Chapter 3-
"I'm sorry, Davanj." Archer told the image of the alien on his computer screen. "We tried, but it's just going to take more time. I've called my repair team back, but they'll return after the storm's past."
"I thank you for your efforts." Davanj said. "We have at least three hours to take shelter. Will you send us the storm tracker information you have gathered thus far?"
"Yes, I'll do that personally right away." Archer told him. "Good luck. Contact us first chance you get in the morning."
"Thank you again, Captain." Davanj's image disappeared from the screen.
Archer rose from his chair, tired and troubled. He stared at his hands for what must have been the hundredth time that evening. He kept playing the moment over and over in his head and it still sent a chill up and down his spine. He had hit Trip not once, but twice. Never in his most craziest thoughts would he ever have believed that would happen.
Yet, Trip had crossed the line. He had shown the utmost disrespect at the briefing that day. But then hadn't he, Captain Jonathan Archer, crossed a line himself? He suddenly remembered he had to get that information to Davanj before they took cover from the storm. He quickly headed out of his quarters.
----------
Trip tossed and turned on the bed. He couldn't get to sleep. All he kept thinking about was the look in Jon's eyes after each time he had slapped him. Damn! He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and stared around his room. He wanted to go to the mess and see if there was anything left in the serving compartments, but he couldn't.
Running his hands through his short cropped hair, Trip Tucker got up from the bed and went to sit at his desk. He punched the buttons on his computer. Maybe he could go over the updated reports on the repair team's progress of the atmospehric regulator. He entered his access code to main engineering's logs, but the words "ACCESS DENIED" flashed across the screen.
"What the..." Trip mumbled out loud. "Why?"
He entered the quarry he muttered out loud and the computer displayed, "USER ALREADY LOGGED ON". Trip frowned at the screen. Someone had accessed the engineering logs using his code. That was really unnerving. He then punched in to inquiry as to where the login came from. The computer then displayed, "MAIN ENGINEERING".
Trip knew it couldn't be Hess. She had her own authorization codes that allowed her almost as much access as his. Why would someone want his access? He bit his lower lip and jumped up, heading for the clothes closet and grabbing a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt.
Once he was dressed, Trip Tucker pushed the button on his door panel and it slid open. He poked his head out into the hall, looking left and right cautiously. Then, he bolted from the room rushing down the hall.
----------
Malcolm Reed sat in the mess eating a midnight snack. He had found his visit to Trip's quarters too disturbing to pass off. He could never; would never, believe that the captain had grown to feel anything less than friendship for the commander. And to think that Trip, who he knew looked up to Archer, felt the captain was not the best person for the job of commanding Enterprise? Never.
So, this spice Trip talked about sounded bizarre. An inhibitor blocker. How could Davanj know how it would react on other alien visitors. Just because it had that reaction on some, didn't mean that humans were going to react the same. Suppose it had another adverse effect? That would certainly account for Captain Archer striking his chief engineer and best friend in anger. But what other effect?
He wouldn't go back on his word to Trip, but Malcolm decided keeping mum about this was not in anyone's best interest; least of all Trip and the captain's. After discarding his tray and leftovers, he hurried out of the mess and headed for Trip's quarters.
----------
Trip stealthily crept down the corridor towards engineering. Periodically turning around to make sure no one was behind him. The last thing he needed was for someone to see him going against the captain's orders. He shook his head. Confined to his quarters for talking back. Now that was excessive.
He grabbed the handle and released the door to engineering, peeking his head in and around the door. His heart leapt into his throat as he saw the captain sitting at his station. Archer started to look towards him just as he was pulling his head back into the corridor. He heard the chair creak and froze.
"Stand your ground, Trip." Archer's voice said evenly.
Trip inhaled deeply and leaned his head on the open door. Archer's boot heels could be heard on the deck plating, slowly making their way towards him. Trip jumped as the door was yanked right out of his hand.
"Let's hear it, Commander." Archer said, standing before him and folding his arms.
"I'm sorry, sir." Trip apologized, still well aware of the respect he needed to show this man. "I wanted to go over the latest reports on the repair work down on the surface and I couldn't get in. I just wondered who was usin' my access code and thought I should check it out."
"You could've called Lieutenant Reed." Archer said.
"Yes, sir." Trip hung his head. "I guess I didn't think."
"Give the man a prize." Archer now placed his hands on his hips. "That's exactly it, Commander. A lot of times you don't think before you act or speak and that can result in severe consequences."
Trip was holding back his emotions, mainly the anger that was building at this whole situation. That damned celebratory drink, Jon slapping him, being confined to his quarters and now being caught breaking that order. He looked inside engineering and couldn't see anyone else around. It was early in the morning, so there was a skeleton crew. Just great, he thought. His internal defense mechanism kicked into high gear and, as usual, he spoke without thinking.
"Severe consequences like gettin' slapped 'round by my C.O.?" Trip fired at Archer.
"Oh," The captain shook his head. "That was a consequence, but hardly severe."
"Cap'n," Trip sighed. "Maybe I better just get back to my quarters."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Archer asked, moving to lean on the opened door. "But that'd be favoritism. Can't let you off the hook, Trip."
"I said I was worried somethin' was wrong down here..." Trip's nervousness was escalating.
"I commend your motives, but not your actions." The captain said. "I'm sorry, Trip."
Crewman Kelly was entering from the far side of engineering and saw Captain Archer leaning on the door. She couldn't see who was in the corridor, but she heard muffled voices. Ignoring the voices, as it was none of her concern, she busied herself at another station.
"What happens now?" Trip asked.
"Well, there are two ways I could go." Archer told him. "One, I could call Mr. Reed and have him come down here and throw you in the brig. Or, we could settle this my way. Just between the two of us and it'd never go on your record. And you know what? I'll even let you decide. Take your pick."
Trip stared wide-eyed at the man before him. This was Jonathan Archer who, prior to that fateful dinner with Davanj on the planet, had been his best friend. But he didn't know him at this moment, nor in his ready room the day before. Trip's attention wandered as he caught a glimpse of Crewman Kelly up on the catwalk. She was moving their way, but he wasn't sure she could see him.
Archer began to reach for the comm panel. "I'm waiting."
"Your way." Trip answered quickly.
"Let's take a walk to the gym." The captain said, heading out the door and closing it behind him.
----------
Malcolm Reed pressed the button to Trip's quarters again. He was sure if Trip had been asleep he would've been roused by now. Deciding that this was too important to let go until morning, the lieutenant overrode the lock out and entered.
The room was empty. Trip's bedsheets were rumpled proving he had been asleep or trying to. Malcolm looked over at the desk and saw Trip's computer screen displaying his last inquiry. He walked over, sitting down and began to punch the buttons.
"Oh, Trip." Reed shook his head. "What are you up to now?" He pushed back the chair and rushed out of the room.
----------
Trip entered the gym, followed by Archer. Once inside, the captain pushed the buttons on the panel and locked the door. Upon hearing the click, Trip wheeled around.
"We don't want anyone coming in, do we?" Archer asked. "Then I'd have call Malcolm and..."
Trip watched Archer walk to a cabinet and open the doors. The younger man wondered what the captain had in mind and shifted his weight on his legs.
"So, what're we gonna do?" Trip asked. "Box?"
Archer let out a small laugh. "No. You're the one being punished, Trip. I'm the giver here." He rustled around in the drawers. "You know, I always loved those old British naval movies centered around the 1700's or 1800's. Those captains really had a handle on the discipline. You know me, Trip. I was never one for being that strict. But Malcolm's even said I'm just not running a tight enough ship here. Think he's right."
"I--I think ya do all right." Trip responded. He didn't like where this was going. His mind was flying with thoughts of trying to flee or maybe get to the comm to call Malcolm. He was so hating this man before him, his mind cluttered with resentment.
"Nope." Archer disagreed. "I think you know, most of all, that I let my people off too easy. But...not anymore." He finally turned around and was holding a thin cord about four feet long.
Trip recognized the cord as a binding for the floor mats and watched as Archer wound one end around his hand. The captain stopped when there was about three feet left dangling from his hand. He looked up at Trip now, with a coldness in his eyes far beyond what he saw in the ready room yesterday.
"We can't let anything show." The captain told him. "This is just between us, so it won't go on your record."
"Wh--what're ya gonna do?" Trip found himself moving slightly backwards.
"Take your shirt off, Trip." Archer instructed. "Then come and grab hold of the handles on this exercise bike."
----------
Reed entered engineering and saw Crewman Kelly working up above.
"Have you seen Commander Tucker?" Malcolm called up to her.
"No, sir." She replied. "The only senior officer here tonight was the captain."
"How long ago?"
"He left about a half hour ago." Then she remembered the person she couldn't see in the hall. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir. There was someone he was talking to at the door. They were in the corridor so I couldn't see who it was. But I did overhear the captain say something about the gym."
Reed didn't even have time to thank the crewman. He turned tail and ran out.
----------
"No way!" Trip raised his voice. "You can't be serious."
"Do I call Malcolm, then?" Archer asked.
"Maybe ya should." Trip shot back. "Cuz I think this is gone far enough. You don't deserve this command. You never did. If it weren't for T'Pol, you'd have botched this mission up months ago!"
The captain was at the comm panel now and reaching for the button. Trip, unaware his reasoning was just as marred by the spice effects as Archer's, felt trapped.
"No!" Trip hollered. Archer turned to face him. "Don't call him."
Slowly, Trip reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. He dropped it to the floor and trudged over to the exercise bike, where he bent slightly at the waist and grabbed onto the handlebars. He could hear Jonathan Archer move into position behind him and closed his eyes.
"I hate you." Trip growled. Immediately he felt a sharp sting across his shoulder blades.
TO BE CONTINUED
----------
"I'm sorry, Davanj." Archer told the image of the alien on his computer screen. "We tried, but it's just going to take more time. I've called my repair team back, but they'll return after the storm's past."
"I thank you for your efforts." Davanj said. "We have at least three hours to take shelter. Will you send us the storm tracker information you have gathered thus far?"
"Yes, I'll do that personally right away." Archer told him. "Good luck. Contact us first chance you get in the morning."
"Thank you again, Captain." Davanj's image disappeared from the screen.
Archer rose from his chair, tired and troubled. He stared at his hands for what must have been the hundredth time that evening. He kept playing the moment over and over in his head and it still sent a chill up and down his spine. He had hit Trip not once, but twice. Never in his most craziest thoughts would he ever have believed that would happen.
Yet, Trip had crossed the line. He had shown the utmost disrespect at the briefing that day. But then hadn't he, Captain Jonathan Archer, crossed a line himself? He suddenly remembered he had to get that information to Davanj before they took cover from the storm. He quickly headed out of his quarters.
----------
Trip tossed and turned on the bed. He couldn't get to sleep. All he kept thinking about was the look in Jon's eyes after each time he had slapped him. Damn! He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and stared around his room. He wanted to go to the mess and see if there was anything left in the serving compartments, but he couldn't.
Running his hands through his short cropped hair, Trip Tucker got up from the bed and went to sit at his desk. He punched the buttons on his computer. Maybe he could go over the updated reports on the repair team's progress of the atmospehric regulator. He entered his access code to main engineering's logs, but the words "ACCESS DENIED" flashed across the screen.
"What the..." Trip mumbled out loud. "Why?"
He entered the quarry he muttered out loud and the computer displayed, "USER ALREADY LOGGED ON". Trip frowned at the screen. Someone had accessed the engineering logs using his code. That was really unnerving. He then punched in to inquiry as to where the login came from. The computer then displayed, "MAIN ENGINEERING".
Trip knew it couldn't be Hess. She had her own authorization codes that allowed her almost as much access as his. Why would someone want his access? He bit his lower lip and jumped up, heading for the clothes closet and grabbing a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt.
Once he was dressed, Trip Tucker pushed the button on his door panel and it slid open. He poked his head out into the hall, looking left and right cautiously. Then, he bolted from the room rushing down the hall.
----------
Malcolm Reed sat in the mess eating a midnight snack. He had found his visit to Trip's quarters too disturbing to pass off. He could never; would never, believe that the captain had grown to feel anything less than friendship for the commander. And to think that Trip, who he knew looked up to Archer, felt the captain was not the best person for the job of commanding Enterprise? Never.
So, this spice Trip talked about sounded bizarre. An inhibitor blocker. How could Davanj know how it would react on other alien visitors. Just because it had that reaction on some, didn't mean that humans were going to react the same. Suppose it had another adverse effect? That would certainly account for Captain Archer striking his chief engineer and best friend in anger. But what other effect?
He wouldn't go back on his word to Trip, but Malcolm decided keeping mum about this was not in anyone's best interest; least of all Trip and the captain's. After discarding his tray and leftovers, he hurried out of the mess and headed for Trip's quarters.
----------
Trip stealthily crept down the corridor towards engineering. Periodically turning around to make sure no one was behind him. The last thing he needed was for someone to see him going against the captain's orders. He shook his head. Confined to his quarters for talking back. Now that was excessive.
He grabbed the handle and released the door to engineering, peeking his head in and around the door. His heart leapt into his throat as he saw the captain sitting at his station. Archer started to look towards him just as he was pulling his head back into the corridor. He heard the chair creak and froze.
"Stand your ground, Trip." Archer's voice said evenly.
Trip inhaled deeply and leaned his head on the open door. Archer's boot heels could be heard on the deck plating, slowly making their way towards him. Trip jumped as the door was yanked right out of his hand.
"Let's hear it, Commander." Archer said, standing before him and folding his arms.
"I'm sorry, sir." Trip apologized, still well aware of the respect he needed to show this man. "I wanted to go over the latest reports on the repair work down on the surface and I couldn't get in. I just wondered who was usin' my access code and thought I should check it out."
"You could've called Lieutenant Reed." Archer said.
"Yes, sir." Trip hung his head. "I guess I didn't think."
"Give the man a prize." Archer now placed his hands on his hips. "That's exactly it, Commander. A lot of times you don't think before you act or speak and that can result in severe consequences."
Trip was holding back his emotions, mainly the anger that was building at this whole situation. That damned celebratory drink, Jon slapping him, being confined to his quarters and now being caught breaking that order. He looked inside engineering and couldn't see anyone else around. It was early in the morning, so there was a skeleton crew. Just great, he thought. His internal defense mechanism kicked into high gear and, as usual, he spoke without thinking.
"Severe consequences like gettin' slapped 'round by my C.O.?" Trip fired at Archer.
"Oh," The captain shook his head. "That was a consequence, but hardly severe."
"Cap'n," Trip sighed. "Maybe I better just get back to my quarters."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Archer asked, moving to lean on the opened door. "But that'd be favoritism. Can't let you off the hook, Trip."
"I said I was worried somethin' was wrong down here..." Trip's nervousness was escalating.
"I commend your motives, but not your actions." The captain said. "I'm sorry, Trip."
Crewman Kelly was entering from the far side of engineering and saw Captain Archer leaning on the door. She couldn't see who was in the corridor, but she heard muffled voices. Ignoring the voices, as it was none of her concern, she busied herself at another station.
"What happens now?" Trip asked.
"Well, there are two ways I could go." Archer told him. "One, I could call Mr. Reed and have him come down here and throw you in the brig. Or, we could settle this my way. Just between the two of us and it'd never go on your record. And you know what? I'll even let you decide. Take your pick."
Trip stared wide-eyed at the man before him. This was Jonathan Archer who, prior to that fateful dinner with Davanj on the planet, had been his best friend. But he didn't know him at this moment, nor in his ready room the day before. Trip's attention wandered as he caught a glimpse of Crewman Kelly up on the catwalk. She was moving their way, but he wasn't sure she could see him.
Archer began to reach for the comm panel. "I'm waiting."
"Your way." Trip answered quickly.
"Let's take a walk to the gym." The captain said, heading out the door and closing it behind him.
----------
Malcolm Reed pressed the button to Trip's quarters again. He was sure if Trip had been asleep he would've been roused by now. Deciding that this was too important to let go until morning, the lieutenant overrode the lock out and entered.
The room was empty. Trip's bedsheets were rumpled proving he had been asleep or trying to. Malcolm looked over at the desk and saw Trip's computer screen displaying his last inquiry. He walked over, sitting down and began to punch the buttons.
"Oh, Trip." Reed shook his head. "What are you up to now?" He pushed back the chair and rushed out of the room.
----------
Trip entered the gym, followed by Archer. Once inside, the captain pushed the buttons on the panel and locked the door. Upon hearing the click, Trip wheeled around.
"We don't want anyone coming in, do we?" Archer asked. "Then I'd have call Malcolm and..."
Trip watched Archer walk to a cabinet and open the doors. The younger man wondered what the captain had in mind and shifted his weight on his legs.
"So, what're we gonna do?" Trip asked. "Box?"
Archer let out a small laugh. "No. You're the one being punished, Trip. I'm the giver here." He rustled around in the drawers. "You know, I always loved those old British naval movies centered around the 1700's or 1800's. Those captains really had a handle on the discipline. You know me, Trip. I was never one for being that strict. But Malcolm's even said I'm just not running a tight enough ship here. Think he's right."
"I--I think ya do all right." Trip responded. He didn't like where this was going. His mind was flying with thoughts of trying to flee or maybe get to the comm to call Malcolm. He was so hating this man before him, his mind cluttered with resentment.
"Nope." Archer disagreed. "I think you know, most of all, that I let my people off too easy. But...not anymore." He finally turned around and was holding a thin cord about four feet long.
Trip recognized the cord as a binding for the floor mats and watched as Archer wound one end around his hand. The captain stopped when there was about three feet left dangling from his hand. He looked up at Trip now, with a coldness in his eyes far beyond what he saw in the ready room yesterday.
"We can't let anything show." The captain told him. "This is just between us, so it won't go on your record."
"Wh--what're ya gonna do?" Trip found himself moving slightly backwards.
"Take your shirt off, Trip." Archer instructed. "Then come and grab hold of the handles on this exercise bike."
----------
Reed entered engineering and saw Crewman Kelly working up above.
"Have you seen Commander Tucker?" Malcolm called up to her.
"No, sir." She replied. "The only senior officer here tonight was the captain."
"How long ago?"
"He left about a half hour ago." Then she remembered the person she couldn't see in the hall. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir. There was someone he was talking to at the door. They were in the corridor so I couldn't see who it was. But I did overhear the captain say something about the gym."
Reed didn't even have time to thank the crewman. He turned tail and ran out.
----------
"No way!" Trip raised his voice. "You can't be serious."
"Do I call Malcolm, then?" Archer asked.
"Maybe ya should." Trip shot back. "Cuz I think this is gone far enough. You don't deserve this command. You never did. If it weren't for T'Pol, you'd have botched this mission up months ago!"
The captain was at the comm panel now and reaching for the button. Trip, unaware his reasoning was just as marred by the spice effects as Archer's, felt trapped.
"No!" Trip hollered. Archer turned to face him. "Don't call him."
Slowly, Trip reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. He dropped it to the floor and trudged over to the exercise bike, where he bent slightly at the waist and grabbed onto the handlebars. He could hear Jonathan Archer move into position behind him and closed his eyes.
"I hate you." Trip growled. Immediately he felt a sharp sting across his shoulder blades.
TO BE CONTINUED
----------