Disclaimer: Paramount
owns the characters and the setting.
Copyright: d.e.Miller
© 2004
Tag line: Enterprise
is dispatched to investigate a strange phenomenon,
and upon arrival, a member of the crew begins to exhibit signs
of unusual
behavior.
Author's note: Thanks
to all for the kind emails and reviews. The story is
finally finished, though I may (probably) will go back and
nit-pick some.
Summary: Exploration, without and within...
Fall
Chapter One
"Surprise!!!"
Malcolm seemed to be; he staggered
back a bit.
Archer walked up and shook his
hand.
"Happy birthday, Lieutenant!"
"Th- thank you, sir,"
he stammered.
Malcolm was drawn into the mess
hall by the rest of the crowd, and every-
one smiled and took turns greeting him. He appeared
bemused and somewhat
shaken.
"Ok, where's the cake at?"
Trip asked, looking around the room.
"Ah, here it comes!"
Phlox beamed. "Right on time!"
All heads turned towards the
back of the mess hall as Hoshi emerged from
the galley, hands full of flaming confection. Archer
cleared his throat, clinched his
fists, and started singing "Happy Birthday"; the
rest joined in, as Malcolm fidgeted
from the attention - his cheeks rosé. The song
ended with some modest cheering
and a hearty round of applause.
Archer, still clapping, leaned
towards T'Pol.
"I didn't notice you singing,
Sub-commander."
"I am...unfamiliar...with
the words," she said flatly.
"Well, I'll have to see
if I can find a copy of them for you," he poked, "for
next time."
T'Pol gave him a wary glance,
but he simply smiled at her and returned to
the celebration.
Hoshi parted the crowd and carefully
placed the cake on the covered table,
then she hugged Malcolm, who was still in somewhat of a state.
"Make a wish!" she
ordered.
The crowd hushed, and Malcolm,
with a silly grin, glanced nervously around.
He stepped up to the table and bent over, then he closed his
eyes for a moment
and blew, drawing a second breath to complete the job. Everyone
applauded his
success, then conversations flared, and the whole room hummed.
"What'd ya wish for Malcolm?"
asked Trip, slapping him on the back.
"Well, I would tell you,"
he said, "but it's against regulations."
Trip laughed and handed him
the serving knife.
"Just cut the cake, then,"
he smiled.
Malcolm took the knife and started
to cut, then he paused and tried to take
a head count. Archer noticed and leaned in.
"There's eleven,"
he winked.
"Thank you, sir."
He studied the cake for a moment,
then his face contorted, and he puzzled.
Hoshi, however, soon granted him a reprieve.
"Oh, and save a piece for
Travis!" she chirped.
Malcolm sighed.
"Thank you, Hoshi,"
he said. "That makes it somewhat easier."
Reed calculated, measured, and
cut. He gently placed the slice on a small
plate and handed it to the first in line.
"Ah, thank you, Lieutenant!"
Phlox grinned. He beamed at Malcolm for
an instant, then he quickly devoted his full attention to
the matter at hand.
The partiers passed in succession,
and the sweet was shared. After the line
had dissipated, Malcolm stared at the not-quite-empty cake
tray in confusion. He
glanced around the room and soon found his answer over by
the wall - she was
reading her padd and holding a mug.
Malcolm approached her.
"You're not having any
cake, Sub-commander?"
T'Pol paused, then lowered her
work.
"No, thank you, Lieutenant."
He gave her a slanted grin and
a quick nod, and T'Pol returned to her
data. Malcolm went back to the table and picked up his
piece, and he was soon
joined by the smiling Hoshi and the chewing Trip.
"Sorry," Hoshi apologized,
shrugging. "We were out of balloons."
"That's quite all right,
Hoshi," he said. "This is more than enough."
He reached behind her and grabbed
a napkin.
"So how old are ya, Malcolm?"
Trip smacked. "Ya know, I tried to count
the candles, but the heat was too much for me."
Hoshi covered her mouth, fork
in hand, and suppressed a giggle.
"At least mine didn't set
off the ship's fire alarm like yours did," Malcolm
quipped, rolling his eyes.
Hoshi hiccupped; Trip grinned,
but he held his gaze.
"So?" he persisted.
"Let's just say I'm not
too old to still enjoy cake," Malcolm said, taking a bite.
Hoshi leaned in and tilted her
head towards Trip.
"He's thirty-four,"
she whispered.
"And just how did you know
that?" Malcolm asked, feigning surprise.
"A little bird told me,"
Hoshi smiled coyly.
Close by, the captain chatted
and mingled with smooth deliberation. He
stopped for a moment and sipped his punch, then he noticed
T'Pol over by the
doorway - a portrait of purple discomfort on bulkhead gray.
He sighed and
ambled up to her.
"Enjoying the party?"
She paused and lowered her padd
again.
"I suppose."
"Where's your cake?"
he asked.
"Cake," she said flatly,
"does not agree with me."
"I see," said the
captain. "Well, it agrees with me!"
He took a bite, and the two
of them shared the sound of his chewing for a
moment. Finally, he looked back at T'Pol.
"I'm glad you decided to
attend this time," he chinned. "It's...important."
"I suppose," T'Pol
murmured, then she looked at him. "I am still uncertain
as to why humans must celebrate their day of birth...every
year."
"Oh?" Archer arched.
"You don't have birthdays on Vulcan?"
"Not quite," she said.
"We do have a ceremony that is somewhat similar.
However, it only takes place once every ten years, and it
is much more...somber."
Archer looked at her.
T'Pol blinked.
"I'm...sure it is,"
he smiled. He took another bite, and noticed the doctor.
"Captain, Sub-commander,"
he grinned, nodding cordially.
"Doctor," she acknowledged.
"Having a good time, Phlox?"
Archer asked.
"Oh, yes!" he beamed.
"I always look forward to these, mmm, occasions,
as I find they provide me with a wonderful opportunity to
observe your, ahh...hmm."
Phlox paused and studied T'Pol.
"Sub-commander? You're
not having any- ?"
"No."
Archer chuckled.
"It doesn't 'agree' with
her," he whispered.
"Oh, well, that's a pity!"
Phlox exclaimed. "I find cake to be one of earth's
finer delicacies! Are you sure you won't try just a
bite? Hmm?"
He offered her the loaded fork,
and she stared at it as if it might suddenly
go off.
"No," she said.
"Thank you."
"It's...pineapple!"
he coaxed.
T'Pol glared.
After a few minutes, the party
settled down, and Captain Archer called
everyone's attention.
"Now I know we all agreed,"
he paced, "not to give each other gifts on
birthdays, but...Malcolm's been doing such a good job lately
that I felt...
compelled...to- Well..."
He reached beneath the white
table cloth and pulled out a modest-sized
package, gift-wrapped in colorful paper. He handed it
to Malcolm.
"You shouldn't have, sir!"
Archer smiled and patted him
on the back.
"Go ahead, Malcolm,"
he said. "Open it up!"
Reed shot a nervous glance at
Trip, who was staring at him, chewing with glee.
He tore away the wrapping paper, and everyone leaned in.
Then he opened the box.
"What is it?" Hoshi
asked, straining for a peek.
"It's a ship!" Archer
beamed. "It's a replica - the HMS Victory!"
Malcolm carefully removed the
collection of wooden sticks from the container.
Trip quickly turned away, and
Hoshi introduced him to her elbow.
"Well, whatdaya think,
Malcolm?" Archer grinned.
Malcolm hesitated then swallowed.
"I- I'm speechless, sir."
(Hoshi's elbow again found Trip's
ribcage.)
"It's Nelson's," Archer
continued. "Battle of Trafalgar!"
"Certainly, sir."
Archer noticed the doctor's
interest and turned to him.
"Whatdaya think, Phlox?"
"Well," Phlox pondered,
looking at the sticks, "though I am not...familiar with
this particular, mmm, vessel, I'm sure it bears a...strong
resemblance!"
"Thank you, Doctor,"
Archer nodded, then he held up his hands. "Now, I know
it's a little rough around the edges...but if you hold it-"
He took the ship from Malcolm,
and a piece fell off.
"Don't worry about that.
If you hold it just so..."
He held it just so.
"See?"
"Very good, sir,"
Malcolm said.
Archer held it just so towards
T'Pol.
"A fair...likeness,"
she said diplomatically.
Archer handed the creation back
to its new captain, and another piece fell off.
"Don't worry about that,"
he said. "You know, I had planned to build it inside
a bottle, but...I ran out of time."
"It's lovely, sir, really,"
Malcolm said. "I'll cherish it, thank you!"
He smiled, then carefully returned
the Victory to dry dock. T'Pol reached
down and gathered the pieces, which she delicately placed
alongside.
"You know," Archer
continued. "I was reading about Trafalgar just the other
day, and I was surprised to learn that-"
The comm interrupted him.
"Captain to the bridge."
"What is it, Travis?"
"Star Fleet, sir,"
he said. "It's Admiral Forrest."
"Thank you, Ensign.
Forward it to my ready room."
"Aye, Captain."
"I'll fix those pieces
later, Malcolm," he smiled, turning. "Now if you all will
excuse me..."
Malcolm started to thank him
again, but Archer made a quick exit. T'Pol
wandered over to the window and resumed her dissertation.
Trip set his plate down
on the table and stared into the box.
"Nice...ship ya got there,
Cap'ain!"
"Be nice," Hoshi warned.
"Someone should say something,"
Malcolm whispered. "Captain Archer
really needs to find a new hobby."
"I don't know," Trip
shrugged. "I think he's gettin' the hang of it."
He looked up at Malcolm.
"You've seen my 'Spirit
of St. Louis'," he said. "At least this one kinda looks
like a boat."
He peered back inside the box
and craned his neck.
"Kinda..."
"Well, I, for one, adore
my holographic clock," Phlox chimed in, helping
himself to T'Pol's neglected slice of cake.
"Of course, it lacks a,
mmm, certain...refinement," he continued. "But it's the
thought that counts, isn't it? Hmm?"
"You're right, Doctor,"
Malcolm said. "I shall display it with pride...some day."
Trip laughed out loud, and Hoshi
rolled her eyes.
"Well, I think it's sweet,"
she said, placing her dish on the table.
"Yeah?" Trip cracked. "And
how's that knick-knack shelf of yours holdin' up?"
Hoshi smiled pleasantly and
tilted her head. She hugged Malcolm again and
patted him on the back.
"I...have to return to
the bridge," she said. "Travis must be worried about his
cake by now."
She collected the plate and
made a swift retreat, throwing them a parting glance.
They both laughed, and Phlox
wandered off with his new prize, as Trip fingered
some left-over icing from the empty tray. T'Pol looked
up as she heard the mess
doors open. She watched Hoshi leave, and then she walked
up to the two men and
added her mug to the growing pile of dishes on the table.
"Congratulations, Lieutenant,"
she said.
Malcolm glanced at Trip.
"Sub-commander?"
"For successfully aging,"
T'Pol blinked. "I suppose."
Malcolm and Trip chuckled.
"Just wish him a happy
birthday," Trip gently suggested, salvaging some crumbs.
"Happy...birthday, then"
she nodded. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to-"
"So, uh, tells us, Sub-commander,"
Trip looked up, interrupting both her and
his chewing. "When's your birthday?"
T'Pol paused, then leaned ever-so-slightly
away. She stared at him for a
moment, blankly.
The two men smiled and stared
back.
"The...Vulcan calendar,
as I am sure that you are aware, is very...different,"
she said carefully.
Malcolm returned his eyes to
his plate and suppressed a smirk; Trip, on the
other hand, raised his brows, and T'Pol released the shadow
of a sigh.
"It would take some...advanced...calculations,"
she nodded. "Now, if you'll
excuse me..."
She cautiously retreated to
her data and started for the door.
"That's no problem, Sub-commander,"
Trip hollered. "I'll get the ship's computer
working on that right away!"
T'Pol hesitated and half-looked
over her shoulder, then she resumed her stride
and left the mess hall.
Captain's Star Log: September
2nd, 2154.
Enterprise has been ordered
to investigate a newly discovered planet
in the Halmari system. Though
long range scans have detected no signs
of intelligent life, scientists at
Star Fleet have picked up some...unusual
readings. After briefing my
senior staff, I ordered a routine maintenance
check, and following its completion,
we charted a course and set sail.
