A/N: This episode was a lot of fun to write! It's based on cues taken from the classic TNG episode 2x21 Peak Performance.
As you can probably tell, this is the introduction of the first major plot point in the season. Another comes in the next chapter.
It's easy to see that I love Denobulans. Specifically, I enjoy how brilliant and optimistic they are, but also how intense and determined they can be. With Alira, I wanted to give the cast a character with a B'Elanna vibe, but with the same manic friendliness and intensity we're used to with the Denobulans we've met. Of course, she's also got something to hide.
You may be asking if I can really see the Denobulans being so militaristic. My vague foreshadowing answer is that I can see them fighting tooth and nail to protect their own and their way of life.
I also realize now that I described the mess hall a little like the lunchroom scene in Mean Girls, which is pretty funny to me.
Enjoy! Still don't own anything you recognize.
Season Five
Episode Two: Sentinel
A week and a half after their launch, Lieutenant Sato sat in the mess hall, legs tucked underneath her, nursing a cup of tea.
All around her, her crewmates talked excitedly over their breakfasts, discussing what projects they were working on or who they'd caught snogging who in the service tunnels during a lull in gamma shift. Cliques were already forming, with social factions staking their claims to different tables that they'd return to for every meal, like clockwork, most likely for months.
There were the MACOs seated right next to the door, dressed in their training fatigues, ready to react to a threat at a moment's notice. Right next to them were the engineering non-coms, constantly laughing and playing practical jokes on each other, followed by Lieutenant Cutler's science brigade, who kept their heads buried in their PADDs for the entire duration of the meal. The bridge officers, being well acquainted with mess hall dynamics, had claimed an ideal spot next to the window, equidistant from the replicator and the garbage chute.
When times were good, it never failed to surprise her just how similar the Enterprise was to the average high school.
When times were bad, however, prior experience had proved it was a living hell.
The door slid open and issued Ensign Singh and Lieutenant Mayweather, who were deep in conversation and scarcely noticed when Hoshi waved at them from across the room. After some delay they joined her, sliding into seats across from one another.
"Good morning," she greeted them, hoping to gain some real estate in the conversation. "Dita, how did you sleep?"
"Like a baby," she admitted, digging into her bowl of fruit. "I never could rest well planet-side. It's like I need to feel the walls moving in order to settle down."
Travis laughed. "I feel the exact same way! You know, it's crazy, we must have encountered your parents' ship a dozen times over the years."
"And we've never met before now," Dita marveled, shaking her head. "I'm not surprised you remembered the Saraswati. She was, and still is, the finest and fastest ship in the ECS."
Travis looked doubtful. "Is that so?"
"Unquestionably," she answered plainly. After a moment she set down her fork and sat back in her chair. "Though I only lived there for ten years, I could have easily stayed my entire life."
Hoshi smiled at that. Over the course of the past few days, Ensign Singh had inserted herself naturally into the fold of the bridge crew, winning them over with her persistent positive attitude and natural empathy. They knew about how she'd spent her early childhood in northern India, before her father resolved to purchase a cargo ship, convincing much of their extended family to join them in the process. She had left to attend university, before lending her translation services to the United Earth Council offices in Mumbai, eventually leading into to her teaching at Cambridge, followed by a long stint managing communications and logistics for the Earth Cargo Authority. Laying their careers side by side, Hoshi was stunned by just how much she'd managed to accomplish in her thirty-four years.
"Why did you make the switch?" Travis asked, genuinely curious.
Dita's eyes lit up and she stole a quick glance around the room. She then leaned forward and whispered, "Are you kidding? Mr. Mayweather, Enterprise has the record of going farther and encountering more alien species than any other vessel in Earth history. As soon as the position opened up, I knew I had to put my hat in the ring."
"And your husband, do you think he's going to make the switch as well?" He followed up, not noticing the reproachful look Hoshi dealt him.
Lieutenant Arvind Singh was a warp drive attendant aboard the NX-03 Cochrane, which had been exploring the beta quadrant for the greater part of the past six months. From what Dita told her, they'd spent a majority of the past two years apart due to conflicting training schedules. Their separation had been extremely difficult, but ultimately necessary. A couple with a less strong relationship wouldn't have lasted, so they were certainly lucky they'd met long before either one of them was even considering commissioning.
Hoshi had heard that the life of a career Starfleet officer was destined to be a lonely one, and wondered if companionship would ever be in the cards for her.
Dita frowned, hiding her face between her steepled fingers. She was silent for quite some time, long enough for Travis to start to worry if he'd offended her. Eventually, she gave them a small, sad smile. "I hope he can. Just to get aboard the Enterprise is hard enough. For most, the waiting list is hundreds long."
Travis finally made direct eye contact with Hoshi, shaking his head, a smirk crossing his lips. "Hundreds long, huh? Hoshi, I'm glad we joined when we did. We never would have made it otherwise."
She burst out laughing, reaching over to smack his shoulder. "Speak for yourself!"
Just at that moment, they felt the familiar lurch of the ship dropping out of warp underneath their feet, a slight dragging force pulling them backwards. One second, there was nothing, and then the next, the great circle of Denobula appeared outside their window.
For a great deal of the crew, this was the first alien world they'd seen in person. Almost immediately, they gathered around the window, talking over one another excitedly.
Denobula was a world not too unlike their own, but slightly smaller, with a single continent covering about a third of the planet. There were small patches of intense green, but a majority of the continent was metropolitan, boasting a population of twelve billion that gave those areas a slight brownish-gray tinge. The great ocean was a striking shade of sapphire much more vibrant than Earth's, seeming to swirl and churn from even such a long distance away. The sea was studded with many small islands, forming chains and archipelagos in delicate geometric shapes.
Sato could have stayed and looked on for the rest of the day, but she had business to attend to. As she stood and turned to leave, Travis called out from the window: "Hoshi, why don't you stay? We've got plenty of time!"
She shook her head. "I wish I could, but duty calls."
Before he could ask what she meant, she was out the door and en route to the ward room.
Captain's log, July 11th, 2155: We have entered orbit of Denobula, the first stop of our six month democratic mission. Lieutenant Sato has taken it upon herself to prepare us for this afternoon's discussions, where we will meet several key political figures influential in the general public's acceptance of the Coalition referendum. It is critical that we win them over.
"I should hope these negotiations are quick, otherwise I'm going to burn up in this thing," Malcolm complained, pulling at his jacket.
From the window where he'd been watching the patrol ships of the Denobulan Infantry guide them into orbit, Trip extended his arms, rolling up his sleeves a fraction of an inch. "I think it looks good on you, Lieutenant Commander. Really shows off your figure."
Malcolm scoffed, and Hoshi had to hide her smile behind her palm. The formal uniforms were a new addition to the fleet dress code, having been reinstated with the launching of the NX-04 Phoenix just the previous month. She'd been surprised to find them already hanging in her closet when she'd arrived; they were made of slightly thicker material than their regular coveralls, with limited decoration save for their pips, the Enterprise patch, and a long, silver zipper than stretched diagonally from the right hip to the left shoulder. The jacket ended in a sharp taper at the waist, and was complemented by matching navy blue trousers. There had also been the option of an A-line skirt that ended abruptly at the knees, as well as a long overcoat that rather looked like a dress, for both men and women, but she hadn't wanted to push her luck on their first away mission.
Before Malcolm could open his mouth to respond, the door opened and T'Pol and Archer entered the room, seemingly in a rush. They didn't so much as look at each other as they sat down.
The Captain nodded towards Hoshi, and she activated the screen on her PADD, scrolling through the hundreds of pages of information they'd compiled. "The Denobulan delegation is likely to be our most cooperative set of diplomats, so it's important we make the right first impression. I'm assuming you all read the cultural briefing that was sent out to you, but just as a reminder-"
She leaned across the table to Archer, who immediately reached out to her, holding up his right arm at a forty-five degree angle pointing up from the table, which Hoshi mirrored. He then extended his left hand and placed it in the same position about six inches above the right, and together the two of them gently flexed their fingertips inward toward the other's palms, not touching, but coming very close.
Lieutenant Sato broke off and sat back down. "That's the customary greeting between business associates or strangers on Denobula. They don't like to be touched. In fact, in some contexts it can be seen as a great offense, so don't get carried away while socializing."
Pressing a few buttons, she called up the image of their first delegate to the screen on the wall. He was an elderly man, with stark white hair and deep wrinkles which made his cranial ridges much more pronounced. "This is Zanthras, the Chancellor of the Supreme Council, a career politician. He'll be leading the talks. From what we could gather, he loves to tease visiting delegates. Just play along, laugh at his jokes, and you'll be fine."
Their next representative was a middle aged woman, with long dark hair that had been braided in a series of elaborate plaits cascading over her shoulder. Her smile was much more understated, serene, but the glint in her eye foretold that she didn't suffer fools lightly. "This is who you really need to impress. Ambassador Lexora was at the initial Coalition talks, and her opinion holds a lot of sway over the general populace. She's a former major general of the Denobulan Infantry, so her concern lies mainly with the strategic importance of the alliance to the defense of their system."
Who knew the Denobulans were a species so concerned with tactics? Malcolm thought, but didn't know the half of it.
Hoshi continued to describe the particular concerns and political leanings of the delegates until she finally reached the end of the list and handed the meeting back over to the Captain.
"I understand that Ensign Taxa, the new tactical officer for the Maelstrom, will be meeting us at these talks. She's been personally assigned to handle Commodore Archer's security during this mission, as well as supervising the MACO contingent, until she can assume her normal duties. Her commissioning was expedited on an act of good faith to the Denobulans, and I expect complete cooperation from all of you," T'Pol explained, punctuating the last few words.
Malcolm appeared upset, but he said nothing, looking towards Archer for some kind of explanation. When he was met only with a curt nod, he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. He knew better than to question his superior in a public setting like this.
"The Supreme Council will be expecting us presently," she said pointedly. As she stood, the rest of the officers followed, and they began to follow her in the direction of the transporter.
Passing through the bridge, Archer made some sort of comment to Lieutenant Mayweather about holding down the fort while they were gone, which earned them a laugh and an extra round of reassurance.
Once they were out of earshot of the Commodore, Malcolm leaned towards Tucker and whispered, "A Denobulan tactical officer?"
Trip clapped him on the shoulder. "Just accept it, Malcolm. From what I've been reading of her credentials, it looks like she could kick your ass."
He laughed at that, shaking his head in a way that conveyed his disbelief and…something else.
Bringing up the front of their procession, Archer asked T'Pol, "Is Phlox coming down with us? I take it at least one of his wives is still planetside."
"I informed him he was welcome to, but he refused. Something about Denobulans being patient," she replied.
Archer sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, thinking about his first official assignment in a diplomatic capacity. "I hope that's true."
She peered over her shoulder, making sure they were out of earshot of the others. Then, she stepped a fraction of an inch closer to him, so that their shoulders were nearly touching as they walked. "I believe you told me last week...you're going to be just fine."
A look passed between them, like sparks to a flame.
Denobula's capital city was unquestionably beautiful, if not densely packed and a little claustrophobic.
They beamed down in the expansive gardens in front of the council chambers, and immediately realized they were surrounded by high rise buildings so tall they brushed the clouds, arranged in neat, orderly rows and stretching out in any direction for as far as the eye could see. They were painted in soft, muted colors: slate gray, baby blue, even a blush pink. From the other side of the fence and all around them, they could hear the constant thrum of the city, hovercars rushing by and people talking, shouting, laughing.
Archer came to the conclusion that he'd never seen so many smiles in one place before.
"Man, Novakovich would have a field day down here," Tucker remarked, referring to the ship's resident botanist. The nearest patch of grass was as crowded as the city skyline, stuffed with many different species of flowering plants. As the four of them watched, he reached across the barricade to cup one of the blossoms, a flower with diamond shaped petals that seemed to be opening and closing slowly, as if inhaling and exhaling.
"I wouldn't touch that if I were you," came the warning from somewhere far away. Malcolm looked one direction down the path and then the other, before looking up and noticing someone in a Starfleet uniform striding with purpose directly toward them.
Taxa was fair and bright eyed, with a high ponytail of honey blonde curls that bounced when she walked. She was full-figured and broad-shouldered in a way that betrayed her athleticism, but still moved with incredible grace. Malcolm found himself captivated and momentarily silenced by her beauty.
As she came closer to them, she warned, "That specimen can spit venom up to ten meters away, Commander."
As Tucker took several large steps away, she moved on to Archer and T'Pol. "Ensign Alira Taxa reporting for duty," she exclaimed, not even for a second being able to hide the broad Denobulan smile teasing at the corners of her lips.
"At ease, Ensign," T'Pol replied, extending her right hand in the way Hoshi had demonstrated earlier. To her surprise, Alira seized it in a human handshake, though she looked more than a little uncomfortable doing it.
She shook Archer's hand as well, saying, "It's an honor to meet you all. Phlox has told me so much about you."
Malcolm shot a questioning look at Trip, who soon realized that he didn't know the particulars of Alira's lineage. "That's Feezal's daughter with one of her other husbands," he whispered, watching his eyes light up with understanding.
Next came Lieutenant Sato, who she complimented on her ingenuity, then Trip, who had been awaiting their meeting with trepidation. To his surprise, her greeting was strictly professional, though friendly: "So you're my future CO. I look forward to getting to know you, Commander Tucker."
"Likewise," he said, trying and failing to mask his relief.
Finally she reached the end of the line and extended her hand. "So you're the infamous Lieutenant Commander Reed. It's a pleasure to meet you."
He slowly reached out and took it, holding her hand for perhaps longer and tighter than was necessary. "The pleasure is all mine," he assured her.
"I hear you're good." Though it was subtle, he could feel her eyes on him, sizing him up.
"I hear you're better," he replied.
"You'll find out," she said, barely above a whisper, before pulling away from him. She turned and quickly approached the front of the line. "Commodore Archer, you'll be gratified to know that every delegate has been searched for unauthorized weapons, explosives, and listening devices. Infantrymen have conducted a full sensor sweep on the building and found nothing worthy of concern. There's a dampening field in place in the council chamber which will suppress external weapons fire. I'll be by your side the entire afternoon. Do you have any questions?"
Archer was shocked that Starfleet Command would take his security so seriously, but he was impressed. "Can't say that I do. Great work, Ensign."
She suddenly clapped her hands together in excitement. "Excellent. Let's proceed," Taxa then began to lead them out of the garden and into the building, walking two steps to the left of Archer, hand resting protectively over her phase pistol.
As they walked, Malcolm seized the opportunity to tease Trip: "I have to say, you don't seem like her type."
Trip laughed quietly, nudging him with his shoulder. "No, Mal, but you do."
The chambers of the Supreme Council were situated adjoining a great marble hall on all sides, with a towering domed ceiling that revealed the corridors of several upper floors. The sound of their footsteps were amplified as they made their way across the floor towards a massive round table in the center of the room which was braced with four massive columns, each wider than the lot of them standing abreast.
A cluster of Denobulans stood around the table engrossed in conversation, their voices echoing around the room and melding together into indecipherable background noise. As they came closer, two of them split off from the group, a squat older gentleman and a tall woman. Ensign Taxa made a swift cutting motion with her hand, urging them to stop, and they complied, letting the dignitaries come to them.
"Chancellor Zanthras, Ambassador Lexora, I would like to introduce Commodore Archer and Captain T'Pol of the Enterprise."
"We've met before, briefly," the Ambassador reminded them. Her voice was soft and feminine, completely at odds with her imposing demeanor.
"I hope you're well," Archer said, reaching forward to initiate the traditional greeting Hoshi had taught them.
She reciprocated the gesture before turning to the Captain. "I am, and even more so that Enterprise has arrived. We have been looking forward to these talks for quite some time."
"You honor us with your dedication to the Coalition negotiations," T'Pol reassured her, stealing a glance around the room. "Doctor Phlox has been telling my crew stories about his home world for years."
"I'm even sure some of them were true," the Chancellor chimed in with a wry smile, leaning in to greet them. "The Ambassador and I have enjoyed reviewing Phlox's monthly reports. I'm sure that in some matters we know even more than Starfleet Command."
Malcolm smiled politely, though he privately wondered exactly to what depths his knowledge of their misadventures reached. Wisps? Quasi-Western towns on distant worlds? Xyrillians?
"Yes, just as Phlox represents the best the Scientific Authority has to offer, our Alira is the pride of the Infantry. I have trusted her with my life on many an occasion, Commodore. I assure you, when it comes to personal security and battlefield strategy, there is no one better," Lexora affirmed.
"I feel safer already," Archer said somewhat awkwardly, before seemingly remembering the others in their landing party. He introduced them one by one, before landing on Malcolm, who was trying his best to look friendly.
"Ah, Mr. Reed! I have also hear tales of your prowess on the battlefield," the Ambassador crowed. Before he could respond, he'd already moved back to addressing the Commodore. "You must make use of our war games simulation field while you're in the sector. We have a great many ships at your disposal, including an old Earth impulse transport. You'll find it beyond our fifth moon."
The what now? He cut a glance to Archer, who was presently holding eye contact with T'Pol, seeming to have an entire conversation without any words.
"The crew of the Columbia found great value in them when they passed through a couple of months ago," the Ambassador added. "Even the Vulcans have stopped by a time or two."
Malcolm was still watching his commanding officers to determine exactly how he should react. As he looked on, Alira leaned back from where she stood at the other side of Archer, and if it were possible, her smile grew a fraction of a centimeter wider.
At last, the Captain spoke. "We would be happy to accept. Although, it would probably do little good for the Commodore and I to engage in simulated combat. We've worked together so long that our tactics would be too similar."
"This is a diplomatic mission, after all," Archer reminded no one in particular. Reed wasn't sure he'd ever seen him look so uncomfortable.
The smiles on the delegates' faces were beginning to fall, so Malcolm interrupted, "I'd be glad to challenge Ensign Taxa to the first round."
To his left, almost simultaneously, Archer and T'Pol turned their heads to issue him a grateful look. In the Captain's case, it was little more than the raise of an eyebrow, but the message was well and truly received.
The Ambassador seemed pleased with this. "Excellent! Please." She gestured to the table, where the rest of the delegates were beginning to take their seats.
As they began to disperse, Tucker whispered, "God, that was painful. The mission with the Andorians and Tellarites was less awkward."
"Trip, that week was miserable," Hoshi admonished, nodding towards the Commodore. "He'll get better. He's just out of practice dealing with alien factions when they're not at each other's throats."
Before walking away, Trip nodded towards Malcolm, smirking mischievously. "I'd brush up on your Art of War if I were you, Mal."
It was now beginning to sink in exactly what he'd agreed to.
Malcolm caught a glimpse of two infantrymen standing in the shadows of the columns on the second floor, shielding their weapons from view while keeping a watchful eye on the assembly below. It was unsettling enough to see Denobulans carrying assault style weapons, not to mention the fact that no one else seemed to pay them any mind.
"Are these your men?" He asked Ensign Taxa as he sat down.
She nodded. From her position standing directly behind Archer, she leaned over and whispered: "I'm no fool, Mr. Reed, and Denobula is no paradise."
He had read in Hoshi's cultural briefing of the recent resurgence of xenophobia on their world, beginning with an ingrained mistrust of the Antarans and only being bolstered by the recent actions of Terra Prime. He wasn't exactly sure as to the extent of the problem, but if it was enough to have armored guards at government meetings, he was sure that Taxa had reason to fear for Archer's safety.
At the head of the table, the Chancellor stood, shuffling through the pile of PADDs in front of him. A hush fell over the room.
"Welcome all to the first of what I suspect will be a great many meetings concerning our involvement in this proposed Coalition of Planets. Members of the Supreme Council, joining us today are honored guests from the United Earth flagship, Enterprise," he began, nodding towards the Captain.
T'Pol rose to a chorus of polite nods and smiles. "We thank the people of Denobula for your hospitality. In these times of unrest, Starfleet hopes to forge an alliance that will benefit both of our worlds for centuries to come."
Everyone in the room knew exactly what she meant by that. Over the past few months, the Romulan threat only grew as far-flung worlds reported activity along the border. It was only a matter of time before they acted once again, and this time, they would likely involve every planetary superpower in the quadrant. The atmosphere in the room was suddenly dour, focused.
"Thank you, Captain," Ambassador Lexora said, pressing a button which brought a holographic screen to life in the middle of the table, the same information triplicated on each panel in a triangular formation. "Let us begin with a discussion of the proposed protected interplanetary corridor between Earth and Denobula for trading purposes."
The negotiations seemed to go for hours and hours. Ensign Taxa seemed to be holding up, standing stock still behind Archer as she continued to survey the room. Hoshi was following along on her tricorder, checking the UT with what she knew of the language. Only Tucker was struggling to stay awake, leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, chin slowly dropping to his chest.
Malcolm nudged him, causing him to snap back to consciousness. Several scientists were beginning to filter into the hall, filling in the seats at the far end of the table. "Look who it is!"
He would have recognized that smile from ten light years away. Feezal, Phlox's second wife, now sat almost directly across from him, scrolling idly through some reference materials. As she hadn't seen him just yet, Trip preemptively slid down in his seat, until his chin was sticking above the edge of the table by mere inches.
The sound of the material of their infernal dress blues on the chair caught her attention, and she looked up, but didn't seem to be paying much attention to them. As Malcolm watched, she made eye contact with her daughter, raising her eyebrows and offering her a gesture that he could only assume was equivalent to a thumbs up. Alira shook her head and grinned, looking down at the ground.
Now that they were in the same room, the resemblance was uncanny.
"Aren't their marriages completely open?"
"What's your point?"
"I'm just saying, you could still pursue her if you wanted-"
"That's not the point, Malcolm!"
Hoshi turned and held a finger up to her lips to shush them. Trip gave her a look dripping with consternation, then hissed at Malcolm: "It doesn't matter, she's a married woman, and the mother of a direct report."
"And you're a good Southern gentleman, got it," he shot back. And to think he'd just been teasing him about Ensign Taxa!
A PADD slid down the table from Archer's direction. His message was unmistakable, written in large white letters: BOTH OF YOU, SHUT UP.
As soon as it arrived, Malcolm sent it shooting back, suddenly tremendously embarrassed to have been caught speaking during such an important meeting. The Captain caught it before it could reach Archer, who was engaged in answering a question directed at him by the Minister of Agriculture.
If looks could kill…
The Chancellor interrupted his tour of shame. "Splendid, now that that's settled, let's move on to our next order of business. I'll yield the floor to the lead specialist assigned to the Kandar project."
Hoshi frowned. "Kandar...that's not in the UT. Must be a proper noun."
Alira leaned forward and whispered in the silent space between presenters: "The closest translation would be watchman or sentinel."
Across the room, Feezal stood, interfacing her PADD with the view screens. "Members of the Supreme Council, distinguished guests, this is Kandar, the third moon of Tarod IX, an uninhabited world recently annexed by Denobula."
She reached down to manipulate the screen on her device, zooming in from a wide view of the system to a small, rocky moon, not unlike Earth's own. "Our scouts have discovered it possesses an unusually elliptical orbit that keeps it on one side of the planet a vast majority of the time. Its strategic positioning gives rise to the ideal location for the next generation of long-range satellite developed by my quantum optics laboratory at Scientific Authority headquarters."
The view screen changed again, depicting a geodesic dome made of many sensor dishes situated around the base of a telescope. As the assembled delegates looked on, the optical tube extended, growing nearly four times its size, bringing forth an objective lens made of many honeycombed cells.
"What the Kandar satellite lacks in range, it makes up for in detail. From hundreds of light years away, it can detect the composition of the Sandinna comet, down to the molecular level," she explained, drawing up the results of their analysis. "Its potential benefits to the scientific and military communities cannot be overstated. We are asking for United Earth cooperation in material procurement and manpower for implementation."
As they quietly studied the planned viewing area of the satellite, Archer slowly came to a realization. Raising his voice slightly above normal levels, he asked, "Doctor, let's be clear. Are you asking for our assistance in building a surveillance satellite along the border with Romulan space?"
To her credit, Feezal didn't react, looking across the table at him with an even expression. "Let's be clear, I certainly am. The data we gather will be shared with all of the worlds in our alliance as a way to guard against the impending Romulan threat."
No one said anything for an indeterminable amount of time. The smiles on the faces of the Denobulan council members were perfectly impassible and positively unnerving. Hoshi tapped her fingers on the tabletop nervously.
"We would like some time to review the particulars of this project before we deliver our final decision," Captain T'Pol said finally, not taking her eyes off the view screen.
Chancellor Zanthras stood. "By all means. We will adjourn until tomorrow afternoon."
The view screen suddenly disappeared and the delegates began to move about the room.
"Ensign, is there a private place the Captain and I could talk?" Archer asked.
She shook her head. "Yes, sir, but I'm afraid I can't let you leave my sight. We'll use one of the antechambers."
Trip made eye contact with Archer and tilted his head in the direction of the hallway, as if asking if they'd mind the company, but was met with a firm indication of the negative.
As the three of them watched, their commanding officers swiftly exited the chamber, followed shortly by their new tactical officer.
"This seems like a severe escalation. If the Romulans discover it, it may even be interpreted as an act of war," Archer said, pacing the length of the room. He would reach one end, pivot on his heels, and return to the other, passing his companion sitting at the table.
Ensign Taxa stood in front of the closed door, arms crossed behind her back, pretending not to eavesdrop but doing a poor job of it.
T'Pol didn't so much as look up from her study of the telescope specifications. "The Romulans have already escalated our conflict with them, if you consider their recent attempt to destabilize the region."
Archer stopped in his tracks and turned away from her, clenching his fists at his sides. He couldn't believe that his pragmatic, perfectly rational Captain was even giving Feezal's proposal a second thought. The sanctuary at P'Jem notwithstanding, he couldn't help but wonder what she would have said about the idea of training surveillance satellites onto hostile worlds at the start of her mission.
"This isn't an ordinary telescope, T'Pol," he warned, approaching her and taking the PADD from her hands. "With this kind of technology, we'll be able to see what every man, woman, and child on the Romulan homeworld is having for breakfast!"
She didn't appear fazed. "We have yet to make visual contact with the Romulans. Data on their ships, weapons, and living practices may prove to be invaluable."
"We know all we need. They want to prevent the Coalition from forming. We're stronger when we act together, not when we're hiding on some moon watching them perform target practice from five hundred light years away."
"If we consider the fact that they knew enough about humans to attempt to thwart our alliance, they've presumably already been holding surveillance over all of our worlds for quite some time. Their attempts to halt our progress will only grow as the Coalition becomes stronger."
Archer wasn't convinced. "And how will the Denobulans defend Kandar if they're discovered? We can't just park a ship out there to keep watch, and we can't rush out there every time there's trouble. And we weren't an even match for them tactically, so there's no way in hell the Denobulans would be either."
"We must accept that there will soon be armed conflict between our alliance and the Romulans. It's not enough to delay the inevitable. We must be ready before they strike."
"I'm trying to prevent a war!" He exclaimed, coming to stand directly in front of her.
"So am I!" She echoed, rising to her feet and directly meeting his gaze. He'd only seen that fire in her eyes a couple of times before, and every time it shook him to his core.
In his peripheral vision, Alira was desperately trying to avert her eyes from their confrontation. He inhaled slowly and held it, realizing if he moved forward even a fraction of an inch, he'd bump foreheads with his Captain. He took a giant step back.
It was as if all the tension had been diffused from the room. T'Pol visually relaxed, the great curtain of composure falling over her expression once again.
"And what do you make of the situation, Ensign Taxa?" She asked.
"Me, ma'am?" She sounded surprised. Her commanding officer returned nothing but a nod. "I agree with you, Captain. It would be foolish not to be prepared. The Romulans have made their intentions clear, and it's only a matter of time before their tactics become more direct and deadly."
T'Pol looked at him, a direct challenge, raising an eyebrow as if to say, I told you so.
"I also find it quite foolish and tactically disadvantageous to send the ship's five highest ranking officers on the same diplomatic mission," Alira declared boldly, meeting his surprised expression with a broad smile. "If I may make a suggestion, sir."
It was then Jonathan knew that he was going to like his chief of security.
"I think we've been hiding for long enough," he said, gathering the PADDs scattered around the table. "Let's go and join the others."
That evening, Malcolm met their senior officers' contingent in the mess hall for dinner. He'd finally freed himself from the constraints of their dreadful dress uniforms and changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, which got more than a few curious looks from the crew. He supposed that save for their resident Vulcan, he was perceived to be most focused on propriety.
None of that mattered, for he had a Herculean task ahead of him. So focused was he on reading the most up to date version of the official war games guidelines that he nearly walked headlong into the window. Hoshi had been watching him from the moment he entered the room and acted preemptively, moving his usual seat out from the table so he'd more or less fall into it.
He made a rather ungraceful sound as he sat down, throwing his PADD onto the table and hurriedly tucking into his meal. "Have any of you read the rules for this?"
"I skimmed it," Travis admitted, "Just so I can be prepared to watch you lose to Ensign Taxa."
Malcolm scoffed, holding a hand to his chest in mock offense. "You wound me, Travis. After all we've been through?"
Lieutenant Cutler retrieved the literature and read aloud: "The two challengers have forty-eight hours and a complement of forty people each to prepare for the exercise. There's one rule, and it's a simple one: No sabotage or conduct that is unbecoming of an officer in the service."
"Well, that eliminates everything Malcolm knows how to do," Hoshi cut in with a grin, ignoring the aggrieved look she was dealt.
"They're going to disconnect the weapons and hook them up to a modified laser pulse beam. The damage from these hits will be registered electronically, and our systems will shut down in accordance with the projected repair time. We're allowed to travel at warp five if we want to, but we can't leave the system," he explained.
Beside him, Ensign Singh patted his shoulder reassuringly. "It sounds like a formidable task, Mr. Reed, but I know you can pull through."
"And if you don't believe he can, there's always the ship's betting pool," Travis said, producing his personal PADD seemingly out of nowhere. "We're at eighty percent participation. Even the Captain and the Commodore are in on it."
"Really?" Liz blurted out, leaning over to try and catch a glimpse of the stakes. "Which way did they go?"
"Never you mind," Ensign Singh scolded, attempting to salvage the situation. Suddenly she stood and waved at someone who had just entered the room, causing everyone at the table to turn and look.
Alira was also dressed casually, seemingly already settled in to the ship. Malcolm averted his eyes as she approached them, not even looking up as she slid into the last seat at the table.
"I don't believe we've met," Dita said, reaching out for the customary greeting included in their cultural briefings. "I'm Ensign Singh, deputy communications specialist."
"Ensign Taxa," she replied, surprising Dita in the same way she had to the rest of them planetside. Following a brisk handshake, they separated, and she turned her attention to Lieutenant Cutler.
"You must be Elizabeth. I've seen you in so many photographs, and Phlox has told me so much about you. I regret that we haven't met before now. My mother and half-mothers simply gush about you," she said.
Their science officer shook her head. "I don't believe we met at the family compound when we were there about a month ago."
"A month ago I was still a Commander in the infantry," she confessed, folding her hands in her lap. "And now I'm here. I believe the human expression is, time flies."
Everyone seemed to have a laugh at that. All things considered, it struck Malcolm just how odd Alira and Liz's relationship was. Though Cutler had yet to marry the doctor, there was certainly some commitment there, so he supposed Liz was a step-mother to their new tactical officer in some respects, even though Alira was almost certainly twice her age or more.
"Have you been looking over the rules for the battle simulation?" Hoshi asked, passing them over from across the table.
She politely refused them. "I suspected the Chancellor would extend us the same courtesy that he did the Columbia, so I've been preparing for a couple of days."
Just his luck.
"Any idea who will get first pick of their vessel? I assume Enterprise will be in contention," Travis inquired, working away at his stakes.
Alira struck a contemplative expression, glancing in Malcolm's direction. "I suppose we'll let the computer decide, and the other will have their pick of several impressive-looking fifty year old freighters."
The conversation soon descended into recounting the day's negotiations, and the best time to go to the gym to avoid the crowd, and what days Chef laid out the best desserts. Their newest officer was an excellent conversationalist, taking her turn in addressing everyone at the table at some point. She was upbeat and positive, two things that Malcolm certainly wasn't a vast majority of the time.
"Do you have a large family, Alira?" Hoshi asked innocently some time later, though she probably knew what the answer would be.
"Why, of course. My mother had nine children, of which six of us are married at least twice over, with children of their own. I'm close with several of my half-fathers as well and their other wives. It never ends, really. If you were to draw out my family tree, it would easily take up this entire wall," she replied with a laugh.
"Did you leave anyone planetside?" Dita was probably thinking about her husband, half a quadrant away.
She shrugged. "I'm not married, if that's what you're asking. My career comes first, it always has."
Before Malcolm could stop himself or pay heed to the impact of his words, he commented, "Quite unusual for a Denobulan."
Cutler's fork stopped halfway to her mouth. Her eyes went wide.
Slowly, Alira turned to face him. Her eyes were blank, but her smile was dangerous. "And just how is a Denobulan supposed to live, think, and behave in your distinguished opinion, Lieutenant Commander?"
His rank came out like a curse word. It was that instant he knew he was in trouble. "I just mean that a majority of Denobulans-"
"I know what you meant," she snapped, standing suddenly. Every eye in the room was now turned to her, but she didn't seem to notice. Leaning forward, she came within a few centimeters of his face. "You know what? You can have your pick of your ship and your crew."
Keeping the rest of her body still, she slammed her chair into the table, causing it to shake considerably. Malcolm flinched.
"You can take whatever advantage you can find in that manual. You're going to need it," she hissed, before making a hasty exit from the mess hall.
As he walked onto the bridge the next morning, Malcolm was half expecting a reprimand from Archer, or else another thorough verbal beatdown. Word had spread of their altercation, and everyone in the corridors looked at him like he was a man walking to his execution.
To his surprise, he found Ensign Taxa at his station, pretending like nothing had happened. She looked up from the console as he approached and smiled, clandestinely disconnecting her tricorder from the interface point.
"Good morning, Lieutenant Commander. Did you rest well?"
Malcolm thought he would be a fool if he wasn't at least suspicious of her sudden mood shift. Nevertheless, he joined her at the second chair at their station, scarcely noticing as she hurriedly hit the window she'd been looking at. "Tossed and turned. I kept thinking about the simulation."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, tactics and whatnot. I've been thinking about what you said. I'll gladly take the Enterprise, but I want you to have your pick of a crew," he said, reaching towards the console she'd been working on.
Alira suddenly shifted forward, covering the screen with her elbows and bracing her upper body against them. A shadow of panic crossed her expression, before she steeled herself and replied, "That's very kind of you, Mr. Reed. I ought to accept."
"You ought to?"
"But I won't," she snapped. As he watched, she took a deep breath and followed it up with an acerbic: "Sir."
He didn't have time to question that, for in the next moment the turbolift doors opened to reveal the Commodore, looking very frustrated indeed. As they watched, he trudged his way to the conn and took his seat next to the Captain, who looked at him expectantly.
"I thought that was never going to end," Archer said, handing over the PADD he'd been carrying. "It seems like every single one of the Admirals is on your side about the Kandar project."
"That is gratifying to hear," T'Pol said, quickly scrolling through the meeting's minutes. "I should have been there to speak on the Vulcan perspective. Perhaps I could have assisted in ensuring their comments were kept brief."
Jonathan scoffed at that. "That's the difference between you and me. These days, you captain a starship and gets things done. I just do...this." He sat ramrod straight and leaned forward, mimicking an active listening position, nodding vigorously.
"Being named Commodore is a great honor," she reminded him.
"I know that," he conceded, "I just wish it were a little more action and a little less listening to Admirals who just want to hear themselves talk."
"If Commander Tucker were here, he would tell you not to jinx it."
Beside him, Alira chuckled softly. "Like an old married couple, those two," she whispered.
"You don't know the half of it," Malcolm whispered back.
As if on cue, they looked in the direction of the tactical station, as if they suddenly remembered they weren't alone on the bridge. Malcolm and Alira quickly averted their gazes, but not quickly enough.
"I understand each vessel is required to have a mediator and observer on board to monitor the proceedings of the simulation. I believe it would be appropriate for the Commodore and myself to serve to that effect," T'Pol said.
Malcolm nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I thought I might choose the Commodore for my contingent."
Jonathan couldn't help but tease her, "It's only appropriate. I was here first, after all."
If the Captain was offended by that remark, she didn't show it. "And I will supervise Ensign Taxa. As you have twenty-four hours remaining to prepare, Ensign, I suggest that you select your complement and transport over to the Solstice."
She was referring to the forty year old Earth transport presently docked off of their port bow. Of all the vessels she had to choose from, it had been the most salvageable, with a functioning impulse drive and a primitive form of laser weaponry. It was doubtful that she or her crew would rest at all until the simulation began in their bid to make it functional, but she was determined to make it work.
"We'll commence the simulation at 1000 hours tomorrow," she continued, "The Commodore and I will be going planetside to continue the Coalition negotiations. Please use Commander Tucker as a logistical resource in the interim."
"Ma'am, I would rather accompany-"
"We'll be taking a couple MACOs with us for security. Please, use the next day to prepare. That's an order, Ensign," Archer said, though he was smiling faintly.
"Yes, sir," Alira answered quietly, and the two of them resumed their work in silence.
Not a second after the Captains retreated to the turbolift, Alira swiveled her chair around to face him. From behind his head Malcolm could feel her eyes on him, and could hear her boot tapping on the deck plating impatiently.
"If you could be so kind as to select your crew, Mr. Reed. I don't have all day."
The following morning, Alira sat in the Captain's chair of the Solstice, scrolling through her tactical plan as the rest of her crew hurried around her.
From the comm, which they'd jury-rigged out of an old computer view screen, a mess of wires, and an overturned bucket, Ensign Singh called out, "A message from Mr. Reed. He'd like to let you know you have only ten minutes left, and you'd better be prepared to lose."
She had to laugh at that. "Let him know that there's still time for him to surrender."
Lieutenant Cutler was struggling to fully connect the science station to the computer core interface. Throwing her hands up in frustration, she seized the offending coil of fiber optic wiring and crawled under the table to where it disappeared into the floor, feeling as if she might need to beat it into submission. She certainly missed the Enterprise, where she hadn't had to fully construct her station by herself, or worry about what critical parts had been looted by the previous users of the simulation field.
Alira heard her muffled question: "What's the Denobulan word for impossible?"
"Opportunity," she replied, flipping open her communicator. "Engineering, report."
Rostov's voice sounded tinny and far away, obscured by the hum and whine of the Solstice's primitive engines. "We have impulse and thrusters. That's the best I can give you."
"That's all we need," Ensign Taxa assured him, severing the connection.
"Enterprise is notifying us they've disconnected their weapons systems and secured them to the laser pulse beam. We should do the same," Dita said.
At the tactical station, Ensign Nguyen, Malcolm's torpedo specialist, looked down at the mangled mess of controls before him. "Fortunately for us, I believe that's all we have left that's functional."
"Not quite," Taxa stood and crossed the bridge, handing him her tricorder. "The strength of Enterprise's laser beam will be directly correlated to the strength of the actual weapons they'd want to deploy, phase cannons, photonic torpedoes, and so on. Here's the energy pattern corresponding to a weapon common to the ships of the Denobulan Infantry. It's called the severance beam, and its particle yield is twice that of anything Mr. Reed could throw at us. Configure it to match the Solstice's modified systems at once."
He looked doubtful, turning the tricorder over and over in his hand. "Is this cheating?"
"No, Ensign. It's called using your resources." Satisfied, she returned to the captain's chair and sat down, knitting her fingers together and bracing her hands behind her head. "There's also information about a weak spot in Malcolm's weapons array I found during my study yesterday morning. We ought to tell him about it afterwards, but for now, it's to our advantage."
Ensign Hutchinson, the beta shift helmsman, was busy studying the joystick assembly that seemingly maneuvered the entire vessel, twisting it this way and that. Privately, he marveled at the fact that these old ships could fly anywhere with such primitive technology. He supposed they had the advantage though; not only were they smaller and more agile, he and his buddies had spent their free time playing old school video games in the quarters after their shifts since Enterprise had launched four years ago. Travis didn't stand a chance.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted someone emerging from the turbolift. With a loud, clear voice, he called out, "Captain on the bridge!"
Alira greeted T'Pol, offering her the first officer's seat. "As predicted, Lieutenant Commander Reed has selected a majority of the senior officers to serve on his bridge crew. Have you any trepidation as to the outcome of the simulation?"
They locked eyes, the Ensign not even attempting to hide her smile. "None."
T'Pol had to admit she admired her confidence. Only time would tell if it would be foolhardy.
"The Enterprise is hailing us," Ensign Singh said.
"On screen."
Archer and Reed stood behind the helm, arms crossed, focused on their image as if they were staring them down. They seemed to be quite enjoying themselves, equally confident, and the rest of the bridge crew seemed to be in on the act. "The simulation begins now and ends when one ship has both their weapons and engines disabled," Archer said.
"I'm aware," Ensign Taxa replied, "Best of luck to you, Mr. Reed."
"You're the one who's going to need it," he shot back, motioning for Hoshi to cut the transmission.
On the Solstice, Alira scarcely waited for their image to disappear from the view screen. "Ensign, set course 2-0-5 mark 6-4. Full impulse."
As the Enterprise charged weapons, they were treated to the sight of the transport shooting away from their bow back towards the moon, growing closer and closer until they were very near to being drawn in by gravity, which would no doubt have forced a crash landing.
"Ready to fire sir," Malcolm's second reported, hands poised over the controls.
"Hold your fire," he commanded, squinting at the view screen. "What the hell are they doing?"
Suddenly the Solstice came about and rocketed across their bow, firing their laser beam as they did so. The ship didn't shake as it typically did when they absorbed an impact, but that didn't mean damage wasn't registered.
"They were aiming for our engines. Shields are holding."
"Polarize hull plating as well. Target their weapons and fire at will."
Ensign Taxa suddenly ordered evasive maneuvers which almost came too late as the laser beam narrowly missed its target. As predicted, the Enterprise began to move, following them out into open space on impulse power.
It was time. Slowly, she stood and approached the view screen, coming to stand behind Ensign Nguyen. "Target their shield generator on the outer hull. Maximum power to the severance beam."
She watched as he input the specifications, then as he looked up at her, she shouted with incredible intensity: "Fire!"
T'Pol had never seen such ferocity in the eyes of a Denobulan, even when Phlox lost his temper.
"Direct hit. Their shields are failing," Lieutenant Cutler reported.
"Continue firing until they're disabled," Alira said, bouncing on her toes.
This was accomplished with three more quick discharges and then the Solstice broke off from its course, disappearing from view.
By the time Malcolm heard the news that his shield generator had been electrically disabled, he was thoroughly shaken. He'd overseen the upgrades himself during Enterprise's retrofit and wasn't sure how she'd done it, but he certainly expected foul play. "Follow them, Mr. Mayweather. Cut them off."
The ship sharply banked upwards before doubling back and moving in the opposite direction. By that time, the transport was fully underneath them, the sensitive underbelly of the weapons array exposed.
"Predictable," Taxa muttered. "Mr. Nguyen, take out their weapons array. Aim right behind that secondary plasma vent."
On the other bridge, they were only alerted to their actions by a series of electronic beeps and the crewman at the science station calling out, "Damage reported to our targeting sensors and phase cannons. Calculated time to repair: forty-five minutes."
Archer and Reed whipped around almost simultaneously.
"What?" Reed asked, in utter disbelief. "Did anyone see them fire?"
The bewildered looks from around the room told him all he needed to know. As they watched, the Solstice appeared in their rear view on the view screen. "Optimal spread on a full volley of photonic torpedoes. Fire along the longitude of the ship, starting with their engines."
"They've locked on weapons, ma'am," Cutler said.
Alira reached back and activated the comm. "All hands, this is the-" She cut a glance to T'Pol, who seemed perfectly unaffected. "This is Ensign Taxa. Brace yourselves."
At the helm, Ensign Hutchinson awaited his orders. When it came, he leaned back, bracing himself between the wall and the foot of the console. He then began to move the joystick in a clockwise and surging motion, sending the Solstice tumbling like a corkscrew through space.
All torpedoes missed but one, which took out the impulse drive. As the Enterprise came about to face them, nearly nose-to-nose, this information was taken in stride.
The bridge crew watched as Alira returned to her seat, crossing her legs and propping her chin up in her hand. She seemed quiet, focused, self-assured. "Mr. Nguyen, maximum power to the laser. Divert power from the engines and all available systems. Take out their engines. Let's finish this."
A couple of hits to their nacelles later, Enterprise was metaphorically dead in the water, and Lieutenant Commander Reed was truly embarrassed. He didn't have much time to even process what had happened, because in the next moment, the Solstice was hailing them.
"Do you concede?" Ensign Taxa asked, her smile growing by the second.
"Do I have a choice?"
"I suppose not. Prepare to be boarded."
Back on the Solstice, as the bridge crew headed for the transporter, T'Pol caught Alira's attention. "Twenty-one minutes. I believe that's a record for completion of one of these simulations. My congratulations to you, Ensign."
"Thank you, ma'am," she replied, allowing her to take the lead.
They met Reed and the Commodore in the wardroom, where the atmosphere was tense. Almost as soon as the doors slid shut behind them, Reed held up his tricorder.
"The energy signature from the modifications you made to the laser beam," he began, his tone treacherous. "What weapons were they emulating, exactly?"
"A Denobulan Infantry regulation severance beam. Publicly available technology if you've been in the service. I bet if you even asked Ambassador Lexora nicely, she'd give it to you," she answered, undaunted by his questioning.
"And that little move that took out our weapons array?"
"I found that by spending ten minutes studying the schematics in our console," she confessed, slowly stepping closer to him. "I'm surprised you missed it until now. In retrospect, it's as plain as the nose on your face."
At that point, he could have reached out and touched her. Moving to close the distance, he accused, "You've cheated, Ensign!"
"I did no such thing, Lieutenant Commander! I committed no act of sabotage, nor did I act in a way unbecoming of an officer."
"You are dangerously close to insubordination-"
She suddenly seized the tricorder in his hand and slammed it down on the table so hard that they believed she must have broken it. Both of them were observing this conversation, which was quickly nearing a physical altercation, with quiet fascination.
"Let this be a lesson to you, sir," she said, punctuating her words slowly, before speeding up without reservation, "Never let anyone know your weakness, even if they seem to be your friend at the moment, because if they reveal themselves to be your enemy, they will take it. They will exploit it, and they will kill you."
The room was silent for an unbearable amount of time before the tension broke. Ensign Taxa's smile slowly returned, and Malcolm realized he'd been had.
The argument in the mess hall, the false hostility...it had all been an act.
"I can't believe you-"
"You should have seen your face!" Alira exclaimed, breaking out into raucous laughter. She bid a fond farewell to the Captain and the Commodore and exited the room, followed shortly by Reed.
The sound of their argument reached them from even further down the hall. In the silence of the wardroom, Archer appeared contemplative.
"Remarkable," T'Pol said, collecting the broken tricorder and turning it over in her hands. "I do believe Mr. Reed has met his match, as they say."
"I think she's the perfect fit for the Maelstrom," Archer commented, turning and walking towards the window. T'Pol joined him, and together they looked out onto the Solstice, sitting unmanned off their bow. Both were deep in thought on what the Ensign had said.
"I believe I've changed my mind."
"About the Kandar project?"
"What else?"
She nodded and left, leaving him alone to his reverie.
The Captain beamed down to the surface in the dead of night accompanied by a single MACO. The halls of the Supreme Council chambers were silent and mercifully empty.
Feezal met her at the head of the table where she'd first presented her proposal. She was accompanied by her own security, an infantryman holding a rifle to his chest.
"I apologize for the company. It appears that my research is now a matter of global security," she said, and together they fell into an easy stroll down the corridor, their companions holding a respectful distance behind them.
"We have decided to honor your request for assistance," T'Pol began immediately, dispensing with any pleasantries. The PADD she had been carrying changed hands. "You will receive any raw materials you need as well as a small staff of five human specialists to man the Kandar satellite. We will be available to resolve any security issues upon request."
She studied the information, brows furrowed with concentration. Finally, she declared, "This is good news. We'll begin work immediately."
"If that'll be all, I wish you luck." The Captain turned and began to walk away, only to be caught by the crook of the elbow. It was a sudden, intense gesture, and she stopped.
"Captain, do you have children?"
"I do not," she answered, and wondered if she ever would.
"I have nine," Feezal declared, releasing her hold on T'Pol's arm. "Having them has been the best decision I've made to date, including the choices that have lead me to seek your assistance."
She turned and they began to walk again, this time with their security noticeably closer. "I would want to ask you a hypothetical question. If you knew eight were safe, but one had found themselves in danger, wouldn't you do everything in your power to protect the one that had strayed?"
Their eyes met. Slowly, the Captain began to nod, knowing full well they weren't talking about children any longer.
"I am aware that some in Starfleet have expressed some misgivings about the Kandar project. Know that every action I take moving forward is in the best interest of our alliance and everyone that falls within it. Please do your best to convince them."
The smile slowly returned to Feezal's face. They walked together for a couple of minutes, not saying anything, before the Captain said: "I agree with you. We must act definitively to avoid being stricken out."
"So you do understand." They'd circled back around to the beam out point, and Feezal stepped in front of her, asking, "Take care of my Alira. She can benefit from your wisdom more than you know."
"Very well, doctor. Farewell."
The MACO took the cue and moved forward, calling up to the ship as he did so. Together, they stepped under a skylight, seemingly the only light source in the darkened chamber.
"Until we meet again. Thank you, Captain."
Her smile was the last thing she saw on Denobula as she began to dematerialize, the room falling away around her.
End of Episode Two
Next time on Enterprise...
Episode Three: Kindred
Onward to Vulcan! A ghost from T'Pol's past threatens to disturb the fragile peace at their negotiations with the High Command. The truth comes to light about an old enemy, and we meet the Maelstrom's CMO.