"You know you've passed a dozen cameras by now, right?" said Paxton.
"Every camera in the building is down at the moment," said Harris, "and its going to be hard to pull fingerprints given that I'm wearing gloves.
"Who's paying you?" said Paxton. "I'm a wealthy man, Harris. I can make it worth your while to work with me... for me."
"Do the smart thing here, Paxton, or my next message will be delivered in a more forceful manner."
Paxton paled a bit at that, for Harris' warning was clear.
Hours after they'd all reached the Tucker's house in Florida, T'Fel headed for the large garage at the back of the house with a glass of iced tea in hand, for although it was close to the end of November, this was Florida and the temperatures were still in the low 80s. She soon turned the corner of the building and peeked inside the large six car garage that was truly more a workshop than a garage, only to see Trip dressed in nothing but faded jeans draped over motorcycle boots, and the sight of the man's bare torso was an agreeable sight to T'Fel.
"Hey," said Trip, having noticed T'Fel peeking into the garage.
"Your mother made some iced tea," said T'Fel, passing the glass to Trip. "The label on the box named it Red Zinger tea. An herbal tea."
"Thanks," said Trip, after which he tasted the tea and nodded approvingly.
"You are welcome," said T'Fel, looking casually around the garage.
"Let me guess. All that trivial chatter at the hen party is driving you crazy," said Trip, for his mother, his sister Elizabeth, Erika and his cousin Bonnie were all chatting up a storm as he'd passed through the house earlier. "It's really not a Vulcan thing, is it?"
"No, it's not that," said T'Fel, eyes running over Trip's bare chest once more, "I was just curious to see what you are doing out here."
"Well, come see," said Trip, and led T'Fel inside the garage.
"That's my father's car, an antique Shelby Cobra," said Trip pointing out a glossy black car with aggressive curves to it's body work, "and that's my classic Ducati motorcycle."
"They are beautiful vehicles," said T'Fel.
"They run on gasoline, which is a niche product these days," said Trip, "but they have more soul than electric vehicles."
"What are you doing out here?" said T'Fel. "Do they need repairs?"
"No," said Trip, setting the tea aside in order to search for his keys. "I was getting ready to go down to the marina, take the boat out on the water for a while. You want to come with me?"
The idea of riding a motorcycle intrigued T'Fel for it was something which she'd never done before, but the thought of being out on the open ocean practically terrified the desert bred Vulcan, yet despite the fear, she never hesitated...
"Yes, I do. I would like that, Trip."
"Great," said Trip, while slipping a shirt over his head. "Let me have another sip of that tea, before we leave."
"Oh, yes," said T'Fel, and then reached for the glass which was well within her reach, and passed it to Trip once more.
"Thanks," said Trip, and after taking a drink he set the tea aside and laid hands on the Vulcan, drawing T'Fel to him, much to the Vulcan's surprise.
Since the recent night on which she'd first taught Commander Tucker a bit of the Vulcan language, they'd only had a chance to study together once more, and her plans to steal a kiss from Commander Tucker that night had been waylaid by the fact that her left calf was cramping, and painfully so.
"You just need to get a banana inside of you," had said Trip that night.
T'Fel chuckled in a typically understated Vulcan manner upon hearing that suggestion, then said, "If that means what I think it means, I do not believe that is a cure for cramps. But I applaud your willingness to consider unconventional treatments."
"No, I mean a real banana, T'Fel. You need some potassium," had said the XO, and he'd left her cabin only to return with two bananas, which he'd insisted she eat as he massaged her calves in a most enjoyable manner: perhaps things would have moved along, but something of an emergency had popped up and required Commander Tucker's attention, and thus ended the night prematurely.
"Oh!" said T'Fel, present in the now once more, and startled by the man's impulsive act of laying hands on her.
"It's a Thanksgiving tradition, T'Fel," said Trip. "Alien visitors must be properly welcomed and appreciated."
"That is a sensible tradition," said T'Fel, hyper-ventilating a touch. "We are standing quite close, XO."
"Are we?" said Trip, drawing T'Fel closer still, until their bodies pressed against each other.
"Yes," said T'Fel, and Trip saw her cheeks color. "I can feel the heat, that is to say, the warmth coming off your body."
"Nice and toasty, eh?" said Trip with a grin, as normal Vulcan body temperature hovered around 92 degrees.
"Yes," said T'Fel, looking up at Trip. "And your scent is quite agreeable, but I am—"
"Dying for a kiss?" said Trip, and then locked lips with T'Fel for a full ten minutes, before T'Fel managed to pry her lips from Trip's.
"Problem?" said Trip, for he was enjoying the kiss immensely.
"Thirsty," said T'Fel, and chugged the rest of the tea from Trip's glass, before returning to an even longer kiss.
Eventually they stepped apart when they heard Trip's father coming down to the garage, and soon afterwards Trip and T'Fel departed the house on Trip's motorcycle for a tour of the island on the way to marina… and for what it was worth, T'Fel found the motorcycle ride enjoyable, as she pressed herself tightly to Trip's back, out of necessity, and desire.
They followed the motorcycle ride with an exciting boat ride, T'Fel delighted beyond belief at the friendly dolphins and seals which swam alongside the boat for miles… better yet, the ocean did not frighten T'Fel in the least so long as Trip was by her side, and after the boat ride was over, they shared a bottle of sake on the beach as they watched the sun set, and the waves roll in, while the two talked for hours like the best of friends, until night fell.
"Morning, Trip," said Erika the next day, as Trip stumbled into the kitchen on Thanksgiving morning.
The house was quiet and Trip's eyes still half shut, as he and Erika were the first people to wake this morning.
"Morning, Princess," said Trip.
"Princess?!" said Erika, mustering up a healthy dose of faux outrage, for she'd been friends with Trip a long time, and the man had called her worse monikers than Princess in that time.
"Captain," said Trip, yawning now. "I meant Captain."
"I should think so," said Erika. "Princess indeed!"
"Why are you up so early?" said Trip. "I thought you captains liked to lay about 'till lunch."
"We do," said Erika, "but I promised your mom that I'd go shopping with her at a farmer's market, pick up the veggies for today's feast."
"Better you than me."
"What's your plan for the day?" said Erika.
"Does lounging around in my underwear all day count as a plan?" said Trip, stealing coffee from the pot which Erika had made a few minute earlier.
"No," said Erika, and just then T'Fel stepped into the kitchen, wearing an orange Vulcan robe made of imported Risan silk, and that Risan silk did nothing but flatter the Vulcan's figure.
"Good morning," said T'Fel.
"Morning," said Erika, and Trip grunted, for the man was useless before his first cup of coffee, though he found the strength make eye contact with the Vulcan, and give her an irreverent wink.
"Good morning, T'Pol," said Archer as the Vulcan walked into his Ready Room.
"Captain," said T'Pol, setting a coffee cup on the captain's desk, while retaining her own cup of tea.
Archer & T'Pol made it a habit to discuss ship's business during breakfast in order to get a jump start on the day ahead of them, but if either of them missed breakfast, they convened in the captain's Ready Room before taking the conn from the night shift. This morning they'd indeed missed breakfast, as the captain was trying to locate Captain Hernandez.
"Thank you, T'Pol."
T'Pol gave the man a slight nod and then moved past him to look out the window at the planet below, and said, "How is the day shaping up?"
Archer was about to reply to T'Pol's question, when the nightshift Comm officer reached out to the captain.
"Yes," said Archer.
"HQ had a contact number for Captain Hernandez, sir. Should I connect you?"
Archer debated the matter briefly as it was only 0730, but Erika had always been an early riser, so Archer said, "Please."
The comm line suddenly buzzed in the Tucker household, and given that most of the house was still asleep and Trip had shuffled outside to drink his coffee while watching the waves rolling in, well that just left Erika or T'Fel to answer the call.
The two women had been sharing a juicy Florida orange and chatting amiably when the call came, and given that Erika was the ranking officer, the Human pressed the remote and a 22" wall mounted monitor came to life, displaying Jon in his Ready Room, with T'Pol behind him, as the Vulcan stared out the port hole as if sagely contemplating the meaning of life.
"Morning, Jon," said Erika. "How are you?"
"I'm all right, Erika," said Jon, taking note of the lovely Vulcan seated next to Erika, and both seated in a kitchen that seemed vaguely familiar. "What happened to your comm unit? I tried calling, but got no answer, so I finally had to run you to ground through HQ."
"I lost my comm unit yesterday," said Erika. "HQ is sending me another by express post. I should have it later today."
"Oh, I see," said Archer. "Where are you?"
"I'm in Florida," said Erika, and with that she saw T'Pol turn round to look into the monitor as well. "Hi, T'Pol."
"Hello, Captain," said T'Pol, taking note of Erika, and the attractive Vulcan seated next to her.
"This is T'Fel," said Erika, by way of explanation, having noted T'Pol's glance. "She's temporarily assigned to the Columbia, until the Vulcan equipment we've installed during our upgrades is sorted out."
"So what are you two doing in Florida?" said Jon.
"Trip invited T'Fel, Ayvok and myself to spend the Thanksgiving holidays with his family," said Erika. "It was the best offer on the table, so we jumped at it."
Jon understood Erika's choice to go. They'd both been quests of Trip's family before, and Jon knew that Trip's family was great. Just then, Trip stepped into the kitchen to refill his coffee cup, and caught sight of Jon.
"Hey, Captain," said Trip, not seeing T'Pol, for the girl knew angles better than a pool shark and had stepped back into the shadows and off camera the moment that Trip had entered the room. "We strap the feedbag on at noon, and then again at 7pm, and then we'll be gorging for the rest of the weekend too. You and Malcolm should come."
"I wish I could, Trip," said Jon. "Your mom's a great cook, but Admiral Forrest is expecting T'Pol and I at his house for Thanksgiving feast, after which we're talking shop. I'll pass the invite on to Malcolm."
"Fair enough," said Trip. "Good talking to you."
With that Trip refilled his cup and ambled out onto the back patio to once more resume his commune with nature, while Jon continued chatting with Erika for a while, but T'Pol heard none of it. As soon as she'd seen Commander Tucker step into the kitchen, she'd pressed herself against the hull and outside the camera's view, her heart racing. The man's effect on her was becoming a damned nuisance.
Worse yet, Commander Tucker had pressed himself between Captain Hernandez and T'Fel in order to be seen by Jon, and he'd pressed his body against the captain's with a casual disregard that hinted at an overly familiar relationship with one's commanding officer… as for T'Fel, she hadn't even had the decency to draw her chair back when Commander Tucker pressed against her either. What the hell was going on aboard the Columbia?!
Thanksgiving dinner was everything the Vulcans had expected, for they'd done their proper research upon being invited here by the XO, and neither Vulcan was surprised when a fat, stuffed, deep fried and golden skinned avian was plopped right at the center of the table, though the Tuckers had been more than considerate enough to have a dozen or so vegetarian dishes for them all to share.
What happened next was breathtaking!
After a stirring speech which lasted all of twenty seconds, the elder Tucker performed the functional and ceremonial task of cutting that avian apart as the Humans passed their plates his way, and then the feast began in earnest. All together, there were nine Humans in attendance and under their concerted onslaughts that giant avian was speedily reduced to bones over the course of three hours, and at the end of it all, there were groans and moans in abundance, even as the tabletop took on the appearance of a disaster zone, littered with soiled and abandoned dishes.
"I have never seen anyone or anything tear an avian apart that quickly," said Ayvok, "and I have seen Klingons eat before."
The laughter which began with Trip swelled as all the Humans joined in, and the mighty roar lasted for all of ninety seconds, before the mass of food in in their bellies apparently demanded that the Humans spread about the house, laying down atop any horizontal surface, in order to allow the process of digestion to begin the work of assimilation.
"Rest up, and help yourselves to some antacids," said Trip's mother. "We eat again in four hours."
The following three days of leave were a wonder of sunshine, pleasant temperatures and lots of good fellowship for the crewmen of the Columbia, as well as a few dozen stolen moments between Trip and T'Fel.
It would be fair to say, thought T'Fel, that the XO's tongue has spent more time dancing in my mouth, than resting in his own, during this holiday. Not that I'm complaining.
All in all, it was a great Thanksgiving holiday for everyone, and it was a holiday during which Ayvok got kissed as well, for as the crewmen were readying to make their departure, Trip's sister, Elizabeth, planted a kiss on each of Ayvok's cheeks, cultural expectations be damned: but then Ayvok was a handsome devil, and Elizabeth had a logical excuse for her misdeed.
"For good luck against the Romulans, Ayvok," said Elizabeth, and Ayvok nodded agreeably.