"The industrial military complex wants expansion. It craves expansion, just as it craves enemies," pronounced Billy.
Trip sipped his scotch and tried to block out his brother's voice. Their after dinner conversation had become about Starfleet even though Elaine asked Anna and Billy not to go there. Charles looked over at his son Trip and offered him support in a wan smile. Trip took yet another sip of his scotch.
"How many aliens have you killed for the sake of commerce?" asked Anna.
Trip had seen how Orlons left only dead taking cargo and those they could sell into slavery. The Nausicaans left only dead not even bothering with slaves. He took pride in stopping Orion pirates and Nausicaan raiders.
Standing up, he smiled at his father and mother then headed out of the house to the porch. As he walked away he heard Lizzy defend him, which brought a smile to his face. Walking down the porch steps, Trip headed to the beach and the water's edge. He rather listen to the lulling sound of the tide than his siblings.
Trip stopped with his feet just getting wet, as he stood in wet sand thinking about getting away his family. Right now he'd rather be back at the Presidio getting ready to go to a jazz club that someone recommended to him. Maybe he could find an excuse to leave tomorrow and tomorrow night go to the Club Fusion.
"Hey, bro," Lizzy drew his attention as she approached him.
He turned and looked at his sister.
"You didn't have to defend me in there, Lizzy," he said. "Their opinions are never going to change."
"Maybe, but you are my favorite sibling," she smiled. "Anyways, ma told them to shut up. And she used the words shut up, too. I left right in the middle of an ass kicking by Elaine Tucker."
Trip laughed then he turned back and looked out at the slate gray water. Lizzy came up beside him.
"You going to cut your visit short now, aren't you?" she asked.
"Thinking about it," he sighed. "Anna is going be here for two days, but Billy said he staying for the week. I might have to kill him in four days."
"And according to Billy you've been trained to kill," she smiled. "How you going to handle it?"
"I was thinking of leaving before everyone gets up. I already arranged for transportation. I'll leave ma and dad a nice letter and tell them I'll drop by again before I head to Iowa," Trip told her.
"And I was hoping to spend some time with you," Lizzy said sadly.
"I've got a temporary billet at the Presidio, otherwise I'd invite you to San Francisco," Trip said.
"I have a friend who lives in San Francisco. Maybe I can visit her for a few days before I head back to school," she said. "Would you show me Starfleet Academy and the city?"
"I'd love to, sis," smiled Trip.
"And I'll smooth things over with ma and dad. You know that letter won't go over big," said Lizzy.
"Yeah, I know," agreed Trip.
She put here hand on his right arm and started to pull him.
"Let's go back. Since you leaving, you have to put up with their shit tonight," smiled Lizzy.
"Jeez, thanks," chuckled Trip.
STSTST
AG Robinson woke up with a splitting headache. Even he had to admit that he had several too many celebratory drinks last night at the 602 Club along with several other captains. One of his old academy mates bought a bottle of MaCallan's Scotch that AG drank most of it without help. Definitely, mistakes were made. Throwing his legs over the side of his bed, AG sat up with a groan of pain. The ache in his head went from a thumping in his temples to someone using his skull as a drum kit.
"I definitely need about a gallon of water and pot of coffee," he moaned then he looked at the chronometer on the table beside his bed. It was 09:22 in the morning. At 11:00 he had a meeting with Admiral Jefferies to discuss some of the more experimental items that will be part of the Enterprise. Suddenly, AG wished that Trip was going to be at that meeting. He'd not only understand Admiral Jefferies but he'd understand what Jefferies was talking about. AG was going to have to fake it for an hour or two depending on Jefferies excitement level.
Standing up, he shuffled his way to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator door, grabbed two bottles of water, and started to pour the water down his throat. Next, he'd make a pot of coffee to drink. Once he had a cup he'd then start thinking about food. By the time he got to Starfleet Headquarters he'd be fine.
This weekend he had some survival training scheduled. That was just what he needed. Even AG admitted that when he had too much time on his hands, he got himself in trouble. Better busy right now then getting into trouble. He had worked too hard to get a ship like the Enterprise to jeopardize his position. Sometimes, AG wished he was more like Jon than himself. Archer appeared to be able to find the planning part of a project as exciting as the implementation. AG always thought of himself as a man of action, a leader. He was starting to realize he was going to need to be more than just a man of action in order to succeed captaining the NX.
STSTST
Trip snuck away from his family getting up and out of there by 0500 hours. Leaving a note for his parents, he promised them another visit before returning to to duty. Now that he was back at the Presidio, he dressed in jeans, a black collarless shirt, and his leather pilot's jacket that he earned by qualifying as a Level One pilot. He didn't get to use his pilot's skills often, but he worked hard to get them, so he was proud of them. Once he was dressed and ready, he touched the comm on the back of his left hand and called for a hovercab.
The hovercab left Trip off in front of Club Fusion. After he paid his fare, Trip entered the club. He recognized the song being played immediately. It was an old standard Sweet Lorraine. His father used to listen to this song as sung by a 20th Century artist by the name of Nat King Cole. The trio playing were good and the piano player had a surprisingly good voice, a smoky baritone. The hostess looked at him.
"Table for one," he said.
"Drinks and dinner?" she asked.
"Yes," replied Trip.
She escorted him to a small table. Trip sat down. The hostess offered him a flirtatious smile then went back to work. Slipping his jacket off, he draped it over the unused chair at his table. A waitress showed up and handed him a PADD with the menu.
"May I start you with a drink?" she asked.
"Sure. I'll have a Glenmorangie Scotch on the rocks," he told her.
"Okay. I'll be back with that," she said then headed off to get his drink.
The trio finished the song and started a new one. The new song took Trip a little longer to identify. Bess, You is My Woman. Trip got his love of Elvis from his brother Daniel and his love of jazz from his father. Charles Tucker, Jr. had collection of vinyl 20th Century jazz albums that was considered antique quality. Taking a quick look at the PADD, Trip decided order a double cheeseburger and curly fries. The waitress returned with his scotch. Trip placed his order and she left.
Sipping his scotch, Trip enjoyed the music as he scanned the club. He wasn't really in the mood for company tonight, but he didn't want to be rude if he saw someone he knew. The next song was Be Careful It's my Heart. His father always played the Frank Sinatra version of this song. As he enjoyed this song, Trip noticed a woman sitting alone. Focusing in on her, he recognized her. It was the beautiful Vulcan woman, the one who was interested in what was on the viewscreen. She had her hair combed over her ears and was dressed like a Human woman. But there was no mistaken that it was her because of her beauty. Her being here fascinated Trip.
"Here's your dinner," said the waitress with a smile.
Trip smiled as she placed the plate in front of him. He thanked her then his attention went back to the Vulcan woman. She appeared to be enjoying the music, which was surprising. What little he knew about Vulcans it seemed surprising to find one enjoying jazz music in a club full of Humans. He put ketchup on his burger and fries, but his attention stayed mainly on the Vulcan woman. Besides being beautiful, she had his curiosity up.
Trip took a bite of his burger, while keeping his attention on the Vulcan. This was turning into a more interesting night than he thought it would be.
STSTST
Her mother always told T'Pol that her emotions were closer to the surface than the average Vulcan. For T'Les this was meant as a criticism, but T'Pol's father Sovat always told her to except herself for who she was. When he disappeared on a mission for the Security Directorate, she went into the desert in order to cry and not be seen. She tried to hide the volatility of her emotions most of her life, yet it still allowed herself moments were she indulged herself. Coming to this club in order to listen to this fascinating music was an indulgence. She enjoyed this Human jazz music.
A salad sat in front of her. She sampled it and ate some of it. It was passable, if not a little indulgent with too many flavors. She sipped the carbonated water she ordered. T'Pol would have preferred tea, but this club didn't have suitable tea. The musicians began a new song. As per her training she surreptitiously scanned the audience as she listened to the music. Her attention stopped on Commander Charles Tucker III.
She was shocked to see him there. When she slipped out of the hotel and made her way to the club, she was not followed. She made sure that she wasn't followed. This must be a coincidence, though part of her refused to think it was. The commander was eating food and from time to time checking her out. Did he recognize her? Or was he tasked with following her?
Because of the incident in the work room, she looked up Commander Tucker's record when she was collecting intelligence. His background was mainly as a engineer, and it appeared that he was a brilliant one at that. For the last two years he was the XO and Chief Engineer on a Border Cutter protecting shipping lanes from pirates and raiders. During the time he was the XO and Chief Engineer of The Rebel, the starship had a record of achievement that no other border cutter could contend with. According to most reports, now Captain Archer received most of the credit, but under Commander Tucker The Rebel was the fastest border cutter in the fleet; its polarized hull plating was the most efficient; and its crew was noted as being one of the best with a high morale. The XO usually had a great to do with a crew's efficiency and morale.
T'Pol ate some more of her salad, not so much out of hunger, as they served extremely large portion, but to give herself an appearance of normalcy. She would stay for several more songs then leave the club and return to the hotel. Once in her room, she'd spend time meditating on Commander Charles Tucker III.
STSTST
Trip debated with himself whether to leave the Vulcan alone or to go introduce himself. He finished his burger and fries, as well as his scotch. His mother always said he was too curious for his own good, so he took his credit chit out, paid for his meal, drink, and tip on the PADD, got up, grabbed his jacket, and headed over to the Vulcan's table. Once he got to the table, the Vulcan looked up at him with her right eyebrow raised.
"I didn't catch your name the other day, but I'm Commander Charles Tucker III. My friend's call me Trip," he introduced himself.
T'Pol had made sure to use a nasal suppressant before she left, but the overwhelming odors of the club had weakened her suppressant. She caught a sniff of Trip's scent. Usually, a Human male's scent made her grimace from its strength, but she found that she could tolerate his scent. It was fascinating to her.
"I am T'Pol," she decided to be diplomatic. "Please, sit down."
Trip sat down.
"I'm on leave and I decided to listen to some live jazz, so I came here tonight. I was surprised to see you here. I thought Vulcan's hated Human music," he started a conversation.
She noted that he gave up information easily, but it was unimportant information.
"I find that progressions of jazz music intriguing," she said.
"Oh," he smiled.
Humans smiled too easily, though this one did have an aesthetically pleasing smile.
"I'd thought you have Starfleet or DiploCorp security all around you, considering you're an important visitor," said Trip.
"I came alone," stated T'Pol.
"Ah, snuck out. Don't blame. Sometimes you just want to do what you want to do," said Trip. "I almost feel obligated to make sure you get back to your hotel safely but I have the feeling you can take care of yourself."
"I am trained in several Vulcan marital arts," T'Pol told him.
"I was right," Trip smiled.
For a few moments they both listened to the song being played and song. It was the standard Nature Boy. Once the song ended Trip looked thoughtfully at T'Pol. She usually disliked being stared at but Commander Tucker had a way of staring without making her uncomfortable. Finally, he grinned.
"Well, it's been a pleasure to meet you, T'Pol. I should get going, though. I hope to enjoy your stay on Earth," he said.
"I do not think so," T'Pol replied.
"Huh? You don't like Earth?" asked Trip.
"I find it satisfactory and interesting, but I gain no emotional pleasure from it. Vulcans do not indulge in emotions," she told him.
"Really," smiled Trip then he stood up. "That's a shame because I find emotions make like worth living. Well, I hope you continue to find Earth interesting."
He walked away. T'Pol felt as if Commander Tucker had just teased her, which brought several of her emotions almost to the surface. She closed her eyes and focused herself, suppressing her emotions. Definitely, she was going to need to meditate for several hours tonight.
STSTST
Dressed in civilian clothes, Malcolm Reid walked into a bar that was seedy and rough. Located in a neighborhood of Oakland that still need gentrifying, Shots was a barroom for those who didn't believe in the law. Reed looked around the bar and saw who he needed to talk to sitting in a booth by himself, just like he said he would be. He strode over to the booth and sat down.
"Harris," he growled.
"Agent Reed, or should I call you Lieutenant Reed since you are returning to active Starfleet duty," smiled Harris.
"You called me here," said Reid.
"Yes, I did," Harris replied. He took a data crystal out of his pocket and gave it to Reid. "On that crystal is information that you'll need. I've got you assigned to the NX Enterprise as their tactical officer. I recommend that you reacquaint yourself with the duties and skills of tactical officer. I expect you to do your duty, but I also expect you to continue as an agent for Section 31. The Enterprise is too important a starship for us not to make sure it has every chance to succeed."
"You have intel saying that someone wants it to fail?" asked Malcolm.
"The Vulcans are showing a great interest in it. One of their Security Directorate agents, who is acting as a diplomatic adjunct on Earth at the moment, hacked into Star fleet's system and retrieved a bit of information on the Enterprise. We made sure she didn't get everything," smiled Harris.
"When is The Enterprise scheduled for leaving dock?" asked Malcolm.
"Six months. Still being built in Iowa then it'll spend some time being fine tuned at Jupiter Station," answered Harris.
"What do you think the Vulcans intentions are?" asked Malcolm.
"Vulcans are not a conqueror people, but they do like to control the evolution of other species with their influence. I believe that we have gotten big enough and strong enough that the Vulcans want to start influencing us," stated Harris. "I want to keep that down to a minimum."
"Anyone else interested in the Enterprise?" asked Malcolm.
"Yes. The Andorians are wondering if we are a potential ally or enemy, so they are interested in the Enterprise. The Klingons don't like us heading deeper into space, so they'd love an excuse to destroy the Enterprise. Krios is wondering if we are worthy trading partner or a potential enemy. There is a great deal of interest in the Enterprise," explained Harris. "On the crystal you have information on the captain, XO, and more. Read up on the crew and on the intel I've provided you. As I said, Malcolm, we want the Enterprise to succeed."
"I understand," sighed Malcolm.
"Do you understand, Malcolm?" asked Harris.
"I'm supposed to be a superior tactical officer and an agent for Section 31," answered Harris.
"No crossed loyalties here, Malcolm. Section 31 wants only what is best for The Enterprise," stated Harris.
"I'll be an invaluable member of the crew," smirked Malcolm.
"I am going to miss you, Malcolm. You are a hell of good agent," said Harris.
"Who is sick of working for Section 31," added Malcolm.
"But Section 31 isn't sick of you working for us," smiled Harris.
Malcolm stood up. He pocketed the data crystal and left the bar. Harris continued to sit in the booth. He would keep a close eye on Malcolm because, even though, he was an excellent agent, he too often allowed his sense of honor to get in the way of being a great agent.