STAR TREK: THE KELVAN CONQUEST
By thew40
Disclaimer: I do not own "Star Trek" or anything remotely related to it. I enjoy it, love it, obsess over it, and write about it. This story is for entertainment purposes only and I make no profit from it.
Note: Okay, kids, got catch up on history by watching the original series episode entitled "By Any Other Name." This story is inspired by it. Please review – if I see that there's interest in it, I'll post more. If not, oh well. Expect a new post AT LEAST every week, if not more. Please, also remember that this is a first draft.
Book One is dedicated to the creators of "Star Trek" – from the stars and producers to the guy that lets into the lot and the boy that brings them food – they are the engineers of the future. Gene, this means you too buddy.
Now, here we go . . .
STAR TREK: THE KELVAN CONQUEST
Featuring "ENTERPRISE"
Book One: "Prelude to Invasion"
Act One: "Another Successful Mission"
The USS Enterprise NX-01 was running fine that afternoon and it showed in every way. Captain Archer was more than proud of this fact, as well as the reception in the Mess Hall celebrating first contact between humans and the Gallamites.
Of course, for every silver cloud, there's a dark lining. And in this case – it's the strange appearance of the Gallamites. Sure, figured Archer, not every race out here is going to a beauty queen or king by human standards. But maybe it was something about the Gallamites transparent skull and their larger than normal brains inside.
Something that just didn't sit right.
But he tried to pay it no mind and continued conversation as usual. Which was all going surprisingly well. Thanks to Hoshi Sato's quick work with the universal translator, communication between both races was going quite well.
"Your planet is Earth? What a remarkable name!" exclaimed one of the Gallamites.
Trip Tucker smiled broadly, laying on the southern North American charm. "Well, it's the name we've had for years. And your home planet is . . . .?"
"It is called Gallaimia. Oh, it is beautiful. Ripe oceans, large mountains and valleys. Incredible."
"Well, now, it sounds like a place I would want to visit sometime," he replied with a smile.
Archer smiled from afar. Yes, things were good. But there seemed to be something in the back of his mind that kept him from relaxing. He attempted to push it out and concentrate at the task at hand. This was a good accomplishment in the name of Starfleet and all of humanity, wasn't it?
The reception was over after a few hours and both the Gallamite vessel and the Enterprise were on their own way.
And with this little success under his belt, Captain Archer decided it was time for a little shuteye . . .
* * *
Captain Jonathan Archer couldn't seem to sleep. He tossed and turned, but just couldn't seem to get comfortable enough. Thoughts kept flowing through his mind. The Suliban . . . the Klingons . . . the Vulcans . . . the humans. He was starting to feel the pressure of his role, he imagined.
And it was justified. He was in command of the first major Earth exploration of the galaxy and its many wonders. It was quite some pressure. He wondered . . . did T'Pol see it this way as well? Of course not, he mused. She was a Vulcan. She experienced no emotion.
Perhaps that was the tip of the iceberg. She just . . . never seemed to react like the rest of the crew. Everyone was always on the edge of their seat. Everyone knew each time they would go to warp, it was like another major accomplishment for mankind. Even Phlox felt this way.
He liked Phlox, he decided. Although he had only known for a little under three weeks, he has grown accustomed to the good doctor and his constantly growing collection of 'goodies.' He was a practical, smart and witty man with a fine sense in the way of medicine. Even his alternative ways with craft of healing agreed with Archer.
But it was T'Pol that really got under his skin. His dinners with Trip and T'Pol were often filled with tension and T'Pol constant logic was starting to irritate him. She was always so cold and so stern. If she were capable of emotion, Archer would swear she hated him. It was only right, though. Didn't he feel the same way about her?
He pushed the thought out of his head. He did his best not to be hypocritical. Here he was, waiting to meet brand new extraordinary life and he was having difficulty handling his resentment towards the Vulcans. Archer knew he should have left his stereotypes and prejudices back on Earth.
But old habits were hard to break, weren't they?
He turned to his back, looking up at the steel gray ceiling and sighed. The crew was new and the entire ship might as well wear a banner that said it.
Take Hoshi Sato for example. She was fresh. New. Never really been in space. Especially this far into it. Everything here was totally frightening and strange to her. But . . . that was the whole reason he begged her to come along with them. He needed a translator and communications officer, didn't he? Someone to make sense out of the strange and frightening.
It wasn't just her, though. Travis Mayweather – the Enterprise's pilot – was a 'space boomer.' Born and bred out here in the great expanse. But as experienced as he was, there was no true experience for what they were constantly facing on a day-to-day basis.
As for Trip Tucker – an old friend of his – it was all fun and games. He was getting a kick out of being out here in the unknown. As Chief Engineer, Trip knew the engine inside and out. But would all that knowledge and his thrill for adventure bring him luck out here in the farthest reaches of unexplored space? Archer only hoped so.
Then there was Malcolm Reed . . .
He was everything military there could be. He was always prepared. Archer supposed that was the way the Armory officer had to be. But would all that preparation and military-readiness arm them enough for what would happen out here?
And what was to happen out here? What kind of things were they going to encounter? What was he going to do? Was he up to meeting the pressures of handling this assignment?
He sat up from his bed and rubbed his eyes. Massaging his neck, he stood up and walked out of his quarters. Maybe a walk around the ship would do him some good . . .
* * *
"No no no! How many times do I have to tell you, Tucker, you can not divert power from the phasers to the warp core?!"
"And why is that, Reed?"
Reed rolled his eyes. "It's not obvious? First off, we don't even know if the bloody transfer would work and second, what if we're attacked!? Then what? Huh?"
"Calm down. I only the power to be transferred for a few minutes to perform a power test."
"Oh, yeah. That'll work."
"Is there a problem here, gentlemen?" asked Archer from above, walking down the ladder to their level.
"No, cap, no problem at all - "
"THERE most certainly is a problem, sir," Reed interrupted. "Mr. Tucker here wants to divert power from our weapon systems so he could perform some sort of 'test!"
"Ah. And you're afraid that there might be an attack while this test is commencing?" asked Archer, looking over the two of them.
"Yes sir."
"I see," Archer said, nodded. He then turned to Tucker. "Trip, what is this test you wanted to perform exactly?"
"I wanted to see if we could indeed focus the power from the weapons' array into the matter/anti-matter reactor."
Archer's eyes grew large. "You what . . . ? Isn't that dangerous?"
"Dangerous as in it's only been done twice. The first time it barely worked, but it overloaded the main reactor. If they didn't find a way to get the core out of the ship, they wouldn't be around. The second ship wasn't as lucky."
Archer groaned and looked at the both of them. "And what made you think we were going to be any better off?"
Trip shrugged. "I just figured we might have a stroke of good luck, cap."
"No, Trip. I don't think this a good idea at all."
Trip Tucker sighed. "Oh well. Back to the drawing board."
Malcolm Reed only smiled and walked out of Engineering after Captain Archer.
"I need to realign the phaser emitters."
"Why's that? Is there problem?"
"No. Just that time."
"Ah."
"I thought this was your time out. What are you doing wandering the ship?"
"Can't sleep."
With that, Archer turned the corner and headed down another corridor. Reed shook his head. "Insane. But I suppose that's the kind of man they need for a job like this."
"Phlox? What's going on?" asked Archer casually as he strolled into sickbay.
"Captain! I'm surprised to see you here so late. I thought this was the night shift. It is the night shift, isn't it?"
"Um, yeah. I couldn't sleep."
"Oh?" asked Phlox earnestly. "I'm willing to wager I have something here that could help you with that."
Phlox began to rummage through his shelves, searching through odds and ends for something that would help the fresh captain sleep.
"Uh, actually, I think I'll be okay, Phlox."
"Are you sure, Captain? I'm sure I have something here."
"Thanks anyway. I'll . . . uh . . . I'll catch you later, Phlox."
Phlox shrugged. "Sure, Captain. You'll know where I'll be if you need me."
Archer liked Phlox. He was more than happy to bring him aboard.
Moving on, Archer walked to the bridge. There were not many people up now, but Archer knew who was up. As soon as he reached the bridge he saw her.
T'Pol.
She immediately saw him enter and turned to him. "Captain? I was under the impression that it was still the night shift. Unless you would like to take command . . ."
Time to lay on that old human charm that he knew she hated so much. "Oh no, no, T'Pol. It's your shift. I was just giving myself the old five dollar tour of the ship."
"Sir? Five dollar tour?"
"Old Earth expression, T'Pol. My father used to say it all the time when showing friends and family around the house for the first time. And the shipyards."
"Ah," she responded, nodding slightly and turning back to the viewscreen.
Archer stood there in silence for a moment, then was about to head off the bridge, when he heard the sound of a sensor detecting something.
"Captain," T'Pol said simply.
"Yes T'Pol?" he said, stepping towards her.
"We are receiving an emergency distress call some twenty-five light- years from here."
"Go to red alert. Lay in a course. Call the rest of the senior staff to the bridge. T'Pol, you take the bridge until I get back."
She turned to face him. "Captain?"
He grinned at her stern Vulcan face. "If we're going to be rescuing anyone today, wouldn't it be best if we put our best face forward? I need to change into my uniform."
By thew40
Disclaimer: I do not own "Star Trek" or anything remotely related to it. I enjoy it, love it, obsess over it, and write about it. This story is for entertainment purposes only and I make no profit from it.
Note: Okay, kids, got catch up on history by watching the original series episode entitled "By Any Other Name." This story is inspired by it. Please review – if I see that there's interest in it, I'll post more. If not, oh well. Expect a new post AT LEAST every week, if not more. Please, also remember that this is a first draft.
Book One is dedicated to the creators of "Star Trek" – from the stars and producers to the guy that lets into the lot and the boy that brings them food – they are the engineers of the future. Gene, this means you too buddy.
Now, here we go . . .
STAR TREK: THE KELVAN CONQUEST
Featuring "ENTERPRISE"
Book One: "Prelude to Invasion"
Act One: "Another Successful Mission"
The USS Enterprise NX-01 was running fine that afternoon and it showed in every way. Captain Archer was more than proud of this fact, as well as the reception in the Mess Hall celebrating first contact between humans and the Gallamites.
Of course, for every silver cloud, there's a dark lining. And in this case – it's the strange appearance of the Gallamites. Sure, figured Archer, not every race out here is going to a beauty queen or king by human standards. But maybe it was something about the Gallamites transparent skull and their larger than normal brains inside.
Something that just didn't sit right.
But he tried to pay it no mind and continued conversation as usual. Which was all going surprisingly well. Thanks to Hoshi Sato's quick work with the universal translator, communication between both races was going quite well.
"Your planet is Earth? What a remarkable name!" exclaimed one of the Gallamites.
Trip Tucker smiled broadly, laying on the southern North American charm. "Well, it's the name we've had for years. And your home planet is . . . .?"
"It is called Gallaimia. Oh, it is beautiful. Ripe oceans, large mountains and valleys. Incredible."
"Well, now, it sounds like a place I would want to visit sometime," he replied with a smile.
Archer smiled from afar. Yes, things were good. But there seemed to be something in the back of his mind that kept him from relaxing. He attempted to push it out and concentrate at the task at hand. This was a good accomplishment in the name of Starfleet and all of humanity, wasn't it?
The reception was over after a few hours and both the Gallamite vessel and the Enterprise were on their own way.
And with this little success under his belt, Captain Archer decided it was time for a little shuteye . . .
* * *
Captain Jonathan Archer couldn't seem to sleep. He tossed and turned, but just couldn't seem to get comfortable enough. Thoughts kept flowing through his mind. The Suliban . . . the Klingons . . . the Vulcans . . . the humans. He was starting to feel the pressure of his role, he imagined.
And it was justified. He was in command of the first major Earth exploration of the galaxy and its many wonders. It was quite some pressure. He wondered . . . did T'Pol see it this way as well? Of course not, he mused. She was a Vulcan. She experienced no emotion.
Perhaps that was the tip of the iceberg. She just . . . never seemed to react like the rest of the crew. Everyone was always on the edge of their seat. Everyone knew each time they would go to warp, it was like another major accomplishment for mankind. Even Phlox felt this way.
He liked Phlox, he decided. Although he had only known for a little under three weeks, he has grown accustomed to the good doctor and his constantly growing collection of 'goodies.' He was a practical, smart and witty man with a fine sense in the way of medicine. Even his alternative ways with craft of healing agreed with Archer.
But it was T'Pol that really got under his skin. His dinners with Trip and T'Pol were often filled with tension and T'Pol constant logic was starting to irritate him. She was always so cold and so stern. If she were capable of emotion, Archer would swear she hated him. It was only right, though. Didn't he feel the same way about her?
He pushed the thought out of his head. He did his best not to be hypocritical. Here he was, waiting to meet brand new extraordinary life and he was having difficulty handling his resentment towards the Vulcans. Archer knew he should have left his stereotypes and prejudices back on Earth.
But old habits were hard to break, weren't they?
He turned to his back, looking up at the steel gray ceiling and sighed. The crew was new and the entire ship might as well wear a banner that said it.
Take Hoshi Sato for example. She was fresh. New. Never really been in space. Especially this far into it. Everything here was totally frightening and strange to her. But . . . that was the whole reason he begged her to come along with them. He needed a translator and communications officer, didn't he? Someone to make sense out of the strange and frightening.
It wasn't just her, though. Travis Mayweather – the Enterprise's pilot – was a 'space boomer.' Born and bred out here in the great expanse. But as experienced as he was, there was no true experience for what they were constantly facing on a day-to-day basis.
As for Trip Tucker – an old friend of his – it was all fun and games. He was getting a kick out of being out here in the unknown. As Chief Engineer, Trip knew the engine inside and out. But would all that knowledge and his thrill for adventure bring him luck out here in the farthest reaches of unexplored space? Archer only hoped so.
Then there was Malcolm Reed . . .
He was everything military there could be. He was always prepared. Archer supposed that was the way the Armory officer had to be. But would all that preparation and military-readiness arm them enough for what would happen out here?
And what was to happen out here? What kind of things were they going to encounter? What was he going to do? Was he up to meeting the pressures of handling this assignment?
He sat up from his bed and rubbed his eyes. Massaging his neck, he stood up and walked out of his quarters. Maybe a walk around the ship would do him some good . . .
* * *
"No no no! How many times do I have to tell you, Tucker, you can not divert power from the phasers to the warp core?!"
"And why is that, Reed?"
Reed rolled his eyes. "It's not obvious? First off, we don't even know if the bloody transfer would work and second, what if we're attacked!? Then what? Huh?"
"Calm down. I only the power to be transferred for a few minutes to perform a power test."
"Oh, yeah. That'll work."
"Is there a problem here, gentlemen?" asked Archer from above, walking down the ladder to their level.
"No, cap, no problem at all - "
"THERE most certainly is a problem, sir," Reed interrupted. "Mr. Tucker here wants to divert power from our weapon systems so he could perform some sort of 'test!"
"Ah. And you're afraid that there might be an attack while this test is commencing?" asked Archer, looking over the two of them.
"Yes sir."
"I see," Archer said, nodded. He then turned to Tucker. "Trip, what is this test you wanted to perform exactly?"
"I wanted to see if we could indeed focus the power from the weapons' array into the matter/anti-matter reactor."
Archer's eyes grew large. "You what . . . ? Isn't that dangerous?"
"Dangerous as in it's only been done twice. The first time it barely worked, but it overloaded the main reactor. If they didn't find a way to get the core out of the ship, they wouldn't be around. The second ship wasn't as lucky."
Archer groaned and looked at the both of them. "And what made you think we were going to be any better off?"
Trip shrugged. "I just figured we might have a stroke of good luck, cap."
"No, Trip. I don't think this a good idea at all."
Trip Tucker sighed. "Oh well. Back to the drawing board."
Malcolm Reed only smiled and walked out of Engineering after Captain Archer.
"I need to realign the phaser emitters."
"Why's that? Is there problem?"
"No. Just that time."
"Ah."
"I thought this was your time out. What are you doing wandering the ship?"
"Can't sleep."
With that, Archer turned the corner and headed down another corridor. Reed shook his head. "Insane. But I suppose that's the kind of man they need for a job like this."
"Phlox? What's going on?" asked Archer casually as he strolled into sickbay.
"Captain! I'm surprised to see you here so late. I thought this was the night shift. It is the night shift, isn't it?"
"Um, yeah. I couldn't sleep."
"Oh?" asked Phlox earnestly. "I'm willing to wager I have something here that could help you with that."
Phlox began to rummage through his shelves, searching through odds and ends for something that would help the fresh captain sleep.
"Uh, actually, I think I'll be okay, Phlox."
"Are you sure, Captain? I'm sure I have something here."
"Thanks anyway. I'll . . . uh . . . I'll catch you later, Phlox."
Phlox shrugged. "Sure, Captain. You'll know where I'll be if you need me."
Archer liked Phlox. He was more than happy to bring him aboard.
Moving on, Archer walked to the bridge. There were not many people up now, but Archer knew who was up. As soon as he reached the bridge he saw her.
T'Pol.
She immediately saw him enter and turned to him. "Captain? I was under the impression that it was still the night shift. Unless you would like to take command . . ."
Time to lay on that old human charm that he knew she hated so much. "Oh no, no, T'Pol. It's your shift. I was just giving myself the old five dollar tour of the ship."
"Sir? Five dollar tour?"
"Old Earth expression, T'Pol. My father used to say it all the time when showing friends and family around the house for the first time. And the shipyards."
"Ah," she responded, nodding slightly and turning back to the viewscreen.
Archer stood there in silence for a moment, then was about to head off the bridge, when he heard the sound of a sensor detecting something.
"Captain," T'Pol said simply.
"Yes T'Pol?" he said, stepping towards her.
"We are receiving an emergency distress call some twenty-five light- years from here."
"Go to red alert. Lay in a course. Call the rest of the senior staff to the bridge. T'Pol, you take the bridge until I get back."
She turned to face him. "Captain?"
He grinned at her stern Vulcan face. "If we're going to be rescuing anyone today, wouldn't it be best if we put our best face forward? I need to change into my uniform."