The Cultural Addition
a
Star Trek: Enterprise - based fan fiction
by: Joycelyn Solo

Summary: An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences for Trip, T'Pol, the Enterprise and the future of Humanity.
Author's note: This story takes place Season Three, so expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Enterprise and associated characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery

Chapter Twenty-Five - Are we there yet?

Despite their destination and the potential outcome of their mission, the journey further into the Expanse afforded a lot of unexpected downtime for the Enterprise crew -- and everyone was taking advantage of this opportunity in their own way.

Malcolm Reed, as expected, spent most of his time either in the Armory ensuring the readiness of the ship's weapons or, not so expected, overseeing the unofficial tournament that had developed in the gymnasium. Initially, target practice and hand-to-hand combat had seemed like a good idea when Major Hayes suggested it; a chance for the two security details to learn from one another. Somewhere along the line, a -- not so, at times -- friendly competition developed with the Enterprise security officers leading by two on the phase rifles and the MACOs one match ahead in sparring. And, surprisingly, the "home team's" key player was turning out to be none other than Travis Mayweather. Though the ensign claimed he would never trade his career as a pilot for anything, he'd grown up with three older -- and much larger -- brothers and learned a few tricks of survival along the way.

When he wasn't doting on his pregnant wife or the warp engines, Trip Tucker was determined to master the Vulcan language before the birth of his children. Though the commander was an apt pupil, Hoshi Sato wasn't sure how far an extensive knowledge of nursery rhymes would get the commander on Vulcan -- no matter how well he'd managed to translate "The Little Engine That Could" into the demanding dialect.

While her husband was busy conquering the language of her people, T'Pol was immersed in her own cultural exchange. At Phlox's suggestion, the sub-commander had accessed copies of various child-rearing documents -- written by both Human and Denobulan experts. So far, she found the theories of Baby and Child Care by Dr. Benjamin Spock to be the most informative.

Surprisingly -- to himself as much as anyone else -- Jonathon Archer was spending a lot of off-duty hours in Botany. He'd never had much use for plants before, but Rajiin was fascinated by the various species and their ability to coexist in the artificial environment. Rajiin was also convinced that Archer needed to relax when he wasn't on the Bridge and insisted that the plants would have a calming effect on him. The captain was pretty sure his ability to unwind had very little to do with the foliage and more to do with the presence of Rajiin. No matter how hard he attempted to deny it, Archer couldn't ignore the calming affect the mysterious woman had on him -- and he hadn't decided if that was a good thing or not.

- - -

Leaning into the to comfort of the Bridge command chair, T'Pol resisted the urge to sigh with content and made a mental note to thank her husband when they both returned to their quarters that evening. Though she had not mentioned the affects of sitting in the center seat for an entire duty shift, Trip had apparently sensed her discomfort and installed additional support on her behalf.

This was not Trip's first attempt to subtly make her pregnant life easier. Perhaps because her Human mate understood Vulcans -- T'Pol, in particular -- better than she would have ever given him credit for, he implemented his changes before even asking T'Pol if it was an issue. Had he asked T'Pol's preference beforehand, she would no doubt have denied her discomfort and would not be able to enjoy the sight of her husband wearing as little as possible in their quarters since he had adjusted the temperature to that of a comfortable Vulcan summer evening.

Though she had grown accustomed to the, by her standards, cooler temperature of Enterprise, T'Pol could not deny the pleasure of stepping into their cabin, now.

"We're approaching a cluster of anomalies, Sub-Commander."

Ensign Mayweather's announcement drew T'Pol's attention to the viewscreen. Though she could not see the anomaly field with her own eyes, she felt as though she could sense their presence.

Or perhaps, because of her emotions as a result of the pregnancy, she was more attuned to the heightened emotional state of the crew around her.

T'Pol turned to Lieutenant Gordon, the junior science officer. "Can we plot a course through the cluster?"

Gordon nodded, then caught herself and answered, "Yes, sir." Gordon had never expected to be rotating shifts onto the Bridge and was still adjusting to the demands of answering directly to the senior officers. With her advancing pregnancy, Phlox -- no doubt at Trip's insistence -- demanded that T'Pol reduce her duty shifts. As such, Barbara Gordon -- the most capable of the science corps by T'Pol's estimation -- was being groomed to fill the position.

After Gordon transferred her analysis of the cluster to the conn, T'Pol ordered Travis to proceed. As he did so, she addressed the rest of the ship:

"Tactical alert. We are entering an anomaly field. All hands be prepared for the unexpected."

- - -

Hearing T'Pol's warning about the anomaly field, Jonathon Archer wrestled with the idea of going to the Bridge.

"T'Pol is a perfectly capable commander, Jonathon," Rajiin admonished, placing a hand on the captain's arm.

Shifting uncomfortably on his stool in Botany, Archer regarded the alien woman at his side. "How did you --"

"I did not need to read your thoughts, Jonathon," Rajiin answered, her brow furrowing at his accusation. "I don't need to where your ship or crew are concerned."

Any attempt Archer would have made to apologize was interrupted by the approach of Ensign Isley.

Her earlier displeasure disappeared and Rajiin turned to the botanist. "Pam is going to let me plume the Orcanian ivy."

"It's 'prune,' Rajiin," Isley corrected on impulse, then blanched when she realized she'd just corrected that captain's...whatever Rajiin was...in front of the captain. Though Isley had become familiar with Rajiin during the alien woman's frequent visits to Botany, Isley obviously didn't feel that same level of comfort with Captain Archer.

"Thank you, Pam." Rajiin, ignoring the stricken look on the botanist's face, smiled in appreciation. She then turned to Archer. "Apparently the ivy has been openly hostile toward Pam and the Botany crewmen. Since he hasn't made any aggressive movements in my presence, we're hoping I'll be able to perform the much-needed pruning."

Before Archer could ask about the reference of the ivy as a "he" and "his" hostility issues, the deck rocked violently beneath them.

As the captain, Rajiin and Isley each lost their balance amidst crashing planters, the ensign asked, "Did we hit an anomaly?"

"That's no anomaly effect." The ship shuddered again and Archer frowned gravely. "We're under attack."

- - -

"What have we got?" Archer asked, stepping onto the Bridge with Hoshi close behind. The ensign had been in the Mess Hall when the call for senior officers Bridge had sounded.

"Two Insectoid ships," T'Pol reported, relinquishing the command seat and relieving Gordon at the science station. "They have effectively trapped us in the anomaly field."

A blast rocked the ship, forcing Archer to lunge the last couple of feet toward the center chair. "Are we returning fire?"

Malcolm grabbed his console to remain study. "Phase cannons are off-line, sir, and even before that they didn't seem to be doing much damage."

"What about torpedoes?"

"Both torpedo bays have taken damage," T'Pol supplied.

"So we're sitting ducks." The captain gripped the arms of his chair. "Hull plating?"

"At eighty-percent," Malcolm said, "and falling."

"Travis." The ensign turned to regard the captain, his hope spiking at the calculating look in Archer's eye. "I want you to turn us around and head for the closest ship."

At the young pilot's nod, the captain turned to Malcolm. "Transfer all available power to the forward hullplating."

"We're going to ram them, sir?" Malcolm asked, disbelief evident in his voice.

"They're going to think we are." Archer smiled, the effect lost as a nearby explosion forced him to raise his arms protectively above his head. Recovering, he turned to T'Pol. "When we get close enough, I want you to grapple the Insectoid vessel."

One eyebrow rose at the command, drawing Archer's attention for the first time to the line of blood trickling down the side of the Vulcan's face. Despite her curiosity, T'Pol moved to comply, her fingers moving over the console in compliance.

"Archer to Engineering."

"Tucker here, Cap'n," Trip answered loudly, no doubt shouting over the chaos that was likely happening around him.

"I wanted to warn you that we're going to be a tugboat in a couple minutes, Trip. Can the engines take it?"

"Honestly, I don't know how much more the engines can take, Cap'n, but we'll give you all we've got."

The captain cut the connection, his attention on the viewscreen as Travis completed turning the ship. As he did, the Xindi vessels -- three Insectoid and one Reptilian -- came into view.

"Go ahead, Travis. Full impulse."

"Aye, sir," Travis answered, punching the ship forward.

"How's the hull plating?"

Malcolm, wincing with each hit as though it were a physical blow to his own body, reported, "Holding at seventy-percent."

"T'Pol, are you ready?" Archer asked, looking at the Vulcan. Seeing the determination on her face, the captain simply nodded as he turned back to the viewscreen. "On your mark...now!"

Her aim true, T'Pol shot the grapple line toward the closest -- and, thankfully, smallest -- of the Xindi vessels. Latching onto the forward port, the line whipped the offending vessel around and dragged it behind Enterprise.

The other Xindi vessels, momentarily thrown by this turn of events, ceased firing with an eerie quiet.

Not giving the Xindi a chance to recover their resolve -- and cut through one of their own vessels to get to Enterprise, Archer ordered, "Cut 'em loose, T'Pol. Travis, get us the hell out of here."

"With plea --" Travis' words died on his lips as two more vessels dropped out of warp directly in their path.

"Bloody hell?" Malcolm muttered as he took in the sight before him: an Andorian warship and a Vulcan cruiser.

After a moment, probably in which the two ships wondered why Enterprise had been towing an Insectoid craft in the middle of a skirmish, the new arrivals flanked the Earth vessel and opened fire.

Within moments, the Xindi vessels disappeared into a subspace conduit. As quickly as the attack had begun, it was over.