The captain seldom called them into the situation room for anything. It was a cramped room with a long table and almost too many computers. It was used very infrequently because of those conditions, and because of that, when the senior officers had been informed that a briefing would take place there, most of them had the feeling that it would be concerning something quite out of the ordinary. That explained why when Phlox and Archer walked into the room, the officers were already assembled, several minutes early, and had looks of expectation on their faces, excluding, of course, only the Vulcan science officer.
Commander Tucker, who was holding a cup of steaming coffee, nodded to the captain and asked, "Is it true that we're meeting up with a Vulcan ship this morning?" He was never one to mince words.
"Did you bring enough coffee for everyone, commander?" asked Archer as Trip brought the mug up to take a sip.
"I just grabbed this on my way up here. Everybody else'll just have to get their own." he answered.
"We will rendezvous with the Seleya, a Vulcan cruiser, in a few hours. Then we will proceed to the Ohniaka star system and science station three." said Archer, answering Trip's original question.
"Isn't that a long way behind us?" asked the engineer, although the others were having similar thoughts.
"No one else can do this."
"What is our mission?" inquired Sub-commander T'Pol.
"Medical relief to the station. They are having a serious outbreak there. Without assistance, everyone serving on the station will probably die." said Archer, explaining the rudiments of the situation. "We are picking up additional personnel from the Seleya." he added.
"At our fastest warp the Enterprise could not reach the facility in two weeks, three days, and ..." T'Pol began to say, giving her calculations without any prompting.
"You're suggesting that we won't make it in time, T'Pol?" asked Captain Archer, cutting her before either Commander Tucker's or his head imploded from listening to the Vulcan recitation.
"Yes, captain." she said coolly.
"I don't have a lot of specifics on the nature of the epidemic. It is possible that ..." Archer started to say before hesitating a look at Doctor Phlox.
"It all depends upon the virulence of the disease, sub-commander." said the doctor.
"It's a shame that we have to backtrack like this though." said Trip, shaking his head.
"No other Star Fleet vessel could make it in a timely manner. Any other ship would just be collecting the bodies." Archer told him.
"What about the Vulcans? Obviously they could send supplies and doctors just as easily as we can." interjected Lieutenant Reed.
"They don't want to risk their people catching this thing. It's our problem, and we have to handle it." said Archer.
"How much information do you have on the nature of this disease?" inquired T'Pol, who understood the motives of her people, and yet after so many months on a human vessel felt a certain dissatisfaction with their reluctance to involve themselves more directly in a humanitarian mission.
Phlox and Archer looked at one another, but the captain answered, "Actually, almost none, but ... we should be getting some soon."
That was the end of the questions from the senior officers and Captain
Archer had no more relevant information to give them and that was therefore
the end of the briefing. It had been quick and almost painless. Archer
sent Trip to engineering to figure out if he could squeeze any more speed
out of the engines, but everyone else, including the Denobulan doctor went
about their daily routine.
Phlox had just finished treating a crewman from engineering, who had been sent to sickbay with a pair of jammed fingers, when Captain Archer appeared in the doorway, glancing behind him at the departing crewman.
"Every time you suggest that Mister Tucker should tinker with the machinery down there, someone comes to me with singed, jammed, or otherwise injured appendages. Why can't they just keep their fingers where they belong?" questioned the doctor, shaking his head and putting away a hypospray as he spoke.
"I will remind Trip about safety protocols next time I see him, but I have a feeling that this is probably one of the galaxy's great mysteries." said Archer. He shuffled his feet before informing Phlox, "We are just about to dock with the Seleya and pick up our passenger. Most of the senior staff, with the exception of Commander Tucker, who has the bridge for a change of pace, are going to be there to welcome our guest. Would you care to come along?"
The request made the captain uncomfortable. He expected, or half expected, Phlox to have some resentment against the doctor who would be performing his duties on this mission. Even so, he could not neglect to invite the amiable physician on that account. If he wanted to be there, then Phlox deserved to be allowed to do so. There was no getting around that.
"Of course, captain. I would like that very much. It isn't every day that a Vulcan ship consents to dock with the Enterprise, after all." answered Phlox with a smile, understanding something of the intricacies involved when dealing with the Vulcans, especially those commanding military vessels.
"Follow me then, doc."
The commander of the Seleya had informed Archer that only three of his people would be coming aboard to deliver some crates of basic supplies and necessities that Doctor Zeller had brought. True to his word, three Vulcans, each bearing a metallic crate of some great size, entered through the airlock, set their burdens down in the corridor and retreated, doing exactly as they said they would do without more than a blank look at captain or crew. Then another figure, a human woman with blond hair that was just beginning to whiten at her temples, came aboard the vessel.
She said something to the cargo handlers in stilted Vulcan that was spoken in acid tones as they passed by her, which Hoshi Sato understood to mean, "Maybe next time I should bring my own baggage clerks too." T'Pol noted only the all-too-human rudeness.
To that statement the trio gave no response as they closed the airlocks behind them, obviously in a hurry to be on their way.
"Astrid Zeller? Is that really you?" asked Phlox in a dumbfounded voice as she swept her hair from her face and turned to the face the crew who had come to greet her.
She tossed her head and placed her hands on her hips as she answered, "I guess no one told you I was coming, Phlox."
"The two of you know each other?" questioned Archer, who could not help but to look at the self-assured doctor, who wore the conservatively blue uniform of an Academy physician.
"From the medical exchange program that I took part in, captain." replied Phlox, who, for the only time in Archer's memory, looked positively nonplused. Making the mildest of recoveries, he gestured to the captain and introduced him to her with the words, "Meet my commanding officer: Captain Jonathan Archer."
She looked him up and down for a moment before extending her hand. The grip was startlingly firm and cold to the touch. Something about her reminded Archer of a snake in the most unpleasant way.
"I'm Astrid Zeller, captain, but I suppose you've guessed that." she said with complete self-confidence and an almost condescending sneer.
"Of course." said Archer, hoping that his smile didn't look half as phony as it felt. He could not imagine spending two weeks interacting with such a smug and instantly irritating individual. "Always glad to meet one of our good doctor's colleagues." he added after hesitating a brief sidelong glance at the Denobulan, who was unfortunate enough not to have a poker face. He was the picture of misery and discomfort.
"Your good doctor?" Astrid chuckled, the sneer seeming to deepen ever-so-slightly. "I imagine he would be your CMO." she commented.
"I will have your ... things moved into a cargo area, if that is satisfactory." suggested Captain Archer, eyeing the heavy metal boxes that had been placed in the corridor without ceremony.
"Yes, of course. That will be fine for the time being, but they must be transferred to ... your sickbay before we reached the Ohniaka system. I will have my work cut out for me, you know." she informed the captain.
"Good." said the captain, feeling a bit perturbed by her brusque and
patronizing manner. He almost glanced down to see if his insignia was still
attached to his uniform. Glancing at Hoshi, who had gone through the trouble
of shifting junior officers around to make room for the extra person on
board, he told the communications officer, "Show Doctor Zeller to her quarters,
ensign." He was almost afraid that it would come out as, "Shove her out
an airlock, ensign." But he managed to disguise his animosity.
When Doctor Zeller had been escorted to her quarters, Phlox made a hasty retreat to sickbay while the captain made arrangements for the doctor's cargo, which proved to be too much for the bridge officers to handle alone. The Denobulan doctor was not missed as they marveled over the strength of the Vulcans who had brought the crates aboard. Not even Captain Archer himself could lift one of the boxes unassisted.
Phlox trudged through the corridors on his way toward sickbay, shaking his head at his misfortune. The universe was unfathomable in its size, infinite in its dimensions, and yet his path had managed to cross that of Doctor Astrid Zeller for a second time. Was there no justice in the cosmos?
He politely shooed Crewman Cutler, who had been minding the store so to speak in his absence, out the door before sitting down and beginning to go through the latest medical journals from Denobula and earth that had been transmitted over subspace a few days before. His concentration wavered as his eyes moved across the lines of text on the screen without truly reading them.
When the captain had made the opinions of Star Fleet known, he should have thought of narrow-minded Doctor Zeller and her affinity toward the writings of the discredited late nineteenth and early twentieth century racial theorists. That affinity was common knowledge, and most people grimaced in extreme distaste when she inserted such matters into debate. Unfortunately, Astrid was also a brilliant theorist in her own right although she specialized in more practical matters, including the study of epidemics and communicable diseases, despite the fact that such things were rarely seen on earth, but could readily be found in colony worlds or other areas of space.
Phlox, as he considered it, would not have been at all surprised if
she had volunteered for the assignment and had pulled many strings to get
it. It was a chance to further her reputation in the field of epidemiology
and to advance her xenophobic agenda. The situation was just the thing
she had been waiting for.
The chief medical officer had anticipated a visit from Doctor Zeller, although he had not and did not relish the prospect, but at twelve hundred hours, the accustomed hour of his midday meal, she had failed to make an appearance. Phlox was not disappointed, to the contrary he was rather relieved, especially as he walked alone to the mess hall. Sharing a meal with her after more than a year without doing so would have been all but unbearable. It required some time to develop the ability to endure her particular manner of dinner conversation. Phlox wondered whether he still retained that habituation or if she would make him nearly choke on his food again as she had the first time he dined with his colleagues from the medical exchange.
The mess hall was reasonably crowded when the doctor entered, but as he looked around quickly, he realized that Astrid was nowhere to be seen. A table of junior officers turned his way as he as moved to pick up a tray and have what he considered a well-deserved meal. He had just made his selection and was preparing to sit down at a vacant table when Hoshi waved to him and pointed to a chair at the table she shared with Crewman Elizabeth Cutler and Ensign Travis Mayweather.
"Thank you for inviting me to dine with all of you." said Phlox congenially as he took his place at the table. He was well aware of how quickly news traveled in such a small vessel, among a crew of approximately eighty, and that the crewmen were undoubtedly curious.
"No problem, doctor." said Hoshi with a smile. "You want to tell us about your 'colleague' who came aboard this morning? She didn't seem like your kind of girl." the linguist ventured with a certain jesting sarcasm.
"I am pleased that you think so, or rather that you don't think so, ensign." commented Phlox.
"An evasive answer, doctor?" prodded Crewman Cutler, who knew him better than any other crew member, in mock-surprise.
"What do you wish to know about Doctor Zeller?" asked Phlox, relenting.
Hoshi, the only one of the trio to see the woman in person, was not exactly diplomatic as she questioned, "Her personality ... Is she really like that ... all the time?"
"Sometimes she is worse, ensign." replied Phlox with a chuckle.
"Then you know her pretty well, doc?" questioned Ensign Mayweather, grinning at the doctor's answer.
"I don't think anyone can say that they know Doctor Zeller well. From what I observed and what I learned from other participants in the medical exchange, no one could make that claim. Would it suffice to say that by the time she left for Vulcan, I knew her as well as I wanted to?"
"I suppose, but can you tell us why she's on this mission? From what I've heard, this is anything that our sickbay couldn't handle." said Cutler with an almost defensive frown.
"She is an expert in epidemiology." Phlox answered.
"People still study that kind of thing?" asked Hoshi, who found the idea of studying horrible epidemics both a little old-fashioned and a little gross.
"Oh, indeed, ensign, though on your planet epidemiologists are dying breed, so to speak. What is the expression she once used to explain the phenomenon?" Phlox asked himself, frowning. "Ah, yes, I remember. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. She used it with a great deal of sarcasm to refer to the trend in human biological sciences toward the study of preventive medicine."
"So she's here as a specialist then?" questioned Cutler for clarification.
"I suppose that is an adequate way of putting it." said the doctor, who did not want his younger crew mates to be exposed to the whole truth of the matter. The captain had wanted the less essential portions of the mission, the xenophobia as an example, to be kept from common knowledge. He had felt certain that it would upset and outrage many of them.
Just then Ensign Sato's eyes widened and she nodded surreptitiously toward the entrance to the mess hall, which her seat happened to face. Phlox looked over his shoulder to see Doctor Zeller standing there, momentarily observing the crowd before making her way toward the area where food was served. Her gaze had seemed to rest on him for an instant, taking in briefly the sight of the Denobulan doctor eating with three younger crew mates. He thought he had detected a mildly surprised smirk before she went about her business.
"Nobody said she was pretty." commented Travis quietly when she too far away to hear.
"Looks aren't everything, ensign." Phlox told him, watching Doctor Zeller as she took ample time to choose her food selections before seating herself at an unoccupied table in the corner of the mess hall, not too far from a window.
"What's going to be like working with her again?" asked Crewman Cutler, also keeping her voice down as the three of them hesitated covert glances at the woman sitting across the room.
"I don't know if Doctor Zeller and I will be working together exactly. This is her mission, after all, and not mine. I find it doubtful that she would ask me for anything, especially regarding something so close to her area of expertise. I would just be in the way, so to speak." answered Phlox uncomfortably.
"But why wouldn't she ask you for a little assistance at least? She will be using your sickbay and your equipment, you know." stated Cutler.
"Who knows? Maybe she will, or maybe she won't, but regardless, Doctor Zeller likes to have her way and she usually gets it. Just keep that in mind." said Phlox, who was very much against the idea of working side by side with Astrid Zeller. That would be a nightmare.
"One of those." commented Travis, rolling his eyes.
Phlox looked down at his half eaten lunch on the table as he nodded in silent agreement. At least one of his three dining companions seemed to grasp the idea that Doctor Zeller was not of their ilk. But talking about her had made him lose his appetite, which was a very rare, although not entirely unexpected, occurrence. He considered recommending that they stay away from her, but knowing humans, at least a little, he knew that advice would have opposite intended effect. Instead Phlox politely excused himself and returned to sickbay.
"Poor guy." said Hoshi, shaking her head. "You would almost think he'd been in love with her."
"No way!" scoffed Travis, leaning back in his chair and eyeing Astrid Zeller across the room. "He's sincere. They really don't like each other." he told them firmly.
"Yeah? And how would you know, Travis?" asked Cutler.
"Trust me, ladies. She really isn't his type, and ..." he began saying, preparing to share some of his space-boomer wisdom. "I get this feeling that maybe there's something seriously wrong with her that Phlox didn't want to tell us."
"Sharp." nodded Hoshi appreciatively.
"The only question is, do we really want to go there?" asked Ensign
Mayweather, a shrewd judge of the situation.
Phlox had come to think of sickbay as something of a haven, a place where he was one with the universe and at his best as a person. Understandably, there was therefore a certain possessiveness in keeping with those feelings. The thought of someone as willful and disconcerting as Doctor Zeller intruding upon that sanctuary was unpalatable at best, though he had resigned himself to the fact that she had the authority to do so and would do so. Perhaps that was why his reading chair at his desk did not seem as comfortable as it had been.
In midst of his combined brooding and reading, someone at the door, who had stood there unobserved for some minutes cleared his throat. The doctor's head snapped up in surprise.
"I'm sorry, doc. I didn't mean to startle you." said Captain Archer from the door. The Denobulan seemed almost jumpy.
"I was simply immersed in my reading and didn't hear you come in, captain. What can I do for you?" he questioned, suddenly seeming to be his jovial self once again.
"I think we need to have a quiet chat, Phlox, in my ready room."
"About Ast ... about Doctor Zeller?"
"If you aren't too busy."
"Fine." sighed Phlox, putting away his data pad and following the captain
out of sickbay.
Hoshi and Travis had glanced at Captain Archer and the doctor as they exited the lift and walked directly to the ready room. Another piece of the puzzle? If not, then at least the indication that the puzzle had more than a few pieces missing. The looked at each other before returning their attention to their stations as the door hissed closed behind Archer and Phlox, who seemed a bit sullen, or less than happy at the least.
As the doctor took a seat in the ready room, he told Archer, "The universe seems deceptively large sometimes, but in actuality, it isn't. It is in reality very small and composed of only a handful of people and places that we are doomed to encounter again and again."
"Easy, doc. I think you just described hell." cautioned Archer with a friendly, understanding chuckle.
"My apologies." murmured Phlox.
"So, on a scale of one to ten, how bad is it that we have Doctor Zeller onboard?" inquired the captain.
"I don't think it can be expressed as a function of those rather finite numbers, captain."
"Is she competent?"
"Yes, quite."
"Sane?"
"I am neither a psychologist nor a lawyer. I would not wish to make that determination."
"An old flame?"
"Certainly not!" exclaimed Phlox, more than a little offended by the notion, not to mention that it was the second time such a suggestion had cropped up.
"How did you meet her?" questioned Archer, accepting the reply to his previous question at face value.
"It has to do with chess, captain. One of my colleagues invited me to play, or rather to learn to play, in the company of our fellow medical exchange participants. Doctor Lucas introduced me to her after I had picked up the very basics of the game. Most of the students in San Francisco at the time were humans waiting for transport to places like Vulcan and Denobula. Doctor Zeller looked at me with what I took to be disdain as I sat down across from her, and we played chess." explained Phlox, recalling that late evening with peculiar clarity.
"So Doctor Zeller is ... a racist?" questioned Archer to make sure he understood the doctor's meaning.
"She ascribes to a variety of racial theories that are against humans having too much to do with aliens."
"Then why did she join the Interspecies Medical Exchange?" Archer asked him with a pronounced frown.
"She saw it as a way to further her career, and, I dare say, nothing more than that."
"Prestige then?"
"Yes, captain, prestige. It is probably that same reason that brought her here. You must admit that it is a perfect opportunity."
Archer nodded thoughtfully and asked him, "Is there anything else I should know about Doctor Zeller."
"She is quite open about her opinions, captain. If there were some way to inoculate the crew against such despicable ideas, I would suggest doing it, but that is beyond my skills." Phlox told him.
"But the crew has been inoculated, doctor." said Archer with a genuine, heartfelt smile.
"Oh? How, captain?" he inquired curiously.
"By knowing you, Phlox."
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