Maleek of Romulus fidgeted nervously in his chair as he waited to see the ProConsul. He had been slightly nauseated ever since he had received the missive from Ston's father about the incident on the space station with Ston's sister and the humans. The man wanted to know what happened, and Maleek knew he wasn't going to be happy.

He heard footsteps. First, a pair of Remans appeared in the grand doorway and then came Ston's father, a stern and impressive man if there ever was one. Behind him was an attractive woman in an Imperial Guard uniform.

Maleek stood up, ready to tell the whole, awful truth — a truth that very well might condemn his old friend Ston to death.

Better him than me, thought Maleek like a good Romulan.

"The first thing I need to ask you," said the ProConsul, "is which of my sons gave the humans a dilithium sample. Which one?"

Maleek had decided on the truth, come what may.

"Ston did. Enme had nothing to do with it."

The ProConsul nodded.

"Tell me everything, now," he said.

Maleek began, sparing no details.


Enterprise was empty. The few members of the crew who weren't on Earth had been billeted on Jupiter Station during the refit and upgrades. Now, the work was complete, and no one, not even a stray maintenance worker remained aboard. The first person to step aboard was to be her new captain, followed by his Vulcan first officer.

"Is it okay to admit I feel like Archer should be here?" said Trip.

"It is to be expected, Captain," she replied, "but soon enough you will learn to think of Enterprise as your ship. You always thought of the engines as such, you need only extend the sentiment."

"You know," said Trip, "I'm going to miss engineering. I'm sure Hess will take good care of the engines. But promise if you ever see me trying to do her job, stop me."

"I shall consider that an order, Captain," replied T'Pol as they reached the bridge.

Trip approached the the captain's chair, but he didn't sit down. He looked back at T'Pol who had taken her place at the science station.

"You've sat there before, Captain,"

"Yes," he said, "but never as the official captain. And never with you there watching me."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Shall I leave?"

Trip smiled at her.

"No."

He sat down.

"It doesn't feel any different," he said.

"Of course not," she said, "It's the same chair that has always been there. Of course, you could readjust it for your height."

Trip sat back, amused at her literal Vulcan mind.

"I might do that. When are you meeting Malcolm and the Section 31 spooks, again?"

"The first briefing will occur at 0800 tomorrow. Only Lt. Commander Reed, Ensign Sato and representatives from Tellarite and Andorian intelligence will be there. Even Admiral Archer will not attend."

"Glad to see I'm not the only one who wasn't invited…I hear our things have been moved into the newly expanded captain's quarters. Shall we take a look?"

"Yes, Captain."

Trip got out of the chair, and T'Pol followed him, hands behind her back.

"You wouldn't consider calling me Trip when no one is around, would you?"

"Not while we are on duty or in non-personal space. Once inside our new quarters, I will call you Trip if it will make you happy, Captain."

"It'll make me happy, dar…Commander."


"Maybe I should ask Phlox if one of his creatures can cure PTSD," said Hoshi, "That was exhausting."

They had just reached Malcolm's quarters after spending two hours with the therapist. His methodology was to have Hoshi spend an hour reliving the events with the Xindi while he and Malcolm listened, then they spent an hour talking about what kinds of experiences triggered memories of those events. Malcolm had been there to provide the support a clinician simply could not. He had been very impressed at how cooperative Hoshi had been during the process, and he felt that she was making real progress, though he wan't an expert.

"Care to come in, luv?"

"I was hoping you'd ask," she said.

They entered together, and she sat down at the little table in front of the window. It had a view of Enterprise as she was docked.

"I'll make you some tea," he said. "I've got Vulcan, Japanese and British varieties. Take your pick."

"Vulcan," she replied. "I don't want any caffeine. I want to sleep well for tomorrow."

"I'm glad you are feeling up to it. But if you feel like you can't handle it, we'll use the UT."

"I'm the only person in this system besides Enme who speaks Romulan. It's my job to be there. Besides, I think I might be able to help. He clearly likes me, and I might be able to convince him to help us."

Malcolm felt a twinge of insecurity but then pushed it aside as he poured boiling water into his teapot. She was with him, not the Romulan. He glanced at Hoshi out of the corner of his eye. She appeared oblivious to his jealously — probably because he had no reason to be jealous.

"I don't want you to do anything that will-" he stopped.

She stood up and moved to stand next to him.

"I'll do anything to help. If it means opening up negotiations, if it means possibly ending this conflict…then my mental state has to come second. You know that. But really, I will be fine."

Malcolm stared at her.

"You would do the same, and I don't think you'd love me as much if I weren't willing to put myself in harm's way for the greater good. That's what we do. It's our job."

"I do love you," he said, leaning over and kissing her.

"And I love you," she whispered into the kiss.

He pulled back.

"I mean it," she said, "Nobody's ever stuck by me the way you have. Nobody's ever…I love you, all right?"

Malcolm bit his lip. The second time, he started to believe it.

He pulled her into a far harder and more passionate kiss, and soon their hands found the zippers of their uniforms, which they wiggled out of in record time. He carried her to his bed and laid her gently down. Before joining her, he took one of her tiny feet and began massaging it.

"How many different languages can you say it in?"

She had to think about it for a moment.

"Forty-seven. I think. Maybe forty-six. I'm not sure the Axinars have a word for love in the way we understand it."

"Forty-six," he replied. "That's a lot. I plan to make you say it in all of them."

He crawled up on the bed and began planting kisses up her legs and to her inner thighs.

"How are you going to make me?"

"I have some ideas," he said.


Trip sprawled on the big bed in their new quarters and looked out the expansive window. Instead of his cramped office in engineering, he now had a ready room, spacious quarters and his own private mess.

"This is way better than the two bunks they pushed together to make our old bed."

"It's a new mattress," remarked T'Pol who was looking around at what were her new quarters, as well. "The old one smelled of the Admiral's beagle."

"Archer had a dog. I have a wife," he said patting the bed. "I think I'm the luckier captain. Hey, how do you know what the captain's bed smelled like?"

Even just a few months earlier, she would have been dismayed by an implication that she had been unfaithful to her bondmate, but she recognized the teasing nature of the question. She sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I could smell Porthos's scent from the door," she replied smoothly.

Trip sometimes liked to bring up a potential attraction between her and Archer just so he could sense the lack-of-attraction that would course through her mind. Archer may have been the superior officer and great hero of the Xindi conflict, but the lowly chief engineer had won the heart of the first officer. It was an uneven exchange, with himself getting the better bargain.

"I always envied the captain that shower," said Trip, "now it's my shower. Our shower."

T'Pol stood up and opened the bathroom door wide.

"It's much more spacious than the shower in our previous quarters," said T'Pol.

"We did make good use of our old one," replied Trip. "I'm going to miss it."

"It is illogical to miss a shower," she said.

"I guess we'll just have to make new memories in this one," he said, getting up on his elbows.

"Is that an order, Captain?"

"I thought I told you to call me Trip when we were in our quarters," he said, "but yes, let's consider the shower thing an order."

T"Pol unzipped the front of her uniform and carefully removed it. She hung it on a hanger in the small closet, and then removed the bottom portion of the uniform and her boots, putting them away as well. She stood in her grey, Starfleet-issue underwear for a moment before she strode into the bathroom and set the shower control for Vulcan body temperature plus 5 percent. She then stood at her Vulcan at-ease posture.

"Any more orders, Captain?"

Trip stood up and joined her in the bathroom.

"Take my uniform off," he said, effecting his best captain's tone.

She obeyed, unzipping his jumpsuit and gracefully removing the garment before hanging it next to hers. The temperature in the room was set for human comfort, and Trip noticed that her nipples had become hard in the chill.

"Anything else, Captain?"

Trip ran his hand down her arms and then slowly across the top of her chest. The steam from the shower was filling the room.

"I'm going to have to handle the next step myself," he said as he pulled off her top.

He then reached down and cupped her face in his hands and kissed her very deeply. Their tongues danced for a long while, and then he broke the kiss so he could remove her bottoms as well. He then pulled off his Starfleet blues.

"Now," he said, "turn around and get under the water."

She followed his command, but she looked back at him.

"Did I say you could turn around, Commander?"

She raised an eyebrow, but she again faced the tiled wall. Trip came up behind her so he too was under the warm water. He squirted some soap from the dispenser into his hand and rubbed his hands together to create a lather.

"Hands on the wall, Commander. And spread you legs wider."

She obeyed, and he slowly began to massage her back, applying pressure to the neural nodes he was so familiar with. Then, he moved down to her glutes and the back of her thighs, then back up to her back. He knew of one very sensitive neural node on her lower back. He pressed there, and she moaned and placed her head against the cool tile. As she did so, her rear end stuck out further and he took the opportunity to slide his hand down the crack and between her legs. He slipped a finger insider her and then two.

She writhed with pleasure as he stroked her, her eyes shut and her breathing erratic. He had wanted to draw this out, but the sight of her was too tempting. He removed his fingers, and she made a small noise in protest.

"Somethin' wrong, Commander?"

She took a deep breath.

"No…sir," she whispered.

"You must always be honest with your captain. Any requests you'd like to make? I'm going to make it a point to try and accommodate the needs of my senior officers."

He grinned. Pure Vulcan irritation coursed through her mind.

"I wish to engage in sexual relations, Captain. Immediately."

He positioned himself behind her, and he pushed inside her. As many times as he felt it, he always gasped at the heat of her body. When he had gone as far as he could go, he whispered in her ear.

"All you had to do was ask," he said, then he gently bit the pointed tip.

She shivered and leaned further against the wall as he began to thrust. He reached around her body, caressing her with skilled fingers. When she came, she cried out something in her native language and nearly collapsed. He supported her with his strong arms as he climaxed into her. He pressed them both against the cool tile as the water washed over them in their mutual delirium.

A few minutes later, they had finished the bathing portion of the shower, and Trip dashed to the closet to retrieve a couple towels, making a mental note to remember them the next time. T'Pol turned off the water and he dried her off and wrapped her up.

"Thank you, Captain."

"You can call me, Trip now," he said, his voice casual.

"Thank you, Trip," she said, drying him off, "We shall not make a habit of bringing our ranks into our quarters."

He saw a hint of amusement in her eyes.

"Nah," he said, "but once and awhile …"

"That would not be disagreeable," she said, "but remember, you promised to let me give the orders now and then. At least, when we're alone."

She kissed him lightly, and there was a mischievous promise in her eyes.

"A deal's a deal, baby," he said as he gathered her up in his arms and placed her on their bed.

He crawled up next to her and kissed her slowly. His face turned serious.

"I don't think I'd be able to do this without you," he said, "especially with all the trouble ahead."

She caressed his face, and the true confidence she had in him entered his mind. He closed his eyes.

"Don't underestimate yourself, Thy'la," she said, "you are the only person who could have replaced Jonathan Archer as captain of this vessel. He knows that. I know that. You must trust in that."

He held her close, and they both looked out at the stars for a long while. Then, they redressed in their uniforms, planning on returning to the station for dinner.

Before they left, Trip looked at himself in the mirror, taking special notice of the gold stripe and the new pip. The insecurity that had gripped him since his promotion faded away, and he knew that this was his vessel, his crew and his command. He was captain.