It went on for a while. Lili would, every night, go to the Observation Lounge and read. She made it through Kafka's works, moved onto Dante and, eventually, Mark Twain and then the collected works of Thomas Hardy. Usually, her little canine entourage would join her.
And José would join her as well. He, too, read, although his selections were the ship's many engineering manuals, both the official ones from the time of their launch and then whatever he could get his hands on from the earlier version of the NX-01.
While he did not attempt to so much as touch her hand, and they rarely spoke, except in greeting and at the time of departure, he was hopeful. For one thing, she was always there. And she would clean up for their reading sessions, and her hair was often in a pretty blue ribbon. It wasn't dating. It was more like, almost, two people visiting a library.
As time had elapsed, and one year slipped into a second, their chances for non-canine company began to really diminish as, one by one, the Ikaaran women moved out, and into quarters that they would share with human men. Finally, the last one left was Lemnestra, who often made herself useful by working with T'Pol or Phlox or Shelby. The Ikaaran had a science background and was a quick study. Plus she continued to want to make up for not alerting the captain when Verinold had taken the shuttle, thereby causing Chang's death. And so she worked hard, going above and beyond the call of duty much of the time.
People did come to the Observation Lounge in order to look at the half-finished sphere, but this was a far more sedate and private crowd than the one on the earlier version of the NX-01. Meredith and Rex Ryan still sang and played the guitar, respectively, but it was a rare treat, as opposed to a regular thing. The arrival of their son, Nicholas, precluded all but the most special of special performances.
There were fewer parties held, as there was less of a need for mixers. People knew who they wanted, for the most part, and came together quickly and voluntarily. They all knew – due to the specter of the decline and their memories of Chang, Harris, Haynem, Slocum, Hayes and Reed – that life was short, and they'd better make their limited time count.
=/\=
It was September of 2039, and things were going well enough on the little planet, although it remained unnamed. The captain granted permission for another trip out. As per usual, Kerna piloted, but this time her passengers were T'Pol, Captain Archer and Eddie Hamboyan.
"Do you have the coordinates?" asked the captain.
"I do," replied Kerna.
"Captain," T'Pol stated, "perhaps a visit to this particular world would be unwise."
"We'll stay cloaked," Captain Archer commanded, "but we've got to check out the lay of the land. We know that there is dilithium on the planet we're going to. We also know that there are Ikaaran men working there, but they're gone by October of this year."
"They're captured by an Imvari slaver ship," Eddie stated.
"Oh, good, you managed to get to the debriefing materials from the earlier version of the NX-01," said the captain, "but we don't know the exact date when all of that happened. We are going to have to deal with the Imvari again; their vessel isn't destroyed for a while."
"There is a high probability that there is more than one Imvari slaver vessel," T'Pol noted.
"Of course," agreed Kerna, "still, this is the one we know of. It is a pity that we cannot help out our brethren, or warn them. But I imagine that would not only bend the timeline, but would break it clean in two."
"You're probably right," stated Eddie. He was sitting up front with her, and put a hand on her arm for a second. They smiled at each other. It was a brief private moment for two people in love.
"We need our own intel," the captain decided, "timeline or no timeline. There's no reason to believe that we'll never run into the Imvari again. We've got to be ready."
"We can collect some more of the material from the thermobaric cloud layer," Kerna suggested, "We can never have enough of that fuel."
As they approached the system where there was dilithium mining, Kerna switched on the cloak. Everything was covered, it shimmered for a moment and then turned invisible, even the blue paint sprayed on the hull which read The Daniel Chang.
The system had a sun that was smaller and dimmer than Sol, and the world they were looking for was farther away from its sun than even Mars was. It was the fifth planet in that system.
They got into orbit around the planet first. "It's so dim here," Eddie opined, "between this and our planet and the Enterprise, it just feels like we'll never see bright lights again."
"Ikaaria is brighter, too," Kerna reported.
T'Pol checked her tricorder, which was tied into the Ikaaran shuttle's main computer system. "There is a ship down there, in the Northern hemisphere, and a small settlement, very bare bones. It appears to be intact. I am reading seventeen Ikaaran bio signs, all male, and there is evidence of dilithium mining."
"Okay, so this is before the fire fight, when they were taken captive," explained Jonathan, "let's head to the thermobaric cloud layer and pick up more fuel. It looks to me like this dilithium is off-limits, at least for another month or so."
"I can see two ships on long range," T'pol reported.
"Can you figure out what they are?" asked the captain.
"I see them, too," confirmed Kerna, "One appears to be Imvari. As for the other one, I am uncertain."
T'Pol was quiet as she kept checking. "T'Pol?" asked the captain.
The Vulcan finally looked up. "It appears to be Xindi Insectoid."
"Oh," said the captain, "we need to get out of here."
"Right away," said Kerna, "heading to the thermobaric clouds now."
"No," said Captain Archer, "let's not take any chances. Let's head straight back to the Enterprise."
"Understood," replied the Ikaaran, changing course.
=/\=
"I'm getting a lot of subspace chatter," Hoshi reported to Tripp, who had command.
"Oh? Is it our people on the shuttle, or on the surface?" he asked.
"No, sir," she replied, "Well, some of it's Imvari. The other piece is mainly clicking."
"Ikaaran? We can translate that pretty easily, right?"
She listened for a moment, checking. "No, it's not Ikaaran. It's," she turned pale, "Xindi Insectoid."
"What the hell? Where's the captain?" he asked Diana, who was at the Science station.
"They're still cloaked. If they held their last known course and speed, they'd be near that dilithium mining planet by now."
"So far as I can tell," Hoshi said, "they haven't spotted our shuttle."
"Aidan?" Tripp asked.
"I'm picking up warp trails for the Imvari and," he paused for a second to adjust an instrument, "there. There's the Insectoid trail. They aren't close to the dilithium mining planet. But their course does suggest that as a destination."
"I can encrypt a message," Hoshi suggested. "It can sound just like Ikaaran speech. But the captain should be able to pick it up as Morse code. I can bounce it off the half-built sphere. The Imvari won't know it's coming from here."
"Do it," Tucker commanded, "and get Maryam Haroun or Chip Masterson in here to help you, whoever you need."
"Got it," she said.
It took maybe twenty minutes with Chip's help. Hoshi began to tap out the message. Insectoid ship and Imvari slaver heading to dilithium mining world. STOP. Return to base. STOP. Repeat – return to base immediately.
=/\=
On board the Daniel Chang, they received the message. "It's unintelligible," said Kerna, "these are patterns that have no meaning in my tongue."
"It's the patterns," Jonathan listened intently, "R-E-P-E-A-T." They listened to the remainder of the message and he recited it to the other three people in the shuttle. "Answer them using the same patterning. I can help you."
"What shall I say?" asked the Ikaaran.
"Acknowledged. Returning to you now. Dilithium mining planet remains off-limits."
Together, they created the message and sent it. They made their way. The Chang was not wholly out of thermobaric fuel, but it was beginning to run dangerously low on it. Getting to the correct anomaly field could not happen fast enough.
=/\=
In the galley, Lili, Craig and Brian worked on dinner. The meal was a fairly elaborate dish meant to mix Ikaaran and human tastes – procul stuffed with olowa and garnished with figs.
"Not too finely with the chopping," Lili told Craig.
"Right, Chef."
"How's the procul coming, Craig?"
"It's still too pink. Should I turn up the heat?"
"No, uh, give it another ten minutes. Dessert, dessert," she murmured absently, opening up the door to the refrigeration unit. She saw a small plastic container and opened it. "Oh, God, it's pineapple." Overcome, she sat down on a stool and started crying.
"What's the matter?" asked Craig as soon as he saw and heard her. She just showed him the container.
"You put that there," Brian reminded her, "don't you remember? It was yesterday. We used it for the procul that we made taste like ham. You sliced it yourself."
"It, it doesn't matter," she moaned, "it still hurts."
"Look, Lili," Craig told her, "we got this. Don't worry. Just, uh, go to your quarters or Sick Bay or even just to the mess. Don't serve and don't even think about cleaning up. We will handle this."
"Are you – are you sure?" she asked, still weepy.
"Positive," Brian exhorted her, "now go."
She left and he turned to Craig. "I dunno the first thing about finishing the cooking. Do you?"
"Nope. We'll, we'll wing it," Craig decided.
"Huh," Brian muttered. He clicked open his communicator. "Uh, Izquilla? Can you and Dakiza come to the galley? We need your help."
=/\=
Lili sat down at a corner table in the cafeteria, near the viewing portal. Just about everyone else was getting on the chow line. Jennifer came over. "You okay?"
"No, not really," Lili sighed, "Yanno, it's funny. I can go along for months and I'm just fine. And then I saw a container of sliced pineapple and I totally freaked out."
"I guess you're still affected," Jenny speculated. There was the sound of a toddler becoming impatient. "Sorry, I better go and see what the heck's happening with Steven."
"Right," Lili replied absently as Jenny left to tend to her son.
"May I sit with you this evening?" It was Lemnestra.
"Oh, um, sure."
Brian emerged and he had a huge platter in his hands. On it was the procul roast, stuffed as Lili had wanted. "The dinner, it looks very good," said the Ikaaran, "It also smells very appealing. You have outdone yourself."
"Oh, uh, most of the credit goes to the boys. We, uh, you and I, we don't talk much."
"We do not. Such is the pity we are the only two unclaimed women aboard, since Patti Socorro wed Derek Kelby."
"True," Lili agreed.
"For me, it is, I believe, that there is still residual mistrust. And I do not blame them," Lemnestra looked down.
"I think you've done a lot to prove yourself. It's hard to say what else you should do."
"But you!" Lemnestra enthused, "I am certain that they all admire you."
"No," Lili shook her head, "I'm what they call damaged goods."
=/\=
On the Xindi Insectoid ship, they spoke their language, a combination of whistles and clicks, and some whirring that vibrated at a frequency that was of a pitch higher than humans or Ikaarans could hear. Their captain said one word, "Report."
Their Tactical Officer replied, "We have scanned the area. It is all Ikaaran, the warp signatures and alloys. There is no trace of, what did the Sloth call them?"
"Humans," answered the Communications Officer.
The Insectoid captain spoke again. "It was near the time that Xindus Prime was destroyed, as I recall. My mother was in command of this ship. None of us were alive then, just under two years ago, of course. And the Sloth were trying to make peace with these humans. But they were treacherous. As the Sphere Builders have said, it is humans who are destined to commit genocide upon us. They are not in the Delphic Expanse for peaceful purposes."
"The Sloth who tried to make peace with them, they were foolish," interjected the Tactical Officer.
"Yes, and our ancestors put a stop to that," confirmed the captain.
"A good thing they did," agreed the Communications Officer.
"There were four of these Sloth captains," clarified the Insectoid captain, "named Scafen, Prala, Ketton and Krivan. We all know that Krivan and Prala were killed when she was visiting his ship, and it crashed into a sphere."
"Imprecise piloting is so hazardous," stated the pilot, "but what of the other two?"
"Ketton was reported reassigned as I recall, away from warp vessels and combat and such. A bit of, they say, battle fatigue. I hear it is a danger for Humanoids and Sloth. But you know that for us, and for Reptilians, it is nonexistent as a malady."
"What about Aquatics?" inquired the Communications Officer.
"They do not say," the Insectoid captain laughed.
"You forgot the fourth one, Scafen. What happened to that one?" asked the Tactical Officer.
"He is in the prison for sedition. But enough of them. Let us contact our Imvari allies. I wish to share a meal with them," replied the captain.
A channel was opened up. "We have recently obtained good slaves from an Ikaaran mining operation," said their Imvari contact. "It was an all-male work crew."
"The females are worth more, yes?" asked the Insectoid captain.
"Yes," confirmed the Imvari counterpart, "but these males are used to hard work. We will be able to get a lot off their backs before they are thrown on the rubbish heap. Now, about this meal …"
=/\=
At their table, Lili and Lemnestra ate quietly. Kelsey Haber came over. "What's for dessert?" he asked.
"I'm not sure," Lili stated honestly, "I kinda bugged out before I made anything. I guess the fellows whipped something up."
"Can I get some for you, Lemnestra?" he asked.
"Me?"
"Yeah," he confirmed.
Lili got up and left, knowing that she was the fifth wheel. She went into the galley, where Brian and Craig were running around and grabbing serving utensils for ice cream. Quietly, she muttered to herself, "It's just like last time. I am the last woman standing."
=/\=
Kelsey Haber's Personal Log, September twentieth, 2039
We had a good time tonight, me and Lemnestra. This is the start of something really special.
=/\=
José Torres's Personal Log, September twentieth, 2039
I saw Lili was upset today. But I don't know what to say. I can barely talk to her at all.
=/\=
Charlotte Lilienne O'Day's Personal Log, September twentieth, 2039
I can't be wigging out like that. It's not fair to the boys. But I feel awful. Even now, nothing feels right. I still miss them both so, so much.