"Interesting discussion," Trip stated as they entered their quarters.
Nodding, Jon paced the tiny space, needing to think about the facts they'd learnt over dinner. He couldn't do so along the I-95 without being interrupted by at least half of the thirteen-crew coming or going on liberty. Here, in what should be his sanctuary, Trip invaded every molecule of to the minuscule space. Worse, his lover's eyes watched Archer become more agitated with each passing second, which only served to increase his tension. The one thing Jonathan Archer knew without doubt, they'd been manipulated, again.
Or perhaps, Jon's alter ego added, it is still. Just how far up the tree does this go? All the way to Admiral Yamamoto? When was this plot conceived? All the way back when I was assigned to Captain Layton and that lecture series?
Sighing, Trip stated, "I know that look. You have some serious thinking to do without me around. I'll go to the mess, see who's about."
"Trip," Jon started half-heartedly. He hated the idea of kicking his boyfriend out of his own quarters, but there was simply no other option.
"I know what you're going to say," Tucker responded as he headed for the door, "I shouldn't have to leave my quarters so you can ponder this. It's not like you can pace in that area called a ready room. Face it, Jon, this test is about more than being able to work together, even if that's what Yamamoto wants us to think. Just ask Commodore Forest to do his homework on the class of ship he suggests next time. I'd like my own quarters, next to yours, that way I could get the engineering department to make some adjustments for situations like this."
"Such as," Jon asked, intrigued by the suggestion.
"We could use my quarters as a living room of sorts with a computer terminal each, one connected to the bridge and other to engineering so we could work from home, so to speak," Trip answered. "That way you could close the door between the areas and pace the bedroom to your hearts content, or complete reports in comfort. Hell, we might even be able to watch a game in relative comfort and privacy."
"Come here you," Jon felt his agitation falling away as Trip fell into his arms. Releasing him just as quickly, Archer ordered, "you know I love you, but get out of here Lieutenant. Tonight," shaking his head, Commander Archer didn't need to say more.
"Aye, Sir," Trip mocked.
Lt. Tucker didn't look back. Truth be known, Trip had ideas swirling in his head and needed to be tinkering with his baby to sort out the muddled thoughts. Heading for the stern of Al Biruni, the lead engineer offered a silent greeting to the crewman on duty, before bearing towards his 'office'. About an hour later, Jon ambled in and sat on the corner of his desk with a wide smile.
"I expected to you to be streaked with grease," Archer smirked mockingly. It took time to realise Lt. Tucker had just as much on his mind that needed sorting out after Captain Ricci's insinuations. Usually, when Trip's head entered that space, he needed to pull something apart, only to put it back together.
"Nope," Trip grinned in response. "I decided to put my brain into gear this time and do some research. I've been looking up cargo manifests, found something more intriguing and a hell of a lot more disturbing. You could say an answer of sorts."
"Care to share?" Jon's attention arrowed onto the screen.
Pointing out several lines of text, Trip's eyes told a story. "About what I expected when I considered the implications. It explains the vested interest from our Vulcan overlords. I have to wonder if they've done this before, with cultures on the edge of warp technology. It sure would explain a lot about their paternalistic attitude toward Humanity and Starfleet in particular. Also, why they waited until Phoenix completed the first warp flight before contacting us."
"Rare in this case really does mean rare," Jon kept his whistle low as the cogs in his mind saw the same correlations. "In a hundred years, there won't be any significant or easily mined Rhenium left on Pluto's surface. Meaning, our ability to create antimatter to power our warp engines will be severely limited, unless we find another source."
"Or a more efficient reaction, or decrease the amount we use in our warp technology," Trip agreed. "Best case scenario would be an alternative method of producing antimatter, followed by an engine that doesn't use it at all."
"I wonder," Jon's mind recalled his father's fury with the Vulcan's exacting standards, "if that's the reason for stalling our development. No," he answered the question before Trip could ask, "not so they could basically steal our Rhenium supply. My father's design, how similar is it to Vulcan warp technology?"
"Most species," Trip understood, "would take a similar developmental approach, ending up with a variation on a theme."
"Is that why are the Vulcan's so reluctant to share their warp technology? Why," Archer demanded, "they are so concerned with our engine, more especially ensuring the design is up to their exacting standards? Are they using humanity to create something they have failed to achieve?"
"We," Trip stated, "aren't bound by logic, meaning we can take a leap of faith. Makes senses, especially when you consider the deposits in the mantle are less dense and harder to mine with current technology. I'd like to share this information with my family. I'm sure Tucker Technical Industries could find a way to expediate the mining process. But, if Yamamoto's as cleaver as Ricci thinks, maybe that's just another piece of the puzzle."
"I always thought you and me, the lecture tour was fate," Jon shook his head. "I'm beginning to think it was a lot more than that. Your family's company, not to mention skill set and my father's engine. One hell of a combination. A little too convenient, if you ask me!"
"I don't care if it was," Trip stated emphatically. He understood where Jon's thoughts tended and it was not a place Tucker wanted his lover to go. "What's between you and me, Jonathan Archer, is real. No one can make a person fall in love with someone else, no matter how much exposure or how they want it. Starfleet might have been hoping for something to happen, for a friendship so they could use us more easily, but I don't think they ever envisioned what we have together. Hell, I didn't even know I could feel this much for another person. That doesn't mean the powers that be aren't above using our feelings for each other. Yamamoto already proved that fact."
"The eldest son of Tucker Technical Industries with Henry Archer's only child," Jon shook his head. "Come on, Trip, I've done enough soul searching for one night. It's time for bed before my head explodes."
"Grandpa Chuck has a saying, Jonny," Trip stood, holding out his hand, he waited for Archer to break their rules and take it. When Jonathan did, Tucker smiled wickedly. "In a situation like this, he'd say, don't get mad Trippy, get even. We make this work for us. We know Yamamoto wants you and me on that first warp five ship. He said as much. We got our destination, it's just the journey there we have to negotiate, in our favour."
"So, we get though the rest of this assignment," Archer agreed. "Go back to the complex and play the game. I don't think you're going to be the only one with a post graduate degree for long, Trip. I've got to go back to Stanford and get my Masters in Politics and Diplomacy if we're going to negotiate this to our satisfaction."
"I'll support you any way I can, Jon," Trip promised, a mischievous expression entering his twinkling blue eyes, "you know that. So will my family, and before you start on that again, they're your family now as well. I'm afraid there's no way of escaping after you faced down my mother to protect me from her hopes."
"I'm not looking forward to telling your parents about this," Archer shook his head.
"I'm not looking forward to tell Mama that we didn't get married in Singapore." When Jon's head short up, his hazel orbs asking questions, Trip chuckled. "Come on, Jonny, did you really think Mama though you were telling the truth about Pieter and Lee. She expected either it was our wedding or we'd do something impetuous and join them."
"Even after I told her you weren't ready?" Jon demanded.
"Yep," Trip responded. "It's called hope and she won't stop hoping you convince me, especially if she thinks you're ready. Next will come the demands for grandkids."
Blushing, Jon confessed, "I got that manifesto, loud and clear."
"We can let them know, unofficially," Trip suddenly had one of his shit eating grins that said he had a plan. "Not about getting married at some point in the very distant future. I'm talking about mining Rhenium and a new antimatter production system. Anything else, has to come down through authorised channels. TTI holds several Starfleet contracts. Believe me, leave the details to Dad and Jamie. If anyone can exact a price, it's those two."
"I believe you," Jon found a genuine smile gracing his lips. His hazel eyes lit up, making suggestions Trip couldn't ignore. Together they returned to their quarters, wiser and understanding there wasn't a thing they could do for the next six months trapped on a cargo ship in the middle of nowhere.
"You know, I missed the entire water polo season," Jon grumbled, dumping his kit on the floor just inside their apartment's entry. The final handover for Al-Biruni occurred three hours ago at orbital. By now, the old girl would be on her way to recycling at Jupiter shipyards, after a team of engineers looked at Trips upgrades. Archer regrated the loss of his first command already.
"Commodore Forest sent you all games," Trip responded, understanding the feeling of loss emanating off his boyfriend. They'd had their up and downs. Thankfully more ups than downs. Proved they could work together with limited space with one in command of the other professionally. They'd managed to find ways to circumnavigate their personal relationship while remaining Starfleet Officers, even if Trip had spent a night or two attempting to sleep in his minuscule office, mad as hell at Commander Archer or trying to stay out of his way. "And you made me watch them with you in that toilet sized ready room I created so you could get some work done. I know my conversation's not as stimulating as Wayne's…"
"Are you still jealous," Jon couldn't hide his pleased expression.
"You coming to the building's social tomorrow night?" Trip returned. He didn't need Jon to say a definitive 'no', his expression was enough. "Well, you got your answer."
"Not even through the door and your giving me lip already," Jon teased.
"I'll give you more than lip," Trip teased in a sudden turn around.
They were both glad to be home. Even more pleased to have space. Their opportunities for intimate time on Al-Biruniwere few and far between. Prudence required they keep their lovemaking quiet enough so the rest of the crew didn't hear them though the paper-thin walls. Jon didn't get a chance to removed his uniforms before Trip was on him. However, the younger man had ideas of his own. Archer's pleasure hit him suddenly and without much warning, his hands in his boyfriend's hair as Trips eye watched from his kneeling position.
Grinning evilly, Jon finally managed to get his clothing off. "My turn," he stated.
"Oh, no, Old Man," Trip gave him that grin that meant trouble. "This is all my show. Now, on the couch. I got a lot of time to make up."
"Yes, sir," Jon didn't bother to fight. "Whatever you say."
At least, Trip considered, this will take his mind off Al-Biruni for a while. I know Commodore Forest said you never forget your first command, just like you don't forget your first real love. Our posting proved a good experience for both of us, a journey we had to take. Now it's time to come back to reality and work on the big picture, on our ultimate goal and find out exactly who's been manipulating us and for what reason.
Jonathan Archer's relationship with Commodore Forest didn't change over the next year, even if Lt. Charles Tucker refused to express his growing antipathy toward anyone above the rank of Captain. Max's attitude toward them, both professionally and personally, never changed, on the surface, but Trip began to see behind the façade the man constantly wore. There was no doubt an almost father/son relationship existed between Forest and Archer. At times, Trip saw glimpses of the astute pollical figure behind the uniform even in their personal interactions, which only proved Commodore Maxwell Forest was Starfleet through and through.
"I'm glad you've enrolled in a master's program," Max offered a month after returning from Al Biruni. "There's going to come a time when every officer wanting to climb the ladder will need post graduate qualifications."
Trip sent a sideways glance at Jon as if to say, I told you so. You're being groomed, Jonny. Seated in Commodore Forest's dining room, his apartment situated near the Presidio, the view from the window was one Archer could only envy. Mia, Max's long-suffering wife excused herself to get the next course and gave the men a few moments alone to discuss business. Mia Forest proved to be the consummate wife for a man wanting to make Admiral.
"Promotions," Jon responded carefully, "don't come around that often after reaching my rank."
"True," Max sighed. "Nine years and you're a full Commander, Jon. The next step, becoming a Captain is enormous in terms of responsibility and recognition."
"Meaning?" Trip demanded on behalf of Archer.
"You have to distinguish yourself," the Commodore sighed, his expression turning very serious. "A master's degree is only half the equation."
"In other words," Trip stated sarcastically, "you got to get noticed. Maybe you should turn into Robinson and take life threatening risks." Both Jon and Max turned their glares on Lt. Tucker. "You know, maybe I'll be a good little wife and help Mrs. Forest with the next course, cause I sure ain't helping here." Throwing down his napkin, the engineer stalked out.
"How the hell do you do it?" Trip demanded of Mia a few moment later.
Brown eyes watched him carefully. Mrs. Forest shook her head. Leaning against a counter, she smiled. "You learn, Trip, to hold your tongue, to leave when your partner in life makes small gestures indicating he had private matters he needs to speak about, you have your own interests but most of all, you offer support while sharing a pillow at night. Great men require an even greater loved one behind the scenes. Like it or not, you're fallen for a man who'd destined to become great. If you don't like the path, then it's time to choose another one, before you no longer have the option."
"You saying your trapped in this life?" Tucker demanded.
"I'm saying," Mia Forest placed a motherly palm on the young man's cheek, "I chose this life with my eye wide open. I willingly support my husband in his efforts. He want's what you and Jon want, but has to go about achieving that goal in a proscribed and careful manner."
Nodding, Trip understood. "If he doesn't follow the party line," he sighed, "when push comes to shove, he'll find himself out in the cold."
"History," Mia opened the stasis unit and took out two plates, which she handed to Trip, "should be a great insight into human nature, a tool for learning and avoiding past mistakes. In the twenty second century we are no better than two or three hundred years ago. We continue to make the same errors, play the same games. I hope you and Jon will become more enlightened and strive for a better future."
With that, Mia Forest picked up the other plates and proceeded Trip into the dining room. "I hope everyone like's salmon," she intoned brightly.
"It's Jon favourite," Trip stated thoughtfully. But then again, I guess you already knew that. Behind every great man, is a great woman. I can't recall where I read that, but now I understand it. I also get that Jon's being groomed for something more than just Captain of the starship with his father's engine. I'm just not sure I can play the part of the little woman behind the scenes.
"Trip?" Jon questioned as they left the Forest home.
"You take the transport," Tucker suggested. "I need to walk," he added when his Jonny was about to offer company. Watching his boyfriend enter the station, Trip turned and proceeded in the other direction. Fifteen minutes later he arrived at Pieter's door. "I think I'm in trouble, Pieter. I need to talk to Lee."