—Chapter 03—
"No!" said T'Les. "I will not hear it, T'Pol!"
T'Pol had returned to her mother's house after being discharged from the hospital, had been recuperating there for the past five days, and had just informed her that she meant to return to service with StarFleet. This did not please T'Les.
"Whether you hear it, or not, I still have my duty, mother," said T'Pol.
"What duty, T'Pol?" said T'Les. "You are not a member of StarFleet, and yet you almost gave your life for the Enterprise in the Delphic Expanse."
"I have no regrets over that fact, mother."
"Can you think of me for once?" said T'Les. "You are my daughter, T'Pol, and I hope for more in your life than moving from one dangerous assignment to the next. When you were with the V'Shar it was bad enough, but at least I could justify it somewhat by telling myself that you were serving our people. But now?"
"I do not care to discuss the matter any longer, mother," said T'Pol. "I know I have done nothing but disappoint you my entire life, to hear you speak, but I am free to choose my own path."
"That is not fair, T'Pol," said T'Les. "I have always been proud of you, no matter what silliness you dream up in your head. I simply ask that you now choose to follow a less dangerous path in your career. I know that Soval hopes to see you follow in his footsteps as a diplomat, and I am certain that he would gladly aid you in such a career still, if you but ask. That is an honorable path, T'Pol. Why will you not consider it?"
"I have my reasons," said T'Pol, and then refused to discuss the issue any longer.
The day after her argument with T'Les, T'Pol stood before the Earth Embassy on Vulcan right as the doors opened at 09:00 hours, only to castigate herself for her not coming earlier, for a good number of more enterprising people had shown up at the embassy before her. The High Command had given the Humans a spacious ten story building, carved out of a rock outcropping, and the only sign that this cliff housed people were the large glazed windows scattered all over the surface of the rock face. On entering the embassy, T'Pol felt the temperature drop to seventy-two degrees or so, well within the comfort range of Humans, for the twenty foot thick rock walls kept the brutal Vulcan heat at bay even in the worst of summer time heat waves, with only a bit of assistance from the air conditioning unit which filtered out any floating microscopic debris, and removed the humidity generated by the staff and visitors from the air.
Stepping inside, T'Pol was about to take a place at the back of the line, when a passing StarFleet officer and his aide glanced at T'Pol, then quickly did a double take, and approached T'Pol.
"Excuse me. You are T'Pol?"
"Yes," said T'Pol.
The Human said, "I was certain of it, but I had not heard that you'd come out of your coma."
"I did so just recently," said T'Pol.
"It's an honor to meet you, T'Pol. I am Captain Evers, and this is my aide, Lt. Hoskins."
T'Pol nodded her head courteously. She had not met the man before the Madness Season, so she did not know how it had affected him, or his aide, Hoskins, but they both seemed like grim, hard men. Of course the first Madness Season had struck the Sol system only two years ago, with all its ugliness, so their hardness was understandable.
"We've all been concerned about you, and I would have thought the news of your recovery would have traveled quickly among StarFleet."
"Vulcan hospitals generally guard their patient's privacy quite closely, Captain," said T'Pol.
"Of course," said Evers. "I'm very glad to see your condition has improved. Why you are here, T'Pol? I ask because I am at your disposal, if I can be of assistance to you."
"That is considerate of you, Captain," said T'Pol, for the line of people waiting to be helped before her was quite long. "Perhaps you can direct me to the proper person, or office. I came to request a meeting with Admiral Ryan, at his convenience."
Evers looked at Hoskins, and the Lieutenant walked away from them. That was interesting to T'Pol. Either Evers had given a telepathic order, or Hoskins knew his boss well enough to anticipate his orders, and T'Pol was not sure which had just occurred. Evers and T'Pol made small talk for a few minutes longer, then both saw Admiral Ryan walking towards them, Hoskins in tow. Since admirals did not make a habit of receiving their visitors in the lobby, it was clear the man was pleased to see T'Pol.
Evers passed one of his cards to T'Pol, and said, "This matter was trivial, T'Pol, but if I may be of assistance to you in a more meaningful way, please don't hesitate to call on me."
"Thank you, Captain," said T'Pol.
She pocketed the card. It was a standard StarFleet electronic card, embedded with a small CPU and memory chip, and the captain's contact info would be constantly updated as he moved from place to place, assignment to assignment, and thus his contact info would always be current.
Evers saluted Admiral Ryan as the man reached them, and Ryan nodded at the captain.
"Carry on, Captain," said Ryan, and T'Pol expressed her gratitude to the man and his aide once more, before they left.
"It's good to see you like this, T'Pol," said Ryan.
"Thank you, Admiral," said T'Pol. "I was told that you have made it a habit to visit me this day each week, and I hoped to spare you the trouble of doing so today."
"It was no trouble at all," said Ryan. "Come. Let's go to my office, and talk."
Minutes later, the two were seated in the social part of Ryan's office, facing each other across a coffee table, from their respective places on one of two facing couches, and Ryan said, "Would you like some tea, T'Pol? Coffee?"
"No, thank you, Admiral."
"All right. How may be of service to you, T'Pol?" said Ryan, for he knew that Vulcans generally preferred to get to the heart of the matter, save for purely social situations.
"I came to express my gratitude to StarFleet and the Admiralty Commission, for seeing that I was medically cared for, while I was incapacitated," said T'Pol.
"I'll pass that along, T'Pol," said Ryan, "but there's no need for gratitude. Loyalty is everything in the fleet, T'Pol, and your loyalty to the fleet will not be forgotten. Your assistance in the Expanse was invaluable."
"Speaking of value," said T'Pol, and slid a PADD unit towards Ryan. "Although StarFleet was most generous, I would like to return the funds which StarFleet deposited on my behalf in the following escrow account."
"Absolutely not," said Ryan, and his tone was final. "You gave up your career with the High Command on our behalf. That is meant to help you start a new life. What else, T'Pol?"
"Admiral, I assur—," said T'Pol.
"Absolutely not, T'Pol. What next?"
T'Pol sighed, and said, "I hope that you might give me access to the information you have of the events which took place in the Sol system during the Madness Season, as well as information on the current state of things in StarFleet, Admiral."
"Dare I hope that this interest means you intend to join StarFleet, T'Pol?"
"I was considering offering my services as a consultant, as before. Is actually joining StarFleet an option, Admiral?"
"We would be thrilled to have you, T'Pol!"
"In that case I shall consider it seriously, Admiral."
"That makes my day, T'Pol," said Ryan. "Information. Sure, whatever you need. Anything else, T'Pol?"
"That will do for now, Admiral," said T'Pol.
"Done," said Ryan, and ten minutes later T'Pol found herself in a nearby office, with full access to StarFleet's intelligence and readiness reports generated from the start of the Madness Season, up to now, in addition to documentation, both hard copy and video that was generated by a multitude of sources during the crisis.
The video feed was especially shocking to T'Pol. It was just as Soval had said, but it was one thing to hear something, another to see it played out on a video monitor: hundreds of large Xindi Aquatic shuttles delivering hundreds of corpses each, using their tractor beams to haul their grisly payloads, thousands of bulldozers moving among and atop mountains of corpses of every age, race, sex, pushing them rudely into crude pits, seemingly intent on burying every trace that they had ever existed.
Closeup video revealed endless views of Humans and Vulcans with hollow faces and dead eyes trying to blot out the horror by denying it, Xindi Primates and Arboreals too ashamed to raise their eyes to face the Humans working alongside them, and T'Pol could only imagine the stench, and the despair of having to deal with all this, fully aware that you'd have to wake and do it all again, and again, and again, every day, for months, or years. She had to move on.
On and on she went, assimilating more and more of the data which Admiral Ryan had made available to her, first covering the technical advancements brought back from the Delphic Expanse, then surveying the new starships coming off the line with these advances built in, and so on, and so on, only to be interrupted briefly, some three hours later, when the admiral's secretary popped in to drop off a covered food tray, and a large go-cup.
"The Admiral thought you might like to lunch," said the secretary, and since she'd been posted on Vulcan for a while, added, " and no meat products, of course, T'Pol."
"Gratitude," said T'Pol.
She took a sip from the go-cup once Ryan's secretary left the room, and tasted a wonderful mango smoothie. She uncovered the food tray eagerly, for she had not eaten since the night before. The kitchen staff had included a salad, a bowl of mushroom, potato and chickpea soup in a clear vegetable broth, and a sandwich. After eating the soup and the salad, T'Pol turned her attention to the sandwich, and found it delightful: sliced avocado, alfalfa sprouts, sliced greenhouse tomatoes, tabouli mixed with shredded provolone cheese and baked briefly so that the melted cheese might bind the tabouli together into a thick pressed patty which was then drizzled with a creamy cilantro mayo, and all this layered between two thick griddle toasted slices of bread, freshly baked no more than an hour earlier. Intending to eat but a few bites of the tall sandwich which challenged her very ability to bite down on it even after pressing it down, T'Pol nevertheless finished it entirely, and then her cheeks colored briefly after she emitted a burp which must surely have shaken the embassy down to its foundations.
Lastly, the chef had included a small plate with two brownies, one stacked atop the other, a layer of caramel between the two brownies, and a layer of white chocolate drizzled on the topmost brownie, and that chocolate crowned with a generous amount of sweetened, shredded coconut strips. Overcome by guilt at the sheer amount of food she'd just consumed, T'Pol deliberately pushed it aside, only to find her mind and her glance inevitably drawn to the sweet treat, over and over again, distracting her from the business at hand.
Damn you, Trip! thought T'Pol, for she held Captain Tucker ultimately responsible for the development of her addiction to sugar, during her service aboard the Enterprise.
With a defeated sigh, T'Pol made short work of the brownies, and resumed her research on the technical upgrades, only to be startled when Ryan entered the room some seven hours later.
"Come to the cafeteria with me, T'Pol," said Ryan, "and keep me company, get some coffee if you need it, and you can come back here afterwards if you like. This place never closes."
Even though Vulcans were not affected by caffeine, the admiral's suggestion to take a break was logical, so ten minutes later they found themselves seated in a corner table of the embassy's cafeteria.
"You're not hungry?" said Ryan, for T'Pol had just gotten a bowl of plomeek soup and a cup of herbal tea.
"I am atoning for my lunch time gluttony," said T'Pol. "The food was quite tasty though. Thank you, Admiral."
"Glad you enjoyed it, T'Pol," said Ryan. "How's your research going?"
"It is quite illuminating, Admiral. It is heart breaking, what happened to your people," said T'Pol.
Ryan nodded thoughtfully, looked down at his food, and eventually took a bite of his four cheese lasagna.
"I did not find much information in your records of the psionic talents which developed in your people as a result of the Madness Season," said T'Pol.
"StarFleet's plate is kind of full with the Xindi threat at the moment," said Ryan, and T'Pol nodded. "I'm certain that someone, somewhere on Earth is documenting these talents. Eventually, StarFleet will take a thorough survey of these talents among our ranks, but as it stands now, those with appreciable levels of psionic power make use of their talents in the course of their duties aboard their ships."
T'Pol mulled that fact over a bit, then said, "May I ask a personal question, Admiral?"
"Yes, T'Pol."
"What type of psionic talent was activated in you?" said T'Pol.
"None, T'Pol," said Ryan. "I've been StarFleet's representative to Vulcan for five, almost six years now, so I was never infected. Naturally, every member of StarFleet wanted to return to Earth to help defend our solar system, but our orders were definitive. Stay put."
"I see," said T'Pol. "Will the temporary security clearance you have given me allow me to search StarFleet's personnel records?"
"Yes," said Ryan, looking shrewdly at T'Pol. "You want to locate the crew of the first Enterprise?"
"I would like to at least learn what happened to them," said T'Pol.
"I understand," said Ryan. "Last time the newly built Enterprise paid a call to Vulcan was some eight months ago. I went aboard to inspect the ship, and kill a bottle of Kentucky bourbon with Jon. As you may or may not know, Admiral Archer is commanding the ship, Commander Sato is his XO, and second in the chain of command."
T'Pol was surprised, and Ryan noticed the look, subtle though it was. He'd gotten plenty of practice reading the subtle emotional signals which even the Vulcans could not avoid but put out.
"Remember, you've lost out on three years, T'Pol. I'll grant you that Commander Sato's kind of young for the rank," said Ryan, "but the losses in StarFleet were horrendous. Anyway, the Madness Season, and the suffering that came afterwards was a hellish experience, and she was strong enough to survive it all. She's done well enough, judging by her readiness reports."
"And what of Lt. Reed?" said T'Pol, bringing her questions a bit closer to her mark. "I remember that he was quite capable."
"I don't know him personally, but I know he's made captain, T'Pol," said Ryan. "The crew of the Enterprise was disbanded once the Enterprise was scrapped, everyone going wherever they were needed, and given the real life experience everyone aboard the Enterprise brought back with them from the Delphic Expanse, most of them went on to other ships. Hell, you guys were the first Human spaceship out there, the most experienced crew in StarFleet."
T'Pol nodded. Everything Admiral Ryan said made sense.
"I think Jon is trying to rebuild the crew of the first Enterprise on the new ship, at least in part, thus Commander Sato, and Chief Engineer Dillard, who served as a Lieutenant under Commander Tucker during your tour. I know Archer also tried to secure a post for Commander Mayweather on the Enterprise, but Commander Mayweather is one of a select number of former pilots who are doing yeoman's work at StarFleet Academy, selecting and training a new crop of pilots for the fleet, and he turned down the offer. He's doing something worthwhile now, and still gets to fly more than half the time, so he's content at the Academy for now. Probably just as well. He never fully recovered from the madness, and he does well in an orderly environment, which is not something that can be guaranteed aboard an active starship, as you well know."
T'Pol had initially meant to also ask Admiral Ryan of Captain Tucker, but feared being told that the captain had died during one of the Madness Seasons, so she held her tongue. She would find out his fate in just a bit, and she would do so in private.
"Speaking of the fleet," said T'Pol, "I notice that it has grown qreatly in size during the past three years."
"Yes," said Ryan. "Given the bio-weapon attack, we've had many volunteers from among our people to defend Earth and deal with the Xindi, so we're selecting the cream of the crop. As far as starships go, most of the work of building ships is done in our automated factories, and they run 24/7, every day of the year. Our own engineers are working double shifts, and your people have donated thousands of engineers, as have the Tellarites, while the Andorians are helping us hunt down the Xindi Reptilians and Insectoids."
"I had not heard any of that, Admiral," said T'Pol, "and the news is gratifying."
"I imagine that the High Command has reasoned that any species willing and able to kill some fifteen billion living beings is not to be trusted with weapons of mass destruction," said Ryan. "I mean, what happens if they take offense with the Vulcans next, or the Andorians, Tellarites…"
T'Pol nodded thoughtfully, and Ryan continued speaking.
"The Xindi Aquatics have helped greatly expand the orbital shipyards above Mars," said Ryan. "The yards are impressive in size even now, with docking bays for some two hundred ships, and growing all the time."
That made sense, thought T'Pol. Mars was heavily industrialized and rich in the exotic metals utilized in starship construction, so it was a natural fit. The metals were extracted, refined and manufactured into huge sections on Mars, then beamed to the orbital shipyards for final assembly.
"You should see the Xindi Aquatics work," said Ryan, wonder in his voice. "A single Aquatic controls a large water filled shuttle with six robotic arms on the exterior, with built in welding units, drills, saws, all kinds of machinery needed to work on a ship. One Aquatic shuttle does the work of a dozen Human or Vulcan engineers, and there are hundreds of them working on the shipyards."
"I would like to see that some day," said T'Pol. "I have always considered the Aquatic ships the most impressive of the Xindi starships."
"T'Pol," said Ryan. "I have to leave now. I'm have to attend a diplomatic event at the Tellarite Embassy, which is why I ate here first. You don't want to see some of the things they serve there. You're welcome to join me if you'd like. You'll have a chance to socialize with a number of diplomats and an assortment of socialites, if that sweetens the pot at all."
"It does not," said T'Pol, and if she were a Human she'd be laughing openly in Admiral Ryan's face for trying to rope her into such a dull evening. "I would like to go back and finish the rest of my research, if you do not object."
"No at all. I'll leave you then, T'Pol. Have fun with your research," said Ryan, and knowing her, she'd have a blast.
T'Pol nodded a farewell to Ryan, gulped down the last of her tea, and returned to her research.
The time had come for T'Pol to find out if Captain Tucker still lived, and she was certain that she would see his name on a list of deceased, or perhaps, almost as bad, read that he had gone insane, and never recovered, and that would devastate her, for Captain Tucker was her t'hy'la, her… friend. She typed in, TUCKER, CHARLES ANTHONY, in the search bar of StarFleet's personnel database, and pressed ENTER, with dread in her heart. To her relief, the captain's personnel record was quickly displayed, and his status was listed as ACTIVE. T'Pol read through the captain's record, learning a number of things she had not known of Captain Tucker, but when she searched for the location of his current assignment, that information was listed as RESTRICTED. She was relieved at least, for if he was on active duty, than Captain Tucker was fit.
After a moment's thought, she typed in REED, MALCOLM TREVOR, and pressed ENTER. Mister Reed had been close friends with then Commander Tucker, and it was possible they had kept in touch, or even better, were serving together, which meant that if she found one, she'd find the other. To her disappointment, information on his current assignment was also listed RESTRICTED.
Some problems would take time to solve, T'Pol decided, and went back to her study of the current events taking place in StarFleet, and the way that StarFleet had dispersed its ships in order to best defend the Sol system, while still freeing up a considerable number of ships to search for the Xindi, and it was an hour after dawn before she decided she'd adequately caught up on what she'd missed while in her coma. She left the office she'd been working in, to find Admiral Ryan speaking with his secretary, and both looked up at T'Pol with surprise.
"Don't tell me you've been at it all night!" said Ryan. "You've been working for some twenty-two hours since you first came here, yesterday morning."
"There was a lot of information to digest, Admiral," said T'Pol.
"You're a research monster, T'Pol," said Ryan.
"Yes," said T'Pol. " I thank you for allowing me access to the information I requested, Admiral."
"Of course," said Ryan. "What else may I do for you, T'Pol?"
"Nothing at the moment, sir. Thank you."
"All right," said Ryan, and handed T'Pol his card. "If you need anything, call."
"Yes, sir. Thanks again," said T'Pol.
"My shuttle will take you wherever you like," said Ryan. "Take the elevator to the roof. You'll recognize the StarFleet insignia painted on a blue shuttle, and the pilot, Anton, will be there by the time you make the roof."
"That is not necessary, Admiral," said T'Pol.
"Go, T'Pol," said Ryan, "or Anton will take off without you. The man's quite impatient."
"Yes, Admiral," said T'Pol. "Thank you."