Title: Peace Talks
Author: DeathSprite
Disclaimer: None of the characters or ideas related to Star
Trek belong to me. I write for my personal entertainment, including
the glee that comes from lots of feedback.
Spoilers/Setting: No specific references to anything, although
I know I've played fast and loose with the canonical timeline.
But hell, so are the writers.
-----------------
"Do
you know what Trip was doing when I first met him?"
The question seemed totally incongruous.
Malcolm studied the Captain cautiously out of the corner of his
eye. Archer's eyes were planted in the same direction Trip had
disappeared in search of more drinks. Malcolm relaxed slightly.
Only slightly, though, as he had no idea where this question might
lead.
"Working on the Warp 5 project,
I believe," he answered cautiously, only turning his head
slightly to face his commanding officer.
"Close. He was wrestling alligators."
Malcolm almost fell out of his chair
as he turned to fully face Archer. As it was, he knocked over
several of the empty bottles stacked carefully between the two
chairs.
"You're not serious!"
Malcolm sputtered. Archer sat up a little more carefully. "And
how in the hell is wrestling alligators even close to warp engines?"
Archer chuckled a little. "It
does sound strange, doesn't it? And technically, at the time he
was on the Warp 5 project, but he was little more than a glorified
gopher.
"Trip was a junior in college
at the time, but it was widely acknowledged that he knew more
about warp engines than almost anyone -- he could draw the schematics
from memory, almost knew more than the designers themselves. Problem
was, none of these engineers, many of whom had been working on
this project for nearly a decade, wanted to listen to ideas from
a kid. I don't think he even got near the prototype more than
once in his first seven months there."
Malcolm nodded. For the most part,
this was nothing new. He hadn't really thought about how young
Tucker would have had to be in order to be part of the prototype
development, but it made sense. And past experience with such
biased treatment made him recognize how hard the commander worked
to prevent that on the Enterprise. Archer continued his conversation,
eyes still searching for Trip's return.
"I'm sure you probably know
this already, but the testing facilities were located in the Gulf
of Mexico, less than 30 miles off the coast of Florida. Most of
the research portion of the facility was new, state-of-the-art,
as high tech as it got. But some of the offices and the residence
section of the facility were old, converted from a United States
Naval Base that used to be there. It wasn't well-kept, and leaks
were often a problem.
"One of the duties of the personnel,
with the exception of some of the higher-ups, was to take turns
on 'gator watch.' While alligators aren't on the endangered species
list any more, their numbers at the time were still low. And no
one would be happy if the alligators got into the ductworks, or
the processing facility, which had happened once during construction."
Archer grimaced, recalling the havoc that had caused.
"'Gator watch' was little more
than a glorified perimeter patrol. Almost everyone was required
to participate, so the shifts were only 3 or 4 hours long. A lot
of the personnel complained that it was a waste of their time,
but there was no getting out of it. At least, officially. Shifts
would sometimes be traded for favors, bribes, the like. Not as
often as some would have liked, however, as there were very few
people willing to make the trade.
"Trip was one of the few who
would. He was practically born in those waters; and he was young
enough to see it as entertainment rather then a chore." Archer
chuckled. "He probably still would. But he managed to trade
shifts for actual work time with the warp drive. It got to the
point where he was trading so many shifts that he was only getting
three or four hours of sleep a night, occasionally taking a weekend
off to crash. But he was finally getting to work on those engines.
He kept working, kept pushing, until he could earn the time with
the engines without the extra 'watch' shifts, until he got acknowledged
on his own merit. It took him a year and a half, but he did it."
Archer finally turned to face Malcolm,
locking gazes with him. "When Trip wants something, he'll
employ any advantage he has, for as long as it takes."
Malcolm finally broke the stare,
looking away and wetting his lips nervously. The captain was obviously
trying to impart some message upon him, and Malcolm wasn't sure
if it was the one he was receiving or not. Blinking, he deflected
the subject away from Archer's last comment.
"Begging your pardon, sir,
but you still haven't explained the ... alligator wrestling..."
he said, trying to hide his uncertainty.
Archer blinked, and leaned back
in his chair. He grinned. "That was Trip's summer job, for
extra cash. He was always so busy at the Warp 5 site that I had
to meet him there. Apparently he started working for the Florida
Wildlife Preserve when he was sixteen -- did you know that when
he was getting his undergrad degree he minored in zoology?"
Malcolm could only blink at the
swiftness with which the topic had again changed. "Captain,
are you --"
"Sssh, he's coming back."
Archer slapped at Malcolm until he lifted his feet back onto the
chair, then he began to right the bottles. "Not a word to
Trip," he murmured.
Malcolm could only nod stupidly.
His gaze was locked on the returning figure of Trip Tucker --
the man was dressed only in the native equivalent of a sarong,
wrapped tight and low around his hips. The fabric hung almost
to his ankles in some places, but unlike Malcolm or Archer, Trip
had accepted the native garb with ease, the patterns brighter
and more garish than any of the horrific Hawaiian shirts he'd
brought with him. His skin was bronzed slightly from half a week's
worth of shore leave in a tropical clime, and his hair seemed
a shade or two lighter as well.
Tucker passed out the drinks he
had gathered, then fell into his own chair with a bounce and a
slight grunt. "I miss anything?"
Archer shook his head. "Malcolm's
still going on about how this place reminds him of Malaysia, sans
allergies."
Trip chuckled, and the conversation
picked up again. Malcolm half-followed it, his mind's eye drifting
down an entirely different path. When they got back to the ship
tonight, he and Trip needed to have a serious talk...