CHAPTER 12

Jon, after a hushed consultation with T'Pol, decided to ignore the the alien satellite. He regretted that they might be missing a first-contact opportunity with a new civilization, but their orders to bring Violet Bloom, a.k.a. Ensign Jane Smith, to Earth precluded any delays. Perhaps once they finished this assignment, they could return and try to find the probe again.

Finding it might be tricky. According to T'Pol, the probe had indeed shadowed them for a few days before approaching. That might be indicative of caution by the makers of the device, who may have wanted to ensure that a potential contact wasn't hostile. Sensing no apparent danger, it had finally approached Enterprise, but when it didn't receive a response after an hour or so, it had abruptly changed course and went on its way.

All things considered, they'd gotten off easy. He and a few of the crew -- notably Malcolm and Hoshi and "Ensign Smith" -- had only lost a little sleep. The encounter hadn't been anything to do with their passenger.

But Jon also knew the crew was wondering why they hadn't attempted contact since that was a primary objective of their being out in space to begin with. The crew would just have to wonder.

That the probe had approached them during shipboard nighttime had been fortunate. According to Malcolm, his mad dash to the armory with Violet and Hoshi hadn't been observed by anyone. If it had, it would have led to more curiosity about their passenger.

Leaving the bridge under T'Pol's care, Jon returned to his cabin, hoping to get a little more sleep before the morning came.

The alarm clock roused Hoshi from a sound sleep. She looked blearily over at the other bunk to see Violet was already up and dressed.

When they'd returned to the cabin in the wee hours of the morning and had gone back to bed, Violet had tossed and turned in her bunk. Hoshi sympathized. It was always hard to get back to sleep after you'd been rudely woken by a possible crisis in the middle of the night. Once the excitement was over, it still took a while for the adrenaline rush to wear off.

But it looked like Violet hadn't gone back to sleep at all. That explained why Hoshi hadn't been disturbed by snoring and had been able to make the most of her few remaining hours of sleep.

Hoshi quickly showered and dressed, and the two women headed for the mess hall. The conversations of crew members flowed around them in the serving line. The topic of interest this morning was the encounter with the alien probe. Hoshi grateful for that. With a new subject to talk about, no one appeared the least interested in Violet.

They were sitting down at a table when Malcolm and Trip entered the mess hall. Trip was hampered by his injured fingers as he went through the serving line, and had to have Malcolm put food on his plate. The men joined Hoshi and Violet at their table, Trip taking the seat across from Violet rather than the one next to her. That was as far away from her as he could get at the small table.

Violet wouldn't meet Trip's eyes as they began to eat. Hoshi hurriedly leaned over and cut up the slab of ham Trip had with his fried eggs before Violet could offer to do it. Violet with a knife in her hand was not something Hoshi wanted to contemplate.

No one spoke as they concentrating on eating, but Hoshi was sure her roommate would apologize once more to Trip for the debacle in the gym. Either that, or she'd accidentally hurt him again. Hoshi waited to see what it would be -- apology or injury.

A few minutes later she was found out she was half right -- it was an apology, but it came from Trip.

"Listen, 'Jane,'" he began softly after a quick look around for potential eavesdroppers. "I'm sorry I yelled at you last night in the gym. I shouldn't have done that."

Violet's head shot up and she stared at him, blinking as a sudden sheen appeared in her eyes. "You had every right to yell at m...me," she said. "I...I hurt you."

"But I know it was an accident," Trip said, giving her one of his most charming smiles. "Nobody could be that klutzy on purpose." He grimaced, realizing he'd just stuck his foot in his mouth.

Hoshi winced at the unintentional affront but Violet appeared not to realize she'd been insulted. Hoshi glanced at Malcolm and he rolled his eyes. She quickly shifted her gaze to Violet to see if she'd picked up on Malcolm's reaction, but the woman was looking adoringly at Trip, oblivious to the byplay between the other two people at the table.

Or was she? Violet suddenly crossed her legs, and her foot smacked Malcolm in the knee. The tactical officer, his mouth full, grunted and squeezed his eyes shut.

"You OK, Malcolm?" Trip asked, having missed the under-the-table collision.

Malcolm swallowed, opened his eyes, and cleared his throat. "I'm fine," he squeaked. Turning to glare at Violet, he said in a lower, dangerous tone, "I think we're about done here. Let's get a move on, Ensign."

Malcolm got to his feet. Since she was going with him to the armory, Violet had no choice but to follow suit. Trip was still gazing at Malcolm in concern, so Hoshi was the only one who saw the slight smirk that crossed Violet's features as she got to her feet to hurry after Malcolm.

Malcolm had been certain if any accidents were to occur at breakfast, they'd involve Trip. After all, Violet was infatuated with the man. What was that old saying? You only hurt the ones you love?

He could hear Violet's footsteps behind him as he walked down the corridor. It was all he could do not to limp. The last thing he wanted was to give her a reason to break out in a round of pathetic apologies.

As they rounded a curve in the corridor on the way to the turbolift, Jon was approaching from the opposite end. Porthos, his tail wagging and his nose twitching, was trotting along at Jon's heels.

Malcolm nodded in acknowledgment of Jon's greeting and kept walking, anxious to get to the armory and get Violet locked up -- er, properly squared away in his office -- so that he could get on with his usual routine without fear of another injury. He was beginning to think his weapons were safer to be around than Violet.

He glanced back to make sure Violet was following, and sighed.

The woman was frozen with her back up against a bulkhead, staring with wide eyes at the beagle prancing around her feet. Not only was she accident-prone, Malcolm realized as he retraced his steps, but she was afraid of dogs. So much for asking the captain to allow him to "borrow" Porthos to keep Violet company in his office.

"He won't hurt you," the captain was saying. "He's very friendly."

"Th--that's...n--nice," Violet stuttered.

Jon leaned down to pull the dog away just as Violet gathered her courage and bent to pat Porthos on the head. Of course Jon and Violet knocked their heads together. As they staggered a step away from each other, Jon grunted, Violet whimpered, and Porthos, thinking his master was being attacked, began barking furiously.

"Stop that, boy!" Jon said, reaching down again and picking up the dog. Straightening, he shot one last glance at Violet who was mumbling apologies. With a curt, "No, it was my fault," he strode off down the corridor, the dog wiggling in his grasp.

Malcolm had kept his distance during the encounter. He was more than happy to let it play out without becoming involved or becoming a victim. As the captain disappeared around a curve in the corridor, he motioned for Violet to continue toward the turbolift.

"I can't help it," she said with a look of chagrin. "I'm more of a cat person."

When Jon arrived some time later on the bridge, Hoshi was at her station. He headed for his ready room, and he caught her eye and jerked his head to indicate she should come with him.

As soon as the door to his ready room closed, he got right to business. "How'd our guest take that incident last night?"

Hoshi shrugged. "Not too badly. She was scared, but that's to be expected. She seems all right this morning."

Rubbing his forehead where he'd cracked skulls with Violet, he said ruefully, "It's a good thing it's only another week until we deliver her. From what I've heard, she could probably incapacitate the entire crew, given enough time."

"You heard about Trip?" Hoshi couldn't keep the amusement out of her voice as the image of Trip and Violet going down in a tangle under the exercise bike sprang into her mind.

"Doctor Phlox told me last night that he'd splinted one of Trip's fingers," Jon said. "It took a little prying to find out exactly how it happened." He shook his head. "And with those bruises on his face, Malcolm looks like he just came off the rugby field. So far, I've been lucky, but then, I'm not around her very much." Raising his eyebrows as he looked at Hoshi, he added, "And I intend to keep it that way."

"Understood, sir," she said, unable to hide a smile. "I'll keep her away from you."

The beep of the comm sounded in the ready room. Pushing a button on his desk, Jon said, "Archer."

"We're picking up a distress call," came T'Pol's voice.

"I'll be right out," he said. Looking at Hoshi, he said, "We can't ignore a distress call. It takes priority over any other mission we might have. Let's just hope it's nothing serious and we can get back on our way to Earth without too much of a delay."

Archer got to his feet and they went to the door. Before leaving, however, he stopped and looked at Hoshi and said, "Let Malcolm know about this latest development. We don't want him barricading himself and our passenger in the armory unless it's absolutely necessary."