ACT ONE

Captain's Starlog, March 13th, 2156. We are on course for the Mu Virginis system to investigate the mysterious silence from the New Elysium colony there. It has been over two weeks since Starfleet last had contact with the colony administrator.


As entered the launch bay, Captain Jonathan Archer briefly paused, reflecting on the state of his life. It was, he grudgingly realized, probably for the best that his father was no longer around. Jon could only imagine the horrified expression on Henry Archer's face if he saw his son doing something with the resident Vulcan that the younger Archer had been doing since she first came aboard. It was embarrassing to admit that, no matter what Jon's intentions were, he was drawn toward this very thing.

He was losing an argument with her.

Upon their arrival in-system, he had quickly declared his intention to lead the landing party and, almost as quickly, she had began pointing out why he should not. Her points were, as usual, distressingly logical and each of his counter-arguments had sounded weak even to his ears; she destroyed them with that casual efficiency he had come to expect from her. Were she not so essential for the mission, Archer would have seriously considered leaving her in command instead of Reed. So he let her rant.

"Are you done?" Jon asked as the door to the launch bay slid open. They both knew he would exercise his authority as captain, would overrule her objections with a direct order. It was the only way he had ever won an argument with her but he took great pride in knowing that no one ever did. Except Trip. And that irked Archer more than he cared to admit.

She paused ever so briefly and rolled her tongue against the inside of her cheek as she considered. Jon blinked in surprise; it was a trademark Tucker expression, one Trip used when he was uncomfortable or was thinking about how to best tell someone they were being really stupid, and T'Pol had used it as if she had been doing so all her life. He doubted she had even been aware of doing so and, not for the first time, he wondered what exactly was going on between the two. On the heels of this, however, came the realization that he really didn't want to know. It might hurt too much.

That the two were a couple was pretty much an open secret on Enterprise; the question that remained on everyone's mind was how serious it was As the captain, he knew that he should discourage it, given Starfleet's official position on fraternization, but, like pretty much every other senior officer, he instead looked the other way. As long as they didn't let their relationship affect the job, he'd say nothing. And it didn't. Despite the almost common knowledge that the first officer and the chief engineer were ... well, dating, there were no visible changes. No one found them making out in the mess hall or having sex on the warp reactor or some of the other crazy things couples did. Not that Jon expected that from them. So he continued looking the other way.

If he had to be entirely honest, Archer would also admit to a small bit of jealousy, an emotion that embarrassed the living hell out of him. In the year before the Expanse mission, he had found himself nursing a serious attraction for T'Pol, one that he had nearly convinced himself was reciprocated. It'd become pretty clear to him that the attraction was mostly one-sided though - the horrifically awkward episode in Sickbay always seemed to spring to mind - so he stepped back, disappointed to be sure but firmly convinced that a Human-Vulcan relationship couldn't really happen. Once he had stepped back, he gradually recognized the tension between T'Pol and Trip for what it was, a mutual attraction that had been there from nearly the beginning. He still wasn't entirely sure exactly when he realized Trip and T'Pol had actually moved past the 'just friends' stage; his best guess put it at about a week or two before the incident with the second Enterprise. And T'Pol's reaction to Lorian's genetic ancestry had been all the proof Jon needed that his assumptions were right. She'd been surprised, yes, but there was clearly more discomfort than surprise; if he hadn't been so obsessed with the Xindi, he might have found it amusing. And then, after the Expanse, Trip and T'Pol danced around one another for months.

Up until baby Elizabeth. Their awkwardness seemed to vanish overnight as they grieved together. It was a Vulcan thing, Jon had later learned from - of all people! - Ambassador Soval; T'Pol had psychically bonded with their child and, since Trip was the genetic father, had linked him with the baby as well. The pain of losing the infant was nearly overwhelming for an unprepared Vulcan and Archer found himself glad Trip was there to help. Visibly, Tucker was the most torn up about Elizabeth's death but anyone who really knew her could look and see how close T'Pol was to emotional collapse. They grieved together and then moved forward. Together.

"Yes sir," T'Pol replied to his initial question with that maddeningly Vulcan calm. Jon noticed her eyes flicker away from him for a heartbeat and her entire stance seemed to calm, to soften. It remained unnerving no matter how many times he saw it; Vulcans weren't supposed to be ... soft.

"She convince you to stay yet, Cap'n?" Trip grinned as he stepped up beside Archer, his arms clasped together at the small of his back. The engineer had adopted the stance recently and yet seemed completely unaware of it. Just like T'Pol and her tongue rolling. Sometimes - quite a lot of times, actually - these two gave him a headache.

"She's explained her position," Jon replied slowly with an answering smile. "Since you seem to be the only one who can talk any sense into her, care to help me out?"

"Hey, don't look at me," Trip shot back, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I agree with her. You really should stay on the ship." Archer gave him a half-hearted glare although he wasn't really surprised. Trip and T'Pol argued constantly with one another but when it came right down to it, they nearly alwayssided with each other. Like any good married couple. And what part of his subconscious that thought had came from, Jon didn't want to know.

"Traitor," Archer groused as Trip sidled over to stand by T'Pol; he was fractionally too close to her to be 100 professional but Jon said nothing, pretended to not even notice that the Vulcan accepted Tucker's violation of her personal space without a thought or complaint. "I am leading this mission, Commanders," he finally declared, emphasizing their ranks. They said nothing, merely exchanged a brief look that was indecipherable to him yet clearly spoke volumes to each other. He hated when they did that, hated how they could finish each other's sentences because it reminded him so damned much of his parents, and was about to tell them so when the comm chirped.

"Bridge to Captain Archer," Lieutenant Commander Reed's clipped voice echoed around the launch bay and, with another sour look at his two senior officers, Jon walked to the nearest comm box. As he hit the transmit button, he couldn't help but notice how Trip inched even closer to T'Pol. Or maybe it was the other way around.

"Archer here," he responded curtly. "What is it, Malcolm?" His so-called "friends" were talking softly to each other now, whispering actually, and Jon wondered if they were coming up with a new battle plan to keep him on the ship.

"Sir, we're receiving a transmission from Starfleet. Admiral Gardner wants to talk to you immediately." Jon nearly sighed. The universe was well and truly against him.

"I'll be right up. Archer out." He hesitated for a moment before moving to rejoin his two senior officers.

"We had plomeek last night," Trip was griping as he approached. "It's my turn to pick the food." T'Pol glanced up at Archer's approach before responding.

"You did not find the plomeek agreeable?" she asked. Jon's almost grinned; they were arguing about food. At least they weren't trying to figure out how to keep him on the ship. Unless it was code...

"It needed pepper," Tucker replied. "Lots and lots of pepper. What's up, Cap'n?"

"Message from Starfleet." Jon barely paused, knowing one of them - probably T'Pol - would interrupt to gloat. The Vulcan had picked up far too many of Trip's bad habits. "All right, T'Pol, you win. I'll be on the bridge; report back as soon as you can." The Vulcan inclined her head slightly in a nod as Trip shot Jon a grin that said I knew you'd lose the argument. "And Commander T'Pol?" She looked back, waiting. "Look after your Chief Engineer." If she caught the inference, she gave him no clue aside from the raised eyebrow.

"Three MACOs should be sufficient to keep Mister Tucker out of trouble," was her reply as she turned back to the shuttle.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Trip asked as he followed her toward the shuttle. He shot Jon a flat look that revealed he had definitely got the joke. Archer grinned right back at him and his expression had a meaning too: take that, buddy! Sometimes it was good to be the captain.

"You have the worst away mission record on Enterprise, Commander." She paused as she lifted her gear. "You have been stabbed, shot, abducted, cloned, blown up, seduced ..." She spoke the last word with distaste and, despite her Vulcan control, Archer knew she wasn't entirely happy about that. He couldn't help himself. The opportunity was just too ... good and he hadn't been able to rib Trip in far too long.

"Don't forget pregnant!" Jon shouted from the doorway. He ducked through it before Trip could retaliate, already starting to chuckle. It wasn't often that he got the last word.

The day was turning out to be okay after all.