Enterprise – The Maiden Voyage
by Soledad
For disclaimer, rating, etc. see the Introduction
Notes are at the end of the chapter.
Beta read by the wonderful and generous LoyaulteMeLie, whom I owe my gratitude. All remaining mistakes are exclusively mine.
Chapter 09 – Power Play
T'Pol wasn't really surprised that Archer would drag her down with him to Engineering. Few things that humans did could still surprise her. She did find it unnecessary, yes, given that Archer had received a status report less than half an hour ago, and it was unlikely that Commander Tucker would have been able to view the most recent damage caused by the alien ship.
But she had learned by now that the captain of Enterprise had a deeply emotional connection to his ship; even if that made no sense for a Vulcan. It was just a ship, after all. A means to travel in space. Nothing more, nothing less.
Thus they went down to Engineering… or at least that had been Archer's intention. They didn't have to go quite that far, though, as they ran into Tucker and one of his engineers, Crewman Dillard, in the corridor.
"That support frame's bent," Tucker was saying, just as Archer and T'Pol turned into the subsection. "We'll need to reinforce it."
Crewman Dillard nodded and started up with the welding torch immediately.
"How bad is it?" the captain asked quietly.
Tucker gave him a haunted look. "If that last shot had been about a half a metre higher, we'd be lookin' at stars."
Archer looked at the crewman with the welder. "Hold it a minute." It was difficult to carry on a discussion through that background noise.
"There were thirteen people workin' in this section, Cap'n, including yours truly," Tucker continued. "If that bulkhead had blown…" He shook his head in distress and walked away in search of further damage.
Archer looked at T'Pol. "Did your people run into as many hostile aliens when they first went into deep space?"
"It was a different time," she replied diplomatically.
That earned her a surprised look. "How so?"
"There were fewer warp-capable species," she clarified. "And those who were there were much older and wiser than us. In a manner, we Vulcans are the bridge between the old species and the new ones. We came too late to be counted among the old ones; yet, in a sense, we are too old for the young ones to be comfortable with us."
"And vice versa," the captain said.
She inclined her head. "That is also true."
Archer sighed. "At least you were equipped to handle the threats you were coming up against; unlike this ship. I think it's time we do something about that."
"What are you suggesting?" T'Pol asked after a moment of consideration.
The human shrugged. "Enterprise was fitted with phase cannon ports, but since we left Spacedock a few weeks ahead of schedule the cannons were never installed," he explained as they stepped into the turbolift. "I think it's time they were. Theoretically, we should head back to Earth."
"That," T'Pol said dryly, "is not really a possibility right now. Even if we had not gone more than half the distance to Berengaria VIII, doing so would be dangerous. Gerasen Gerasal would not be any safer on Earth than they are on board this ship."
"I know that," Archer said a little impatiently. "Which is why I'm about to discuss the matter with the two people who can do something about the problem… or so I hope." He stepped to the wall communications unit of the turbolift and switched to shipwide announcement. "This is the captain speaking. Commander Tucker, Lieutenant Reed, meet me in the Armoury immediately."
"Are you really sure we can do this on our own, given the circumstances?" Jack asked some ten minutes later. "I mean, the armoury team at Jupiter Station is specifically trained for this kind of work…"
"My engineers are just as good as they are," Charlie Tucker stated confidently. "And most of the stuff we need is already on the ship anyway."
"Just give us two weeks, Captain," Reed added with the same confidence and not a little eagerness, clearly wanting to show what he could do.
Jack shook his head. "We don't have two weeks, Lieutenant. We're expected on Berengaria VIII within the week; a deadline we may not able to keep, given the current state of our engines. And we have other systems that need to be overhauled after that last attack."
"My people can help out," Reed offered. "A few of them have a degree in engineering, and the rest are thoroughly trained in the maintenance of weapons systems on a starship. Crewman Fuller in particular."
"I know that, Lieutenant," the captain sighed. "The question is, however: do we have the slightest chance to install the phase cannons and do all the necessary repairs while on our way to Berengaria VIII with the best speed the engines are capable of? Which would be, at the moment…?" He trailed off with a questioning look in Tucker's direction.
"Still warp two point eight," Charlie answered promptly. "We've been fortunate where the engines are concerned. But the other repairs willslow down the work here."
"I see." Jack turned to Reed. "Lieutenant, we all know that your training goes well beyond that of a simple armoury officer, even if the details area classified. So I'm asking you, with that fact in the back of my head: can you and your team do this?"
"Yes, sir," Reed answered without hesitation. "We may not even need two weeks for it… if Engineering is willing to give us a hand."
"Of course we are," Charlie said, "but there is only so much repair work that can be safely postponed. It won't be easy, for either of us."
"There's another problem," Reed added. "Enterprise was designed to carry three of those phase-modulated energy cannons. Currently we have one; and it's only a prototype."
Tucker stared at him in shocked surprise. "Does this mean that not only do we have to get the one we have up and runnin', we also need to build two more from scratch? You're kiddin' me, ain't you?"
"No, sir, I'm not," Reed answered bluntly. "And it's not as if we had a choice here. The cannons are rated for a maximum power output of five hundred gigajoules. With that kind of firepower we'll be more than a match for the alien ship that attacked us."
Charlie scratched his head. "I don't know, Jack. I just don't know. Installin' the cannons is one thing, but buildin' them from scratch… I was trained to build engines, not weapons, and the same is true for my crew."
"We've go the parts," Reed reminded him. "And my crew has the know-how. Lieutenant Foster was part of the construction team. We can do this."
"I hope you're right," Jack sighed, "because turning back is not an option. Not now."
"We'll do our best, Cap'n," Tucker promised, looking a lot less sure about the outcome than he'd probably have liked to.
The next couple of days were spent in frantic work. Everyone with the slightest technical knowledge was roped in to help with the simple repairs, so that the engineers and the technicians with more thorough training could work on the cannons.
Everyone pulled double shifts, including medical personnel who were watching out for signs of over-extension and patched up those injured as a result of small accidents. Fortunately, no-one was seriously hurt, with the sole exception of Ensign Kimball, who got sprayed with hot plasma when Crewman Cooper carelessly threw her a tool and missed, hitting a plasma pipe.
Needless to say, Reed was furious with Cooper and had her reassigned to the galley until the repairs were done.
"Chef can keep an eye on her," he muttered angrily. "Hopefully she won't poison anyone due to her lack of attention."
Despite this little episode, both the repairs and the weaponry update were going on promisingly, and Jack Archer had just begun to relax a little when T'Pol looked up from her hooded viewer.
"Captain, I'm detecting a ship dead astern," she reported. "Eight thousand metres."
"Let me guess," Jack said wearily. "Our shadow?"
"Closing to seven thousand," T'Pol said, instead of answering the rhetorical question; not that there was any need. "Six thousand."
"Polarise the hull plating," Jack ordered Ensign Burke who was standing in for Reed at Tactical.
But it was already too late. The alien ship opened fire again and Enterprise shook violently under the force of their attack.
Through the communications system Reed's sharp voice could be heard. "Reed to Bridge." No-one had the chance to answer him, all being busy picking themselves up from the floor. "Armoury, report. Get to your stations. Move!"
The lights went out on the Bridge and came reluctantly back at half-force. Displays were flashing on and off all around.
"Warp drive is offline," T'Pol reported.
As if on cue, everything went black.
"Main power is down," the Vulcan added, somewhat unnecessarily.
"Torpedoes!" Archer ordered.
"Tactical systems are down," T'Pol said.
"Why don't you save time and tell me what isn't down?" Archer snapped, at her.
His obvious irritation didn't impress the Vulcan one bit.
"The outer doors in Launch Bay Two are opening," she said, completely unfazed.
"Seal them," Jack said.
She looked up at him calmly. "I cannot."
Jack muttered a vile oath and stormed out of the Bridge, determined to get down to Launch Bay Two, no matter what.
When he reached his destination, flanked by two security guards he had summoned on his way down, the view offered to him was enough to freeze his blood. Two engineering crewmen were lying on the floor at a junction, clearly unconscious. A pair of grey- skinned, vaguely humanoid figures with very long legs were crouching over the crewmen, doing… something strange with beams coming from their hands.
"Hey!" Jack shouted, protective instincts gaining the upper hand; those were his men, dammit, and no-one was allowed to hurt them. Especially not stick-limbed aliens with heads like mushrooms. "Get away from those men!"
He fired his phase pistol, but it had no effect on the big eyed alien with a vertical mouth slit and no nose. The aliens rose unhurriedly and left, heading towards Launch Bay Two.
"Follow them!" Archer snapped at the security guards; then he activated the nearest comm unit. "Archer to Sickbay."
"Phlox here, Captain," the annoyingly cheerful voice of the Denobulan answered immediately.
"Report to E deck, section seven," Jack ordered. "This is an emergency."
"On my way," Phlox replied and signed off.
Barely was the connection broken when another call came in.
"Security to Captain Archer."
"Go ahead."
"The aliens are gone, sir," the security officer sent after them reported. "They've launched their shuttle."
At the same time another hit rocked the ship. Hard. Jack had to grab the bulkhead for support.
"Bridge, report!" he shouted.
"The alien vessel has gone to warp," T'Pol reported. "But that last shot damaged our port nacelle. We're venting drive plasma."
"Wonderful," Jack commented sarcastically. "Now, let's pay Sickbay a short visit; we'll have to be back on the Bridge as soon as we can."
Sickbay was an eerie place, with only the emergency lights on, which gave everything a dull, reddish glow, and the creatures of Dr Phlox chirping agitatedly in the background.
"How are they doing, Doctor?" Jack asked, looking down at the seemingly lifeless bodies of Crewmen Jenkins and Naiman.
The Denobulan sighed. "I've stabilised them, but they were subjected to some rather invasive scans."
"Will they be all right, though?"
Frankly, Jack did have his justified doubts about that, as both men were just staring at the ceiling with unblinking, glassy eyes, clearly unaware of their surroundings.
Phlox shrugged. "There could be some residual neurological damage, but I'm doing everything I can."
"I'm sure you are. Thank you, Doctor." Jack turned to T'Pol. "Have you ever heard of anything like this?"
"No," she admitted.
Jack pressed on. "Are there any Vulcan records of a species that uses similar tactics? And I don't care how classified they might be."
T'Pol remained unimpressed. "None that I know of, Captain."
Which didn't mean there weren't any such records at all, of course, and Jack knew that.
"Dig in deeper," he said. "Find out what you can. I want to know who those guys are."
T'Pol acknowledged the order with a dignified inclination of her head, even though she had no idea how she would find out anything about a species that wasn't even recorded in her database. At least, the preliminary search hadn't turned up anything.
Perhaps Gerasen Gerasal would be of assistance. The Viseeth had been searching deep space for millennia. If the aliens belonged to an old race, one that hadn't had much interaction with other people in recent centuries, the Viseeth might still know them.
Her thoughts were interrupted by an urgent call from Engineering.
"Tucker to Archer."
"Go ahead." The grim tone of the captain revealed that he was expecting bad news.
He was not disappointed.
"We've got a plasma leak," the chief engineer reported unhappily.
"How bad is it?" Archer asked after a tense moment.
"Under control, but our port nacelle took a lot of damage," came the reply.
Archer closed his eyes. This was about the worst news he could have been told, given their current situation.
"How long before we can go to warp?" he asked.
"A couple of days," Tucker admitted glumly. "I'm sorry, Cap'n, but we just don't have the manpower to do it any faster. Not with all the other things we gotta be doin' at the same time."
"Not your fault." Archer clenched his jaw for a moment to get his temper under control. "We're done with running away. We'll make our stand here and now. What about impulse power?"
"That's the good news," Tucker replied, clearly relieved that he could give the captain some. "It should be back online in a few minutes."
"I'll take all the good news I can get." Archer looked at the Denobulan. "Keep me posted, Doctor."
"Naturally, Captain," Phlox replied absent-mindedly, his eyes on the control screen above Crewman Naiman's head.
"Captain," T'Pol said carefully as they were heading back to the Bridge, "with your permission, I can see if there are any Vulcan ships within scanning range. I am sure they would come to our rescue."
"I'm sure they would," Archer replied with a thin smile. "After all, G.G. Is too important to let her fall into enemy hands again. But the Vulcan High Command is two days away at warp six. Do you really think these… shroomies would sit patiently out there, waiting for the arrival of a Vulcan battleship?"
"Shroomies, Captain?" T'Pol echoed in confusion.
Archer shrugged. "Their heads look like mushrooms. We have to call them something, since we don't know who they are."
"That is not a very scientific term you have chosen, sir," she commented.
"Perhaps not," the captain allowed. "I promise to use their real name as soon as you've found out what it is. If you'll excuse me, I need to see how things are progressing in the Armoury."
As one could have expected, tempers were running high in the Armoury, with Tucker, Reed and several crewmen working feverishly on the phase cannons.
"The stabiliser on cannon port two checks out okay, sir," Crewman Escobar reported
Reed gave him an annoyed glare. "Port two or port one?"
"Port one, sir," Escobar corrected himself. "Sorry."
"Get it right," Reed snapped. "And then start on those beam emitters."
"Yes, sir," Escobar grimaced but did as he'd been told.
Reed ignored him and crawled into the Jeffries tube where Charlie Tucker was already working.
"Targeting scanners will be online in an hour," Charlie told him.
"We should be aligning them by now, not installing them," Reed muttered angrily, removing the covering from an access panel.
"Perhaps you should tell the bad guys to stop shootin' at us till we're finished here," Tucker replied sarcastically. "You were a little hard on Eddie. Everyone's busting their tails to get this job done."
Reed opened his mouth but got an electric shock before he could say anything. "Ow!"
"You okay?" Tucker asked, suppressing a grin. Seeing their intrepid armoury officer sucking on his thumb was just too funny.
Reed removed the thumb from his mouth and scowled. "Yes, fine. I told them to depolarise these relays!"
"What were you trying to do?" the chief engineer asked.
"Bypass the EPS grid," Reed said.
Tucker stared at him in bewilderment. "Why?"
"Well, we could draw power for the cannons directly from the impulse engines," the armoury officer explained.
Tucker thought he wasn't hearing right. "Are you trying to make this blow up in your face?"
"The relays were rated to handle that much power," Reed argued.
Tucker shook his head. "What if there's a surge?"
"I've thought of that. These inverters were designed to cut in at the first sign of an overload."
"No way!" Tucker said decisively. "We're doin' this by the book, or we'll end up blowing a bigger hole in ourselves than the bad guys."
"I've run a dozen simulations," Reed insisted. "It's an acceptable risk."
Tucker gave him a glare that would have frozen Hell over. "When it comes to modifying ship systems, why don't you let the chief engineer decide what's an acceptable risk?"
"With all due respect, sir: if we do this by the book, those aliens are likely to be back before we're done," Reed said coolly.
"Why must you security types always say 'With all due respect' right when you're about to become really disrespectful?" Tucker mused; then he turned serious again. "Look, Lieutenant, I want to get this job done as quickly as you do. But not if it means takin' shortcuts that could get our people killed."
"I understand, sir, but…" Reed tried to continue arguing, but Tucker interrupted him.
"I guess we common Fleeters have a different view about which risks are acceptable than those who trained you at spy school. Unfortunately for you, I still have the last word about this particular topic."
"Yes, sir," Reed answered icily and went to check the installation of the targeting scanners.
Charlie Tucker and his team kept working deep into the simulated night of the ship. He'd told Reed the honest truth when he said he wanted the job done as quickly as possible. Enterprise was his baby, after all, as much as she was Jack's, and he didn't feel complete himself as long as something was wrong with her.
Fortunately, he'd picked a devoted team that felt the same way about her.
"Don't you ever rest?" Jack's voice startled him so much that he almost hit his head on the edge of a console. He hadn't expected the captain to come down to Engineering in the middle of the night – although, knowing Jack as well as he did, he probably should have.
"You know, I can't sleep without the warp engines online," he answered ruefully. "If I don't feel those vibrations, something just doesn't seem right."
He regretted the admission as soon as he'd spoken; being familiar with Jack's dirty sense of humour, he was sure some sort of innuendo was coming.
Jack, however, just shook his head in mild exasperation. "Well, I hope you get them fixed soon because you look like hell."
Charlie took in the captain's dishevelled look, the dark shadows under his eyes, and ginned humourlessly. "You shouldn't be talkin', Cap'n."
"Perhaps not," Jack allowed; then he spared the control screen a fleeting glance. "How's it coming?"
"It'll be online by the end of the day tomorrow, guaranteed," Charlie promised; then, since Jack was already there, he roped the captain in to help them. "Could you check the dilithium alignment for me?"
"Sure." While not an engineer himself, Jack had learned enough from his father to perform such simple tasks. "Point oh-six microns. We need to be very thorough, Trip. We'll be on our own until we reach Berengaria VIII."
Charlie nodded in agreement; this wasn't really news for him. "Let me know if it drops below point oh-three. Is there really no way of gettin' some assistance?"
Jack shook his head. "T'Pol found no Vulcan ship within scanning range. If she had, we'd be expecting a Surak class ship tomorrow, oh-so-politely offering to help us."
"Well, the Vulcans would have loved that," Charlie commented with a crooked smile. "Towin' the pride of Starfleet to its very first destination."
"This is the one time I wouldn't really mind it," Jack admitted, checking the dilithium flow again. "It's holding at point oh-five."
"Keep an eye on it," Charlie replied automatically; then what Jack had just said sank in and he blinked in surprise. "You wouldn't? But you were the one who fought the hardest to get us out here!"
"I never said we didn't belong out here!" Jack classified. "I just wish we'd have launched with all our systems online. Especially weapons."
"If we hadn't launched when we did, they'd have sent the cow lady back to Berengaria VIII in a box," Charlie reminded him.
"I keep reminding myself of that." Jack's shoulders slumped visibly. "But the honest truth is, Trip, that I rushed us out of Spacedock because I had something to prove, and I risked the lives of eighty-one humans, a Vulcan, and a Denobulan to do it."
"Don't forget Porthos," Charlie joked, trying to lighten the mood. Jack had such an over-developed sense of responsibility; it needed to be put into perspective sometimes.
The captain recognised the effort and smiled tiredly. "Thanks."
Charlie, however, wasn't done yet.
"Think about it," he said. "In the old days, astronauts rode rockets with millions of litres of hydrogen burnin' under their seats. You think they said, 'Gee I'd love goin' to the moon today but it seems a little risky'?"
"It's not the same," Jack said wearily.
"No," Charlie allowed. "But I think if you asked anyone on board whether they thought this mission was worth the risk you'd get the same answer from every one of them. Otherwise they wouldn't have signed up in the first place."
"Let me know when we're ready to go to warp," Jack said after a lengthy pause, and Charlie recognised it for the gratitude it meant. They never really needed big words between them.
"Aye, sir."
T'Pol made sure her presence would be welcome before visiting the Viseeth in the quarters assigned to them. Gerasen Gerasal might have proved surprisingly open-minded for one of their kind but that did not mean she was entitled to violate proper protocol.
Fortunately, Gerasen Gerasal declared themselves willing to meet her privately, and so she made her way to their temporary quarters at once.
The environmental controls had clearly been adjusted in the guest quarters according to Viseeth norm, for the air was warm and humid and the gravity somewhat lowered compared with the rest of the ship. T'Pol estimated it to be about 0.8 G. The Viseeth was wearing a silk dressing gown in human fashion, which surprised T'Pol a little, as their people generally didn't wear clothes, at least not while in their own environment.
"A compromise regarding human sensibilities," Gerasen Gerasal slid a webbed hand down the dark, jewel green silk. "They do have an odd relationship with nudity. Do you believe it comes from their gender binarism?"
"Hardly," T'Pol replied dryly; Vulcans also had two clearly defined opposite genders, after all. "They are merely young; and not being a telepathic species, they necessarily pay more attention to superficial traits."
"Perhaps," allowed the Viseeth; then they offered her a breathing mask. "No need to overtax your lungs with all the vapours mine need to function properly. And now tell me how I can help."
T'Pol accepted the mask – it would have been illogical and unreasonable to refuse it – and then she sat down to tell Gerasen Gerasal all about the attack and the intruders. The Viseeth listened with the typical focused intensity of their people.
"Do you have visual records?" they then asked.
"No actual ones," she replied. "Most ship systems were down, including the security cameras. But the captain put together a phantom image with the help of the computer." She handed the Viseeth a PADD. "He calls them Shroomies because of the shape of their heads. Do you know the species? I did not find them in the database."
"That is because they supposedly died out several hundred millennia ago," Gerasen Gerasal, replied, studying the phantom image with the Viseeth equivalent of a surprised frown. "We had no idea that some of them may still exist."
"So you know them?" T'Pol clarified.
The Viseeth nodded. "If they truly are who they seem to be, then yes, I do know them. They are called the Elachi. And if they are, then we have a problem."
~TBC~
Note: Humans generally refer to the Viseeth as "she" because they are not familiar (and probably not comfortable) with genderless creatures. T'Pol refers to them as "they" because A: Vulcans prefer scientifically exact terms and B: they have long got used to the Viseeth and their peculiar nature.
