Chapter Two
Suliban Helix 024
Sometime Later
Commander Silik scowled as he purposefully made his way through the corridors of the Helix towards the communications chamber in the facilities heart. The rest of the Cabal would not be pleased by what he had to report to them, he knew that as he himself wasn't pleased by what his subordinates had reported to him. Though Klaang's ship had been stopped from returning to Klingon space and exposing their involvement in the internal strife plaguing the empire, it had been forced down on the Terran homeworld. The attack cruiser that had forced the K'toch-class scout down had deployed soldiers to the planet to finish off the Klingon while using the ambient magnetic flux of the planets northern pole to hide from the Terran sensors.
Unfortunately that was as good as things had gone.
Arriving outside the communications room Silik took a few moments to mentally prepare himself for what was going to be an uncomfortable conversation, before inputting his code into the door controls. For a second nothing happened then with a series of whirrs and clicks the doors heavy locks disengaged and it slid obediently open. Here goes nothing, he thought to himself as he walked into the chamber. It was a relatively barren and simple looking room, its walls made out of silver-white metal and engraved with complex geometric patterns that were aesthetically pleasing to the many parts of the electromagnetic spectrum that could be seen by the compound retina that was such a unique feature of the Suliban eye. Eight platform-like holographic transmission pedestals stood in room. Several of them arranged into an arc shape facing the eighth and it was up to that solo platform that Silik walked.
Climbing onto the platform Silik waited until with a tingling sensation a razor thin line of blue light scanned him from the souls of his feet to the top of his head, confirming that he was who he said he was and that he was authorised to speak to the members of the Cabal. With his identity firmly verified the other seven platforms began to glow and from each came a shimmering almost transparent pillar of energy – inside of which stood a Suliban. Two the members wore the same maroon-coloured jumpsuits as Silik himself, indicating there membership in the Suliban military. The rest wore dusty red or brown robes with the woman occupying the centre platform wearing red and gold robes of ornate weave along with the Tiara of Influence and holding the Sceptre of Power that identified her as the Supreme Leader of the Suliban race.
"Where is, Klaang?" the Supreme Leader demanded immediately.
Silik bowed in respect, doing his best to swallow his nerves as he did so, before answering her. "Eminence I regret to inform you that there has been a complication in the pursuit of Klaang," he reported.
"What kind of complication Commander Silik," Supreme Leader Varni asked, "in our last communication you assured us that the pursuit of Klaang's ship was nearing its end."
"The pursuit has indeed ended your eminence, the attack cruiser pursuing Klaang's vessel was able to disable it and force the vessel to crash onto the surface of the Terran homeworld. However moments before impact Klaang was able to regain some control and make a semi-controlled crash landing. Two soldiers were immediately dispatched to eliminate him and the knowledge that he possesses. However, they failed in their mission. Both soldiers were killed Klaang is now in the hands of the Terrans."
"WHAT!" Varni thundered her fury making Silik wince. "That is not acceptable, Commander Silik. Klaang must be eliminated before he can carry his knowledge back to the Klingon Empire. You have to get him back."
"Unfortunately that will be very difficult, eminence," Silik replied apologetically. "The incident has led to a significant increase in military alertness in the Terran system. The size and frequency of military patrols has increased significantly as have emissions from the systems tracking grid. None of our ships would stand a chance of entering the system without being detected and challenged something that we can ill afford to happen."
"We cannot let, Klaang remain free," another member of the Cabal pointed out. "He knows too much, if he does return to the Klingon Empire with the knowledge he has probably been given by the traitors, all of our hard work, all our sacrifices, will be in vain."
"Unfortunately Commander Silik does have a point that we cannot risk exposing ourselves to the Terran Alliance," another member pointed out, this one wearing one of the maroon jumpsuits. After a second Silik recognised him as Korlin another senior commander like himself, he paid close attention as Korlin continued. "While it is true the Terrans are relative newcomers to the galactic scene, their technology has advanced to be comparable to our own in some areas with incredible speed.
"Their military capabilities are formidable, we should not forget that they defeated the Nausicaan Republic, driving the Nausicaan's all the way back to Nausica Prime and imprisoning them there, in just over one of our years. It would be a mistake of the highest order to underestimate them and their abilities," Korlin said. "We must also be aware that they have had extensive diplomatic contact with the Vulcan Confederation for a number of decades, while by all accounts they are a fully independent power and not a client state we cannot rule out the possibility of the Vulcans siding with them should they come into conflict with us."
Silence descended upon the room for a moment as everyone considered what Korlin had just said. The Vulcans were one of the oldest of the spacefaring races, their technology more advanced than most other known species. Conflict with them would be very much a nightmare scenario as while the Vulcans preferred to use economic sanctions and endless rounds of diplomacy to solve a problem they would fight if presented with no other alternative. And when Vulcans fought it was with a cold, logical precision that was both truly terrifying to behold and utterly relentless. Though the Suliban had become very powerful over the last few decades, even they wouldn't last long in battle with the Vulcans.
"So what do we do about this," Varni asked, breaking the brooding silence that had descended upon everyone. "Klaang must be stopped everything we've planned and worked for depends upon it."
"I have a plan that will help us there, eminence," Silik replied.
"Explain."
"We have two stealth cruisers holding position just outside the Terran home system, hanging just beyond there sensor range, listening in upon their communications," Silik answered. "We have managed to decipher some of their military communications codes, from them we have learned that a Terran Starfleet vessel called Enterprise carrying Klaang will be departing their homeworld for Qo'nos within the next day or two."
"You plan on intercepting them," Korlin asked.
"Yes."
"Risky. Stealth cruisers are built strictly for stealth and reconnaissance, while armed they are not meant to engage in direct ship-to-ship combat," Korlin pointed out.
"Indeed," Silik answered, "but the scientists here assure me that Enterprise will not detect the cruisers in time to fire upon them. We should be able to retrieve, Klaang with minimal effort and minimal risks."
"Its still a huge risk, but one that we have to take," Korlin replied.
"Indeed it does not mean I have to like the plan, if it fails then the Terrans could become aware of us and if they do then so will the Vulcans. However, as Commander Korlin points out we have no choice. Now what of the traitors," the Supreme Leader asked. "Have Sarin in her group been tracked down yet?"
"Not yet your eminence," Silik replied. "We believe that they are hiding somewhere in the Rigellian system, however we have yet to pinpoint the exact location. The amount of traffic in the system from so many different species is hampering our efforts."
"Unacceptable. Sarin must be captured or killed as soon as possible," Varni, answered. "She and her followers have already endangered our carefully laid plans for finding a new homeworld, they must be made an example of or the descent will surely spread to others among our people."
"She will be, your eminence I have some of my best trackers on her trail it is only a matter of time before they find her," Silik assured her. "What should we do with her when they succeed?"
"Capture her if possible, we would like to make a public example of her," Varni replied. "However if capture is not possible then silence her once and for all."
"It shall be done."
"In the meantime keep us apprised of the situation with Klaang and the Terran vessel," Varni ordered. "And Silik do not fail us again."
Silik bowed slightly again while inwardly shivering at the implied threat from the Supreme Leader, knowing that if they failed to recover the Klingon intelligence operative from the hands of the Terrans then things would not go well for him.
"I won't fail you eminence," he replied.
"See that you don't," the Supreme Leader answered before her hologram evaporated, immediately followed by the other six holograms of the members of the inner chamber of the Cabal.
Alone once more in the chamber, Silik reflected upon the meeting – it had gone as well as he could have expected. The rest of the Cabal and especially Supreme Leader Varni were running out of patience both with the Sarin issue and the inseparably linked issue of Klaang.
It was understandable.
The Cabal and the Suliban race in general had spent an enormous amount of time and resources on the quest to start a civil war in the Klingon Empire. A conflict that would be of benefit to the long term Suliban goal of securing a new homeworld, replacing Suliban Prime that had been taken from them by such a cruel twist of fate. Unfortunately Sarin and her supporters were standing in the way of that goal, there interference could set the Suliban cause back decades if the worst happened and Klaang got whatever he had been given by Sarin back to Qo'nos. He's not going to succeed though, he thought, we'll get him off Enterprise, find out what exactly Sarin gave him then we'll silence him forever. Then it will be Sarin's turn to die for what she has done.
Smiling at the thought that soon this whole security threat would be dealt with permanently Silik headed towards Helix Operations. He had a few things to check on before he could turn in for the night, he hoped nothing major had come up as the next few days were going to be crucial and he couldn't afford to be distracted. After all it was the next few days that would determine if the Suliban would succeed or fail in there task. Silik hoped it would be the former.
Because he had no idea what they would do if they failed.
TAS Enterprise
Earth Orbit
A Short Time Later
"I hear it's been approved for bio-transport."
Major Malcolm Reed jumped slightly as he was jolted out of his silent contemplation of the transporter platform by a voice from off to his right. Turning in the direction the voice had come from he found himself face to face with a tall, dark-skinned young man in the familiar blue two-piece uniform of Starfleet with the rank pip of an ensign.
With a practiced eye, he found himself accessing the younger man who looked to be in his early twenties and was surprisingly well muscled for someone of his apparent age – clearly the ensign was someone who took Starfleet's physical fitness protocols extremely seriously. The other man also held an easy stance that Malcolm had come to associate over the years with someone who spent a great deal of time in space. Spacers Stance as many people in the media called it.
"I'm sorry," he asked. "What were you saying, ensign?"
"I said I hear it's been approved for bio-transport," the ensign replied nodding at the transporter device. Malcolm nodded he had heard that as well though he wasn't sure how accurate it was. Transporter beam technology was still very new to Terran science, the technology having only been perfected three years earlier by a scientist named Emory Erickson. There were still so many unknowns with it, so many things that they had yet to learn.
"I hope by that you mean fruit and vegetables," he replied.
The ensign shook his head. "No I mean Starfleet officers and MACO's," he replied with a smile before offering a hand, "Ensign Travis Mayweather, senior helmsman."
"Major Malcolm Reed," Malcolm answered taking the offered hand and shaking it. "Armoury and Security, pleasure to meet you, ensign. Forgive me for saying so but you seem…"
"… A bit young to be senior helmsman," Travis finished for him grinning. "Well looking from a groundsider perspective I suppose I am but I've been flying ships since I was twelve."
"Boomer," Malcolm queried using the slang term for someone who'd been born and grown up on one of the many thousands of freighters that plied the space lanes – a sizeable percentage of which were independent traders or cargo haulers, which were nearly always family run affairs with siblings, cousins and so on combining into crews.
"Yep and proud of it," Travis replied. "I never set foot on a planet for more than a few hours until two years ago, when I came to join Starfleet. So what do you think about the transporter being approved for personnel transport?"
"While I cannot deny the potential tactical advantages of being transported I think I'm not ready to have my molecules converted into a datastream," Malcolm answered. "I think I'll stick to shuttles thank you very much, ensign."
Travis laughed. "I don't blame you," he said grinning humorously. "You wouldn't catch me going through that thing for all the gold pressed latinum in the galaxy."
Malcolm chuckled liking the kid's sense of humour, before turning serious. "Anything I can help you with, ensign?" he asked.
"No, no, nothing," Travis answered. "I just saw you standing there, staring at that thing. Moreover, I'm still trying to figure out where everything is and who everyone is on this ship so thought I'd say hello. Though might I ask what you're doing here?"
"Waiting by the transporter?" Malcolm asked half guessing what was coming. If I had a credit or a strip of gold pressed latinum for every single time a green fleeter asks me what I think he's going to ask me what I think he's going to ask me, I would be a millionaire by now, he thought with a mental smile.
"Well that and on the ship in general, I wouldn't have thought there would be MACO's on a Starfleet ship," Travis admitted looking a little sheepish.
"Why wouldn't we be here, ensign," Malcolm replied before deciding he might as well give the Boomer kid a minor history lesson. "Marines have served on navy ships for centuries, ever since the Age of Sail; MACO's – like me – are the modern space version of marines. Thus, we are here. Starfleet is a navy, granted a space navy but a navy nevertheless. Our primary mission is as it's always been to help protect the vessel and carry out boarding and landing assaults where required.
"In addition, Enterprise is a very important vessel to the future of Starfleet," Malcolm continued. "Thus there are slightly more of us here than normal considering where this particular mission is going to take us General Casey and Admiral Forrest thought it sensible to assign more MACO's to my team than I'd normally have."
"I never thought of it like that," Travis admitted a little sheepishly. "But thinking about it now your right it makes sense to have MACO's on board. As for where we are going I have to admit to being a little worried."
"Why's that ensign?" Malcolm asked wondering if Travis knew anything about either the Klingons or the region of space, Enterprise would have to pass through to get to the Klingon Empire. He wouldn't be surprised if he did as Boomer crews tended to know a lot about what went on among the stars as they often carried passengers – alien or human – between different stars as well as cargo. And when they were aliens those passengers weren't always from species the Terran Alliance had official contact with yet.
"I've heard a few things about that region from time to time," Travis admitted. "A few times we had aliens on the Horizon who were from that area. It's rumoured that the borderland as its called is an area rife with pirates, Orion slavers, and other unsavoury elements."
"All the more reason for the presence of me and my team," Malcolm said, "and to get all of our weapons systems working and not just the torpedo banks. That's why I'm waiting here now some components are due to be beamed aboard from the shipyard fabrication facilities."
"Weapons components?"
"Of a sort," Malcolm answered but before he could explain further the sound of the transporter, activating caught his attention.
Turning to watch he saw the upper and lower discs of the transporter platform light up. For a moment nothing more happened beyond a humming whine of power then small silvery-white particles of energy began to appear. First as small individual dots but rapidly expanding outward and forming into the shape of a series of carefully stacked boxes, the density of the particles increased and the boxes themselves appeared, transparent at first but rapidly solidifying. The silvery swirling particles of the transport beam faded away revealing four solid boxes on the platform. Amazing this thing, he thought with a hint of awe, he'd seen transporter beams in action before but never on a ship, Enterprise being the first Terran ship to have a transporter platform on board, and the technology never failed to amaze him even though he swore he would never let anyone put him through one of these things.
Without hesitation, he moved forward, climbed up on the platform, and opened the closest box, hoping that it would contain the items he'd been waiting for. He was disappointed but not particularly surprised to find that instead of the expected EPS relays the boxes contained magnetic field coils of the right mark to safely contain and regulate the flow of an antimatter stream. On the off chance that they might be mixed up with the magnetic coils, he checked the other three boxes, with the same result.
"Damn," he said aloud without realising it as he resealed the boxes.
"Problem, sir," Travis asked.
"Nothing, ensign I was hoping that this transport would be class-four EPS relays," Malcolm explained. "I've been expecting them since yesterday we'll need them to get our phase cannons working. Help me with these."
"Yes sir," Travis replied before moving in to help Malcolm pick up the four boxes – they weren't particularly heavy or large, but the shapes were awkward to say the least. After a moment of working it out, they carried two boxes each. "Where are we taking these?" Travis asked as they left the small area set aside for the transporter.
"Engineering, I need to have a word with Commander Tucker see when those EPS relays are arriving, no doubt he'll tell me that they'll be hear tomorrow," Malcolm said with a sigh before imitating the engineers thick southern twang, "'keep your shirt on, your equipment will be here in the morning.'"
Travis laughed softly, he'd met Charles Tucker a few times since he'd come on board and knew that was just the kind of thing the augment would say. Though hearing someone with such a strong British accent doing a passable imitation of a southern drawl was interesting to say the least. "That's not bad," he said as they made there way down the bustling corridors of the Enterprise both ignoring all the work going on around them as engineers and yard dogs worked tirelessly to get the ship operational in time for the moved up launch.
Main engineering was a large space on the upper two decks of the engineering hull, separated from the other parts of the ship by thicker than average bulkheads to protect the rest of the vessel in the event of a radiation or plasma leak. Running along most of the hull it was divided up into three main compartments, the first being the engineering control room from which all the systems on the entire vessel could be monitored, the second and largest compartment housing the warp reactor and the third and final compartment being an access point from which someone could climb up into the nacelles to check or do maintenance on the dozens of individual warp field coils lining them.
Arriving in the first compartment Malcolm Reed and Travis Mayweather were treated to a sight of controlled chaos. A number of panels all around the large room were open with engineers working at rapid pace on the exposed systems; other engineers were working at the various control panels as they brought systems online, steadily transforming Enterprise from a lifeless mass of metal and circuitry into a living, breathing ship.
Standing near the entrance Malcolm carefully surveyed the room for any sign of his query. But strangely enough he couldn't spot Trip anywhere, he could see plenty of other engineers bustling round working but their was no sign of Trip at all. "Where's Commander Tucker," he asked the closest engineer.
"In his quarters or he's supposed to be," the engineer answered not looking up from his work installing some components into one of the many consoles. "He hasn't slept for near enough two days, Captain Archer spotted it when he came down here earlier for a progress report and made him go to his quarters for a rest."
"Oh. I was hoping to speak to him, the EPS relays I need for the phase cannons still haven't arrived," Malcolm replied. At that, the engineer stopped and looked up with a frown.
"Still," he said sounding and looking confused. "I'm sure they arrived a few hours ago, one second, major." Putting his tools down the engineer – who Malcolm belatedly recognised as Trips second in command Lieutenant David Kelby – picked up pad instead and after wirelessly connecting to the ships main computer input a query; a second later, he got an answer.
"I was right they're here," Kelby said then frowned as he saw where they'd been stored, "though what the hell are they doing in storage bay three? That is supposed to be spare parts for the shuttles only not EPS system components. Someone must have fowled up when they were brought onboard. I'll have a word with the quartermaster get him to check if all the other supplies and components are being stowed where there supposed to be stowed. It wouldn't do us any good to break down in the middle of nowhere and be unable to fix the engines because we can't find the right parts."
"I can do that, lieutenant. You have enough on your plate here, especially as we're supposed to launch tomorrow," Malcolm offered.
"Would you," Kelby asked hopefully. "I'd be grateful if you would, major. Trip will have my head if I don't get this console wired up and fully operational by the time he gets back."
"No problem. Where do you want these boxes?"
"What are they?"
"Magnetic field coils," Travis answered.
"Oh finally we've been waiting all day for those," Kelby said before pointing to a pile of boxes in one corner of the room. "Put them over there. The guys will start installing them into the backup containment field generators as soon as there done with the plasma coolant valves."
Malcolm nodded and led Travis over to where Kelby indicated while the other man went back to work on his own task.
"Looks like the weapons will be online by the time we leave after all," Travis said with a grin.
"Indeed but first I'll go have a word with Lieutenant Rollins," Malcolm replied. "He's the quartermaster he's supposed to make sure everything gets where it's supposed to go." Travis winced at the faint hint of annoyance he heard in the MACO's voice and silently made a mental note to be as far away from that conversation as possible as something told him it was going to be… explosive to say the least.
Captain's Ready Room
A Short Time Later
"They cannot be serious."
Captain Jonathan Archer's disbelieving words echoed slightly off the pale grey duranium alloy bulkheads of the small cube that was his personal office just off Enterprise's bridge. The man himself sat in the chair at the desk staring at the image of Admiral Maxwell Forrest on his computer screen.
"I'm afraid they are, Jonathan," Forrest answered from where he was sitting in his own much larger office down at Starfleet Headquarters. "The Vulcan High Command has requested that one of their officers be assigned to Enterprise for the duration of the mission into Klingon space. Ambassador Soval communicated the request to the president this morning. After debating it all afternoon the command council has agreed to it."
"Did they give any indication as to why they want to put an officer on my ship," Jon asked inwardly wondering what the Vulcans were up to. Like many senior frontline officers he was well aware that the Vulcans had been increasingly trying to interfere in Terran internal affairs over the last few years, especially since they'd made contact with the Andorian Empire, thus he couldn't help but wonder what political game the High Command was playing with them this time.
"Unfortunately no," Forrest replied looking a little irritated at the Vulcans himself. "Officially the High Command is pitching it as the next logical step in strengthening the alliance between our two races. That's what they used to convince the president, and what the president used to convince the cabinet."
"I don't buy it we've talked with them about crew exchanges in the past and nothing has ever come of it, the Vulcans have always resisted even considering it. It makes no sense for the High Command to suddenly go back on that."
"Command doesn't buy it either," Forrest admitted. "Unfortunately the president and the political cabinet apparently do, Anders is looking at it as something to improve his re-election chances. And it stands a good chance of succeeding considering how the public still holds the Vulcans in high esteem for all the reconstruction help they provided in the last century. Anders office is going to leak the news to the media in a few hours."
"Politics," Jonathan said with a note of disgust in his voice. "Anders is a fool if he doesn't see that the Vulcan High Command is playing a political game with him."
"Whatever else he may be, Calvin Anders is no fool, remember Jonathan he is an ex-MACO colonel who fought in the Nausicaan War just as we did," Forrest reminded him. "But he is also a politician facing re-election he's not going to look a political gift horse like the Vulcan request in the mouth."
Jonathan sighed. "I suppose not," he admitted. "So what do the Vulcans really want? And why's command agreed to this?"
"We have no idea what there real goal is, Starfleet Intelligence is aware that there is something of a power struggle in the Vulcan High Command at the moment, one faction wanting to improve relations with us – especially as tensions are on the rise between Vulcan and Andoria, we could well be looking at a war brewing between them - while the other faction is against any deepening relations with us."
"So this mission is being used as a political football in an internal Vulcan power struggle?"
"I'm afraid so, sorry Jonathan."
"Brilliant," Jonathan replied feeling something of a headache coming on. Dealing with the kind of politics that only occurred in the Terran Alliance once every five years was bad enough, but now his ship was being used as a political football by competing factions in the Vulcan High Command. "What about command why have they agreed?"
"Anders didn't really didn't give us much of a choice in the matter," Forrest admitted looking annoyed at the president. "He as much told the command council to agree voluntarily or he would directly order them to obey."
"I see," Jonathan, answered. "I hate politics."
"Join the club, but unfortunately it comes with the territory."
"I suppose. So who's the Vulcan that I'm going to be lumbered with? And when does he or she arrive?"
"You've met the Vulcan in question before," Forrest answered and almost smiled at the look of confusion Jonathan shot him in return. "You met two days ago at Starfleet Medical," he continued. "Sub-Commander T'Pol will be shuttling up to the shipyards tomorrow morning at oh-eight-hundred hours. She should be onboard Enterprise by oh-nine-fifteen hours."
"Great. Alright I'll have the appropriate quarters prepared. Though I'm not sure what I'm going to do with her during the voyage as its going to take a couple of weeks to reach the Klingon border; especially as I don't want to push the warp engines until they've been properly broken in."
"As I understand it you're still short on two key officer positions," Forrest answered. "Sub-Commander T'Pol's file shows that she has the Vulcan equivalent of doctorates in a number of scientific disciplines, as well as considerable command experience."
"Hmmm, I suppose I could make her chief science officer. Though I'm not sure, I'm happy putting her in the direct chain of command by making her first officer. I'll think about it."
"That's all I can ask, Jonathan. I'm sending up T'Pol's personnel file on a sub-channel." As the admiral spoke, an icon appeared on the bottom right hand corner of the plasma display screen indicating that a file was being received on a sub-channel that was present precisely for that kind of thing. After a second, it disappeared as the file transfer ended and the signal automatically closed down.
"Got it," Jon informed his superior officer and one time shipmate. Maxwell Forrest had been second officer on the starship Farragut when he'd been assigned to her after graduating from the academy, just as the war with Nausica began. Despite there differences in rank the war had forged a strong bond of friendship between them, a friendship they'd continued to this day.
Forrest nodded. "I'll contact you again in the morning, just before the commissioning ceremony," he said. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, sir." Forrest gave a slight smile at the formality in Jon's voice before breaking the channel from his end. For a moment, the arrowhead seal of Starfleet appeared on the screen along with the words 'connection terminated' before blinking off and being replaced by the ships main computer directory screen.
Jonathan sighed again and accessed the file Forrest had just sent to him on Sub-Commander T'Pol. For a few seconds the screen remained static as the security subsystems automatically checked the file for any malicious coding that could potentially harm the ships computer then the screen changed. And he found himself looking at the personnel photo of a beautiful woman, though her face was typical of a Vulcan in its almost elfin features, olive-coloured skin and total lack of emotion.
She would be even more beautiful if she showed feelings he thought studying T'Pol's features that may as well be carved from granite instead of belonging to a living, sentient being. One thing he'd never been able to understand about Vulcans was why they worked so hard to suppress their emotions in favour of a rigid logic that would do any computer proud. He personally could never see anyone willing to do that, it would take all the joy out of living. In away the lack of emotion was the most alien thing about the Vulcans, far more so than their olive coloured skin, green copper-based blood, touch telepathic abilities and of course the pointed ears.
After a moments contemplation of the enigma that was the Vulcans and there suppression of emotion he shrugged and was about to start reading the file when a rumble from his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten yet this evening. He felt heat rushing to his cheeks as he instinctively blushed in embarrassment even though there was no one around to hear. I suppose I better go and grab some food, he thought before taking a computer pad out of one of his desk drawers. After wirelessly transferring T'Pol's file into the small PDA-like device, he stood up and left the ready room for the officer's mess.
It didn't take Jonathan Archer long to reach the officers mess, it was only two decks down from the command level and easily accessible – especially now that the turbolifts were online. That had been one of Trip's first priorities when they got back to Enterprise from Starfleet Medical as the turbolifts made getting personnel and supplies around the ship a whole lot easier, which had only speeded up the engineering work. After all Enterprise was a big ship, she was not the largest starship yet built by Earth – that distinction went to the aging but still formidable Gorgon-class dreadnoughts - but she was still a very large vessel.
Arriving in the mess hall, he was not surprised to find the room practically deserted. Most of the officers were not onboard yet enjoying a last night of shore leave down on the planet, at least those who weren't helping with last minute preparations for tomorrow's launch. However he was surprised – and more than a little annoyed – to find one Charles Anthony Tucker the Third in the room. Trip was sitting by one of the windows looking out of the thick transparent aluminium surface at the space around the ship, though there was not much to see right now with the ship still in dock, instead of stars all that could be seen was the silver and grey of the slipway framework.
Quietly he took some sandwiches out of one of the coolers – he didn't feel like bothering the chef for a hot meal outside of the designated meal times, though he knew the chef would happily warm something up for him if he asked – and made his way over to his friend.
"I thought I told you to go and get some sleep, Trip," he said sternly and had to hold back a grin when Trip emitted a startled yip and visibly jumped. Clearly, Trip had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't heard his approach, giving him the rare opportunity to surprise his chief engineer as Trip's ears were a lot sharper than his own. Normally Trip would hear him coming, even if he was trying to be quiet.
"Couldn't sleep," Trip asked turning his chair around and giving Jonathan his best glare for trying to give him a heart attack. Jonathan for his part ignored it while noticing that Trip was holding a mug that looked to be full of milk though it was giving off the sweet scent of cinnamon. He also belatedly noticed that Trip wasn't in uniform, but was instead in some civvies, specifically a pale red polo shirt and grey trousers. He'd obviously been back to his quarters as ordered.
"Couldn't or wouldn't," Jonathan asked putting some joking tone into his voice as he sat down opposite.
"Couldn't," Trip assured him. "My mind wouldn't shut up, so rather than bother Phlox while he's still settling in and getting sickbay set up I came to get some of this." In emphasis, he held up the glass of milk, which now looked to be warm, going on the small whiffs of steam that was coming off it.
"Your mom's cure for insomnia," Jon asked, it had been awhile since he'd last seen Amelia Tucker's cure for insomnia – the last time being one time back in the academy when Trip had dragged him across country to Florida to meet his family during a long weekend off.
"Got it in one," Trip replied. "What are you still doing up, cap?"
"One word Trip, paperwork."
Trip winced. "Ouch," he said knowing how tedious staying up to do paperwork could get. He got quite a bit of it as chief engineer; he could only imagine how much more Jon got as Enterprise's master. Even though Enterprise technically wasn't a commissioned vessel, yet – not until the christening ceremony tomorrow before the launch – he imagined Jon got a lot of it.
"Is that what that is," he asked nodding at the pad his friend was holding.
"Of a sort," Jon replied offering the pad to the other man. "Take a look."
Curious despite himself Trip took the small PDA-like device off him and started to look at the contents, while Jon began the delicate task of unwrapping the cellophane from around his plate of sandwiches. Trips curiosity only grew when he saw that the file his friend was reading was the personnel file of the Vulcan officer they'd encountered at Starfleet Medical.
"Okay why are you reading a Vulcan personnel file," he asked giving his old friend a puzzled look.
"Because she's been assigned to Enterprise as of tomorrow morning," Jon answered before emitting a small cry of triumph as he successfully unwrapped his sandwiches. At the look, Trip gave him he sighed and gave the engineer a quick synopsis of the conversation that he had just had with Admiral Forrest.
"Man that stinks," Trip, said shaking his head once he'd finished "I hate politics."
"Join the club," Jon replied before taking a bite of one of his sandwiches. After swallowing, he continued. "Unfortunately there is nothing either of us can do about her coming aboard. Not with President Anders threatening to make her assignment a direct order."
"I guess your right there," Trip, replied before taking a sip of his drink. "So what are you going to do with her when she gets here?"
"Well she has got all the qualifications and more to be a damned good science officer for however long she's on this ship," Jon admitted. "So I'm going to give her the position, though she's got a lot of command experience as well so I might have to make her first officer as well. Though I don't really want to, until I know her better I don't really want to put her in the direct line of command."
"Problem is we need a first officer," Trip reminded him. "Going into deep space without one would be like going out there without a chief engineer. I could probably pull double duty as first officer for awhile if you want me to."
"I wouldn't do that to you, Trip. It wouldn't be fair of me," Jon replied, "I know you have the rank and seniority to serve as a first officer but I've been a first officer. I can tell you from experience that there is a hell of a lot of work involved; it wouldn't be fair to dump all that on you on top of all the work you have as chief engineer."
"You're probably right, as you've reminded me more than once in the past while I am genetically enhanced I'm not Superman," Trip admitted, then grinned. "You could ask, Malcolm."
Jon chuckled. "Are you serious? I don't think there has ever been a case of a MACO being first officer on a Starfleet ship," he said. "Besides Malcolm has enough on his plate, between running armoury, security and keeping forty-nine other MACO's in line."
"True. Looks like you have your answer then, cap."
"Much as I don't like it," Jon replied with a sigh. "Alright I'll make T'Pol first officer as well as chief science officer. I just hope it's not a mistake."
"It'll be fine, I'm sure, Malcolm and yourself will be keeping close watch on what, T'Pol does, I know I will," Trip replied. "So when does Klaang come aboard?"
"A medical shuttle is coming up tomorrow morning, a few hours before departure. They'll be bringing Klaang with them. There going to keep him in a medically induced coma for a bit, until Phlox is happy that he's recovering properly from his injuries. Hopefully Hoshi will have the universal translator programmed with Klingon by the time Phlox is ready to bring Klaang around."
"Hoshi's that green ensign we've got as a communications officer right?"
"Yes. Though according to her academy professors and her educational records she has an impressive ability with linguistics she already fluently speaks a dozen languages Human and alien, including Vulcan, Denobulan and Andorian."
Trips eyebrows rose showing how impressed he was. "I've not met her yet," he admitted. "Still if she can do that then she must have a good head on her shoulders."
"Attractive one as well she's down on the planet at the moment, having a last evening with her parents. She'll come up in the morning with the last of the crew."
"Don't blame her," Trip admitted before finishing his drink, then yawning as his mothers cure for insomnia worked its usual magic.
"Go to your quarters, Trip," Jon said grinning at his friend. "Directly, no quick side trip to check up on Kelby in engineering."
"You know me to well, Jon," Trip replied with a sigh before yawning again.
"Yes I do. Now off you go to your quarters."
"Okay, okay I'm going," Trip answered holding his hands up in a calming gesture while giving a tired smile, two days of being awake constantly – only breaking for food and to use the restroom – catching up on him. "Goodnight, Jon."
"Goodnight, Trip."
Trip gave his friend, now commanding officer, a last tired smile before leaving the officers mess. Jon watched him leave before turning his attention back to his almost finished sandwiches and the pad that Trip had left on the table.
Retrieving the pad, he started reading T'Pol's resume again while munching on the last of the sandwiches. As before he noted how well qualified she was for both senior officer positions that he still had to fill. After a few moments consideration he sighed as he realised he didn't really have much choice but to make T'Pol first officer as well as his chief science officer, it was either that or overburden Trip with additional work and he wouldn't do that. Augment or not Trip would burn out if he had to handle first officer duties on top of the many duties a chief engineer had, and he couldn't well have Malcolm Reed do it.
Opening up another application on the pad he wirelessly accessed the computer core and pulled up the crew registry. After putting in his command code he put T'Pol down for both science and first officer duties, he hesitated for a moment debating with himself if this was the right thing to do before reminding himself that it was his only option. Resolutely he saved the changes before accessing the engineering computer and noting that Kelby had gotten almost all the main systems online in the last few hours, and that the warp core was being run through final diagnostics ready for tomorrow's power up. Trips got some good people working for him, he thought as he put in a new order to reconfigure the environmental systems and gravity plating in the first officer's quarters to levels suitable for long-term habitation by a Vulcan.
Satisfied he disengaged the wireless link to Enterprise's computer network, before locking the pad and slipping it into one of his uniform pockets. After that, he stood up and gathered up both his plate and the glass that Trip's drink had been in, before carrying them to the service window and leaving them there. The skeleton crew on duty in the galley at night would soon pick them up and shove them in the dishwasher for cleaning. He took one last look around the mess hall before leaving, heading for his own quarters. Tomorrow was going to be a big day, the biggest in his career so far, so he needed to be well rested as it wouldn't do for Enterprise's captain to be dead on his feet when the time came to slip there moorings and headed out into the galaxy.
No, it wouldn't do at all.