TITLE: Dear Annie ("Shockwave, Part II")
AUTHOR: Mara Greengrass
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL: fishfolk@ix.netcom.com. Feedback is better than chocolate.
PERMISSION TO ARCHIVE: Of course to Linguistics Database, others, just let me know.
CATEGORY: Gen
RATINGS/WARNINGS: G
SUMMARY: Hoshi writes home after the events of "Shockwave, Part II."
DISCLAIMER: Enterprise and all its crew belong to Paramount and many other entities with expensive lawyers. I am making no profit from this story.
NOTES: Okay, there's a paragraph here that's a tribute to Chris from the Linguistics Database Forum. He and the rest of the LD gang will know it when they see it. Thanks once again to Captain Average, beta extraordinaire and purveyor of the dreaded square brackets.
* * * * *
Dear Annie,
I think you don't realize just how important one person can be, until you think they're gone. Even after everything we'd been through, I don't think this crew (or I) realized how important Captain Archer is--to us, to Starfleet, to humanity.
You've probably heard by now that we've been cleared of the accusation of killing the Paraagan miners. That moment, when we realized what had happened, was so bittersweet. First the joy--the relief that it wasn't our fault; followed by guilt when we realized all those people were still dead. There are still several thousand beings, who had invited us to dinner, that we'll never get to meet.
There wasn't a lot of time to dwell on it, though, because things got hairy pretty fast. The ship was taken over by the bad guys from the X...Did I mention this was all their fault? So much has happened!
They took over the ship, looking for the Captain, who was...gone, and locked us in our quarters. I'm pretty sure they did something awful to T'Pol when they questioned her. She didn't say anything, but she wasn't her usual cool self. And believe me, a little thing like having our ship invaded by hostile aliens isn't even enough to make her sweat, normally.
(Don't tell anyone, but I think she was very worried about the Captain, too.)
Anyway, while the X were doing whatever they were doing to T'Pol, Trip figured out a way to jury-rig our comm panels, so that we could talk to each other from our quarters.
By the time he'd managed to extend his jury-rigging to my quarters on C Deck, T'Pol was back and she'd heard from the Captain. I can't exactly tell you why, but trust me when I say that hearing from him was nothing short of a miracle.
But what he had to say meant that someone had to get us out of our locked quarters. You'd think this was a job for security, right? Maybe engineering? Science officer? No, it was a job for me, not because I'm so smart, but because I'm so small.
Turns out the best plan the most brilliant minds of Starfleet could come up with involved me crawling through these teensy ducts, moving between various people's quarters. (Although, for the record, as far as I can tell there was *plenty* of room in there for someone else. I don't know why they thought I was the only one who could do it.)
I know what you're thinking: claustrophobia. You're remembering the visit to Mammoth Cave, right? You probably figure that crawling through those ducts had to be the worst part of the whole experience. (It *was* pretty horrible--there was some definite hyperventilation going on. I just kept remembering what T'Pol has been teaching me, and that helped a lot.)
But that wasn't quite the worst of it.
No, the worst part was definitely the last bit, when I dropped out of the crawlspace in front of Malcolm's quarters to let him out. You see, as I was lowering myself through a vent plate, the back of my shirt caught on the latch and when I dropped through, I was left shirtless. And I wasn't wearing a bra. (Don't ask. Just don't ask.)
Yes, I had to open Malcolm's door with my hands over my breasts to keep from exposing more than I wanted to.
Stop laughing! It's *not* that funny. What *was* funny was the deer-in-the-headlights look on his face and the way I had to *tell* him to give me a shirt. Nice to know if I ever need to divert all blood flow away from a man's brains, I can just rip my shirt off. Should I be flattered or insulted?
On the bright side, I can be pretty certain he'll never tell anyone. Sometimes it's handy to have a secretive armory officer around. Trip and Travis are great, but they couldn't keep a secret like that for anything.
After my little humiliation, we went on the offensive. Okay, that was a bit of a royal we, because I sat and guarded a couple of prisoners while Malcolm allowed himself to be beaten up for the cause, T'Pol and Trip shot some bad guys, and generally we took back the ship.
As an aside, why does Malcolm keep getting hurt? I know he's our security officer, but still...This may be an unsolved cosmic mystery. At least they don't seem to have done to him whatever they did to T'Pol. Thank heavens for small favors.
To get the X off the ship, Trip rigged the warp core to look like it was about to self-destruct. The X evacuated, towed us away from their ships, and we took off at maximum warp--the X now hotly in pursuit.
We were hoping for two things: to find a nearby Vulcan ship and for Captain Archer to return. We were fairly confident of the first and desperately hoping for the second.
As the X ships drew closer, I could see Trip, on the other side of the bridge, getting more and more worried about his friend.
Just as they were ready to destroy us, they stopped in their tracks. I couldn't see any sign of the Vulcans. It *had* to be the Captain.
The ships drew back, except for one that approached. T'Pol told me to open a channel and we hailed the ship. Trip nearly cried when the Captain's voice came through the comm and I swear even T'Pol looked pleased and relieved.
You've probably heard that Starfleet ordered us to continue our mission. I'm sure you haven't heard why. It all had to do with a most unusual meeting.
The entire bridge crew was present. On the other end of the comm were Admiral Forrest, Ambassador Soval and various human and Vulcan aides. Soval blathered on in his usual fashion about our unworthiness to pilot an aircar, let alone a starship. (Where did they *find* him? What happened to the more reasonable Vulcans you and I met?)
Trip mouthed off in *his* usual fashion and the Captain couldn't decide whether to cheer him on or smack him. The Captain tried to explain that humans need to have a chance to get the hang of space travel, but I suspect that using an animal metaphor when speaking to Vulcans was not the best idea. Maybe someday I'll convince him to tell me what he's going to say *before* he compares humans to gazelles. Ouch.
But you can't deny his sincerity, the passion for exploration, the determination to do the right thing. The Captain is, in many ways, the heart of this ship, this mission, as well as its head. It felt good to have him back where he was meant to be, even if we were about to be ordered back to Earth.
Everything was wrapping up--and not in our favor, even Admiral Forrest sounded like he wanted us home--when T'Pol spoke up.
She *reprimanded* Soval. She chastised him. She did everything but turn him over her knee and spank him. Damn, it was beautiful!
I'm not entirely certain what effect it had, but I know we're not being recalled.
It's so nice to see the lot of us working as a team, even if I *did* have to crawl through the innards of the ship to do my part. And I'm glad we didn't lose any members of the team.
I'm sorry, in a way, that we didn't get back to Earth for a visit. I miss my family and friends and the feeling of walking somewhere well known instead of unknown.
But if Enterprise had returned in ignominy, it would have killed the Captain. So, I guess I'm glad we're on our way out there again. "New life and new civilizations" indeed. Maybe Zephram Cochrane had the right idea.
Gotta go, I promised Doctor Phlox we'd have lunch and I'd tell him all about my part in our recent adventure. In Denobulan, of course.
Love,
Hoshi
AUTHOR: Mara Greengrass
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL: fishfolk@ix.netcom.com. Feedback is better than chocolate.
PERMISSION TO ARCHIVE: Of course to Linguistics Database, others, just let me know.
CATEGORY: Gen
RATINGS/WARNINGS: G
SUMMARY: Hoshi writes home after the events of "Shockwave, Part II."
DISCLAIMER: Enterprise and all its crew belong to Paramount and many other entities with expensive lawyers. I am making no profit from this story.
NOTES: Okay, there's a paragraph here that's a tribute to Chris from the Linguistics Database Forum. He and the rest of the LD gang will know it when they see it. Thanks once again to Captain Average, beta extraordinaire and purveyor of the dreaded square brackets.
* * * * *
Dear Annie,
I think you don't realize just how important one person can be, until you think they're gone. Even after everything we'd been through, I don't think this crew (or I) realized how important Captain Archer is--to us, to Starfleet, to humanity.
You've probably heard by now that we've been cleared of the accusation of killing the Paraagan miners. That moment, when we realized what had happened, was so bittersweet. First the joy--the relief that it wasn't our fault; followed by guilt when we realized all those people were still dead. There are still several thousand beings, who had invited us to dinner, that we'll never get to meet.
There wasn't a lot of time to dwell on it, though, because things got hairy pretty fast. The ship was taken over by the bad guys from the X...Did I mention this was all their fault? So much has happened!
They took over the ship, looking for the Captain, who was...gone, and locked us in our quarters. I'm pretty sure they did something awful to T'Pol when they questioned her. She didn't say anything, but she wasn't her usual cool self. And believe me, a little thing like having our ship invaded by hostile aliens isn't even enough to make her sweat, normally.
(Don't tell anyone, but I think she was very worried about the Captain, too.)
Anyway, while the X were doing whatever they were doing to T'Pol, Trip figured out a way to jury-rig our comm panels, so that we could talk to each other from our quarters.
By the time he'd managed to extend his jury-rigging to my quarters on C Deck, T'Pol was back and she'd heard from the Captain. I can't exactly tell you why, but trust me when I say that hearing from him was nothing short of a miracle.
But what he had to say meant that someone had to get us out of our locked quarters. You'd think this was a job for security, right? Maybe engineering? Science officer? No, it was a job for me, not because I'm so smart, but because I'm so small.
Turns out the best plan the most brilliant minds of Starfleet could come up with involved me crawling through these teensy ducts, moving between various people's quarters. (Although, for the record, as far as I can tell there was *plenty* of room in there for someone else. I don't know why they thought I was the only one who could do it.)
I know what you're thinking: claustrophobia. You're remembering the visit to Mammoth Cave, right? You probably figure that crawling through those ducts had to be the worst part of the whole experience. (It *was* pretty horrible--there was some definite hyperventilation going on. I just kept remembering what T'Pol has been teaching me, and that helped a lot.)
But that wasn't quite the worst of it.
No, the worst part was definitely the last bit, when I dropped out of the crawlspace in front of Malcolm's quarters to let him out. You see, as I was lowering myself through a vent plate, the back of my shirt caught on the latch and when I dropped through, I was left shirtless. And I wasn't wearing a bra. (Don't ask. Just don't ask.)
Yes, I had to open Malcolm's door with my hands over my breasts to keep from exposing more than I wanted to.
Stop laughing! It's *not* that funny. What *was* funny was the deer-in-the-headlights look on his face and the way I had to *tell* him to give me a shirt. Nice to know if I ever need to divert all blood flow away from a man's brains, I can just rip my shirt off. Should I be flattered or insulted?
On the bright side, I can be pretty certain he'll never tell anyone. Sometimes it's handy to have a secretive armory officer around. Trip and Travis are great, but they couldn't keep a secret like that for anything.
After my little humiliation, we went on the offensive. Okay, that was a bit of a royal we, because I sat and guarded a couple of prisoners while Malcolm allowed himself to be beaten up for the cause, T'Pol and Trip shot some bad guys, and generally we took back the ship.
As an aside, why does Malcolm keep getting hurt? I know he's our security officer, but still...This may be an unsolved cosmic mystery. At least they don't seem to have done to him whatever they did to T'Pol. Thank heavens for small favors.
To get the X off the ship, Trip rigged the warp core to look like it was about to self-destruct. The X evacuated, towed us away from their ships, and we took off at maximum warp--the X now hotly in pursuit.
We were hoping for two things: to find a nearby Vulcan ship and for Captain Archer to return. We were fairly confident of the first and desperately hoping for the second.
As the X ships drew closer, I could see Trip, on the other side of the bridge, getting more and more worried about his friend.
Just as they were ready to destroy us, they stopped in their tracks. I couldn't see any sign of the Vulcans. It *had* to be the Captain.
The ships drew back, except for one that approached. T'Pol told me to open a channel and we hailed the ship. Trip nearly cried when the Captain's voice came through the comm and I swear even T'Pol looked pleased and relieved.
You've probably heard that Starfleet ordered us to continue our mission. I'm sure you haven't heard why. It all had to do with a most unusual meeting.
The entire bridge crew was present. On the other end of the comm were Admiral Forrest, Ambassador Soval and various human and Vulcan aides. Soval blathered on in his usual fashion about our unworthiness to pilot an aircar, let alone a starship. (Where did they *find* him? What happened to the more reasonable Vulcans you and I met?)
Trip mouthed off in *his* usual fashion and the Captain couldn't decide whether to cheer him on or smack him. The Captain tried to explain that humans need to have a chance to get the hang of space travel, but I suspect that using an animal metaphor when speaking to Vulcans was not the best idea. Maybe someday I'll convince him to tell me what he's going to say *before* he compares humans to gazelles. Ouch.
But you can't deny his sincerity, the passion for exploration, the determination to do the right thing. The Captain is, in many ways, the heart of this ship, this mission, as well as its head. It felt good to have him back where he was meant to be, even if we were about to be ordered back to Earth.
Everything was wrapping up--and not in our favor, even Admiral Forrest sounded like he wanted us home--when T'Pol spoke up.
She *reprimanded* Soval. She chastised him. She did everything but turn him over her knee and spank him. Damn, it was beautiful!
I'm not entirely certain what effect it had, but I know we're not being recalled.
It's so nice to see the lot of us working as a team, even if I *did* have to crawl through the innards of the ship to do my part. And I'm glad we didn't lose any members of the team.
I'm sorry, in a way, that we didn't get back to Earth for a visit. I miss my family and friends and the feeling of walking somewhere well known instead of unknown.
But if Enterprise had returned in ignominy, it would have killed the Captain. So, I guess I'm glad we're on our way out there again. "New life and new civilizations" indeed. Maybe Zephram Cochrane had the right idea.
Gotta go, I promised Doctor Phlox we'd have lunch and I'd tell him all about my part in our recent adventure. In Denobulan, of course.
Love,
Hoshi