Author's Note - This is a bit more character centered then adventure so I
hope you enjoy it!
The story takes place before any of the events of "The Expanse". All reviews, good or bad, are welcomed and appreciated! And as always, I do not own any of the characters from the show. (The title of this story means "a dear friend" in Latin. Really struggled namin' this one!)
AMICULUS
By plumtuckered
Chapter One
Captain Jonathan Archer stood outside his friend's quarters. He hesitated, afraid to enter. Every single night since Trip's death two months ago, Jon had done the same thing but had never opened the door. To step over the threshold into the empty room would mean it was true. Trip was dead.
The captain keyed in his code and the door slid open with a gust. He swallowed then stepped in, the door sliding shut behind him. He had tried to be strong for his crew, knowing they didn't need to see him fall apart but now that he was alone with Trip's memory, he felt the walls begin to crumble.
Jon looked around the room at Trip's pictures, his awards, all of his old books. Slowly the captain moved, running his hand over the desk where his friend had spent countless hours writing letters home, studying schematics, or compiling reports. His eyes settled on a picture of them both with A.G. Robinson and he smiled sadly. Two friends lost, he thought.
Finally Jon moved to the bunk and sat down. On the pillow lying as if it was tossed there in haste, was a data padd. Jon picked it up and flicked it on. Trip's to-do list stared back at him, all of his friend's plans that he would never be able to complete.
Jon clutched the padd to his chest then dropped his head and sobbed, all of his carefully held control completely gone.
Sub-commander T'Pol turned out her light and slipped under the covers in her bunk. She gazed out at the single candle she'd left burning since his death. The flame flickered as she watched it, as she allowed herself to remember him. Two months had passed since the explosion that had taken his life but T'Pol still could not extinguish the flame. To do so would acknowledge that Commander Charles Tucker III was indeed gone.
She closed her eyes and remembered. They'd been on an away mission to the city of Koltas in the northern hemisphere of the tiny planet, Pilo Medra. Captain Archer had been excited for the first "first contact" they'd had in weeks.
T'Pol opened her eyes and stared at the flame again. She could clearly see in her mind's eye the commander walking away from her, busily chatting with two Medran scientists who were taking him to see one of their very early warp engine designs. She could see him entering the tiny building, turning once to look back with a smile. T'Pol finally decided that it had only been 2.25 minutes before the explosion had occurred. Before her life and every other life on Enterprise had been irreversibly changed.
The sub-commander pulled her covers up under her chin and watched the candle burn.
"Two months to the day," sighed Ensign Travis Mayweather. He looked across the mess hall table at his companion, Ensign Hoshi Sato. "And I still can't make myself believe he's really gone."
Hoshi nodded. "I know," she replied quietly. "I miss him."
Travis pushed away his untouched late night snack. "So do I. I still catch myself looking for him when I go down to engineering. I remember that first day aboard ship, Lieutenant Reed and I caught him polishing away a smudge on the warp core." Travis shook his head with a smile. "He loved that engine."
"I wonder how his family's doing?" pondered Hoshi.
Travis shrugged. "Telling them couldn't have been an easy call for the captain to make. He and the commander were like brothers."
Hoshi brushed away the tears that rolled down her cheeks. "How do we move passed this?" she asked, her voice breaking.
"You just do, Ensign."
Travis turned to see Dr. Phlox standing behind him.
The Denobulan took a chair. "Commander Tucker would want you to," he continued gently. "He loved life so I know he wouldn't want you spending yours grieving for him." Phlox looked down at his hands where they lay folded neatly on the table. "But I too still struggle with his loss."
Two months to the day thought Lieutenant Malcolm Reed as he stopped pedaling the stationary bike. He looked around at the empty gym, visions of his friend bombarding him. Malcolm had never known anyone like Trip Tucker before and he knew he would never again. Trip was simply one of a kind and Malcolm felt blessed to have known such a kind soul.
The lieutenant grabbed his towel from the handlebars and wiped his forehead. He remembered vividly the explosion and how he and T'Pol had grabbed the captain before he had plunged headlong into the burning building to save his friend. Archer had let loose a gut-wrenching scream as they had watched the building disintegrate before them.
Malcolm felt the now familiar burn of tears in his eyes and he tried to blink them away. He missed his friend horribly. He put the towel to his face and let the tears fall.
"Jon, you need to take more time before you make this kind of decision."
The captain stared at the face of Admiral Maxwell Forrest displayed on his ready room monitor. "I've had two months, Admiral. I don't think I can do this anymore."
"Jon."
"No," sighed the captain. "There were two people in my life who I shared this dream with and now they're both gone. It doesn't mean as much to me without them."
"Do you really think your dad and Commander Tucker would want you to resign?"
Jon shrugged in reply, suddenly unable to speak.
"Turn the ship over to Sub-commander T'Pol for a while, Jon. Take some time for yourself. If you still want to resign, then we'll talk about it again."
The captain nodded. "I don't think I'll change my mind, Admiral."
The image of his commanding officer disappeared. Jon sat back in his chair, feeling the emotions from the night before crashing over him again.
"Bridge to Captain Archer."
Jon sniffed and wiped at his nose. "Go ahead."
"I've picked up a distress call, sir," came Hoshi's reply.
Jon sighed. "I'll be right out."
As he entered the bridge, his eyes met Hoshi's.
"It's Medran, sir. It just keeps repeating that they're in distress," the ensign replied. She pressed her earpiece then shook her head. "That's all it says."
Jon turned to T'Pol. "Anything on our scanners?"
"Yes. The ship is approximately twelve hours behind us at warp 4," the sub- commander replied. Her fingers tapped at her keyboard. "I detect no other vessels in the vicinity."
"Okay," said Jon. He sat in his chair. "Travis turn us around and take us to warp 4.5. Lets see if we can help."
Malcolm looked at the tiny ship displayed on the front view screen then gazed down at his readings. "It appears to be a cargo hauler, Captain. I detect no heavy weaponry," he reported. "All compartments have been depressurized except for one."
Archer turned to the sub-commander. "Any life signs?" he asked.
T'Pol nodded. "Yes. I'm picking up nine, none of which are Medran." She stopped suddenly, staring at her screen. "Captain---."
Malcolm looked across the bridge at the Vulcan science officer. Her brow furrowed slightly as she continued to stare at her monitor.
"T'Pol?" prompted Archer. He stood and moved to her side, peering over her shoulder.
"One of the life signs, Captain---," T'Pol replied. "---is Human."
"Human?" asked Travis. He turned his head to look at Malcolm, his eyes conveying the slight hope that the lieutenant felt rising in his stomach.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes Captain," replied T'Pol. She tapped a few keys then looked up at Archer. "It's Commander Tucker."
Malcolm watched the captain grab the back of T'Pol's chair for support. "Trip?" he whispered. "Hail them, Hoshi."
There was a long silence.
"I'm getting no response, sir."
Archer moved down quickly to stand beside Travis. "Dock with them," he directed.
"Aye, Captain."
Malcolm struggled to calm his heart rate. "But how can it be Trip--- Commander Tucker?" he asked of no one in particular.
"I don't know, Malcolm. But lets find out," replied Archer. "Can we use the transporter to get them out of there?"
"I wouldn't recommend it, Captain," said T'Pol. "The life signs are unstable. Some of them might not survive, including the commander."
Archer nodded with a grimace. "Then get Hess and an engineering team over there to re-pressurize that ship."
To be continued
The story takes place before any of the events of "The Expanse". All reviews, good or bad, are welcomed and appreciated! And as always, I do not own any of the characters from the show. (The title of this story means "a dear friend" in Latin. Really struggled namin' this one!)
AMICULUS
By plumtuckered
Chapter One
Captain Jonathan Archer stood outside his friend's quarters. He hesitated, afraid to enter. Every single night since Trip's death two months ago, Jon had done the same thing but had never opened the door. To step over the threshold into the empty room would mean it was true. Trip was dead.
The captain keyed in his code and the door slid open with a gust. He swallowed then stepped in, the door sliding shut behind him. He had tried to be strong for his crew, knowing they didn't need to see him fall apart but now that he was alone with Trip's memory, he felt the walls begin to crumble.
Jon looked around the room at Trip's pictures, his awards, all of his old books. Slowly the captain moved, running his hand over the desk where his friend had spent countless hours writing letters home, studying schematics, or compiling reports. His eyes settled on a picture of them both with A.G. Robinson and he smiled sadly. Two friends lost, he thought.
Finally Jon moved to the bunk and sat down. On the pillow lying as if it was tossed there in haste, was a data padd. Jon picked it up and flicked it on. Trip's to-do list stared back at him, all of his friend's plans that he would never be able to complete.
Jon clutched the padd to his chest then dropped his head and sobbed, all of his carefully held control completely gone.
Sub-commander T'Pol turned out her light and slipped under the covers in her bunk. She gazed out at the single candle she'd left burning since his death. The flame flickered as she watched it, as she allowed herself to remember him. Two months had passed since the explosion that had taken his life but T'Pol still could not extinguish the flame. To do so would acknowledge that Commander Charles Tucker III was indeed gone.
She closed her eyes and remembered. They'd been on an away mission to the city of Koltas in the northern hemisphere of the tiny planet, Pilo Medra. Captain Archer had been excited for the first "first contact" they'd had in weeks.
T'Pol opened her eyes and stared at the flame again. She could clearly see in her mind's eye the commander walking away from her, busily chatting with two Medran scientists who were taking him to see one of their very early warp engine designs. She could see him entering the tiny building, turning once to look back with a smile. T'Pol finally decided that it had only been 2.25 minutes before the explosion had occurred. Before her life and every other life on Enterprise had been irreversibly changed.
The sub-commander pulled her covers up under her chin and watched the candle burn.
"Two months to the day," sighed Ensign Travis Mayweather. He looked across the mess hall table at his companion, Ensign Hoshi Sato. "And I still can't make myself believe he's really gone."
Hoshi nodded. "I know," she replied quietly. "I miss him."
Travis pushed away his untouched late night snack. "So do I. I still catch myself looking for him when I go down to engineering. I remember that first day aboard ship, Lieutenant Reed and I caught him polishing away a smudge on the warp core." Travis shook his head with a smile. "He loved that engine."
"I wonder how his family's doing?" pondered Hoshi.
Travis shrugged. "Telling them couldn't have been an easy call for the captain to make. He and the commander were like brothers."
Hoshi brushed away the tears that rolled down her cheeks. "How do we move passed this?" she asked, her voice breaking.
"You just do, Ensign."
Travis turned to see Dr. Phlox standing behind him.
The Denobulan took a chair. "Commander Tucker would want you to," he continued gently. "He loved life so I know he wouldn't want you spending yours grieving for him." Phlox looked down at his hands where they lay folded neatly on the table. "But I too still struggle with his loss."
Two months to the day thought Lieutenant Malcolm Reed as he stopped pedaling the stationary bike. He looked around at the empty gym, visions of his friend bombarding him. Malcolm had never known anyone like Trip Tucker before and he knew he would never again. Trip was simply one of a kind and Malcolm felt blessed to have known such a kind soul.
The lieutenant grabbed his towel from the handlebars and wiped his forehead. He remembered vividly the explosion and how he and T'Pol had grabbed the captain before he had plunged headlong into the burning building to save his friend. Archer had let loose a gut-wrenching scream as they had watched the building disintegrate before them.
Malcolm felt the now familiar burn of tears in his eyes and he tried to blink them away. He missed his friend horribly. He put the towel to his face and let the tears fall.
"Jon, you need to take more time before you make this kind of decision."
The captain stared at the face of Admiral Maxwell Forrest displayed on his ready room monitor. "I've had two months, Admiral. I don't think I can do this anymore."
"Jon."
"No," sighed the captain. "There were two people in my life who I shared this dream with and now they're both gone. It doesn't mean as much to me without them."
"Do you really think your dad and Commander Tucker would want you to resign?"
Jon shrugged in reply, suddenly unable to speak.
"Turn the ship over to Sub-commander T'Pol for a while, Jon. Take some time for yourself. If you still want to resign, then we'll talk about it again."
The captain nodded. "I don't think I'll change my mind, Admiral."
The image of his commanding officer disappeared. Jon sat back in his chair, feeling the emotions from the night before crashing over him again.
"Bridge to Captain Archer."
Jon sniffed and wiped at his nose. "Go ahead."
"I've picked up a distress call, sir," came Hoshi's reply.
Jon sighed. "I'll be right out."
As he entered the bridge, his eyes met Hoshi's.
"It's Medran, sir. It just keeps repeating that they're in distress," the ensign replied. She pressed her earpiece then shook her head. "That's all it says."
Jon turned to T'Pol. "Anything on our scanners?"
"Yes. The ship is approximately twelve hours behind us at warp 4," the sub- commander replied. Her fingers tapped at her keyboard. "I detect no other vessels in the vicinity."
"Okay," said Jon. He sat in his chair. "Travis turn us around and take us to warp 4.5. Lets see if we can help."
Malcolm looked at the tiny ship displayed on the front view screen then gazed down at his readings. "It appears to be a cargo hauler, Captain. I detect no heavy weaponry," he reported. "All compartments have been depressurized except for one."
Archer turned to the sub-commander. "Any life signs?" he asked.
T'Pol nodded. "Yes. I'm picking up nine, none of which are Medran." She stopped suddenly, staring at her screen. "Captain---."
Malcolm looked across the bridge at the Vulcan science officer. Her brow furrowed slightly as she continued to stare at her monitor.
"T'Pol?" prompted Archer. He stood and moved to her side, peering over her shoulder.
"One of the life signs, Captain---," T'Pol replied. "---is Human."
"Human?" asked Travis. He turned his head to look at Malcolm, his eyes conveying the slight hope that the lieutenant felt rising in his stomach.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes Captain," replied T'Pol. She tapped a few keys then looked up at Archer. "It's Commander Tucker."
Malcolm watched the captain grab the back of T'Pol's chair for support. "Trip?" he whispered. "Hail them, Hoshi."
There was a long silence.
"I'm getting no response, sir."
Archer moved down quickly to stand beside Travis. "Dock with them," he directed.
"Aye, Captain."
Malcolm struggled to calm his heart rate. "But how can it be Trip--- Commander Tucker?" he asked of no one in particular.
"I don't know, Malcolm. But lets find out," replied Archer. "Can we use the transporter to get them out of there?"
"I wouldn't recommend it, Captain," said T'Pol. "The life signs are unstable. Some of them might not survive, including the commander."
Archer nodded with a grimace. "Then get Hess and an engineering team over there to re-pressurize that ship."
To be continued