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War and Peace - Ch 2

Author - Energy4TripnT’Pol
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War and Peace

By: Energy4TripnT’Pol

Rating: PG
Disclaimer: An episode of “Star Trek: Enterprise”: $ on Paramount’s budget. Getting Trip and T’Pol together: priceless for us desperate fanfic writers. So no, I’m not making money and Paramount owns the series and all the characters involved (mostly).
Genre: Of course romance, slight angst, some mystery, just a hint of everything else . Summary: Archer and company arrive on a planet with traces of Xindi technology. But when Archer encounters a temporal anomaly and meets a Trip Tucker from the future, he learns about a future that two of his friends could have. Meanwhile, Archer is so busy in the anomaly that in orbit, Enterprise has 3.5 hours to leave before a Xindi vessel arrives.
Archiving: No archiving, please.
Author’s Note: This story takes place during the third season of Enterprise before “Similitude” and “Harbinger” (in other words, before any ideas of Trip and T’Pol’s romance, excepting neuro-pressure). I wrote this before I even knew about the episode “North Star”, so forgive me if anything seems like copycatting. ‘The Captain’s Table’ idea is from the omnipedia about each of the series captains, yet another idea I borrowed. Enjoy!

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CHAPTER 2

Jonathan Archer was confused, and apparently the alien knew it.

The darkened area lit up, and it suddenly became a lively bar, complete with tables, chairs, and a bar. In the corner, there was even a billiards table. Archer’s eyes widened. “What is this?” he demanded of the man.

The man smiled. “The Captain’s Table. Your Ensign Sato was able to translate the sign; you shouldn’t be surprised.”

“I’m not surprised,” Archer replied. “I just mean, where am I?”

“That’s the same thing I asked when I first found this place,” a female voice answered from the billiards table. Archer turned and this time was mildly surprised to see a human, this time a pregnant woman. She wore a uniform of some type with a metallic badge on her chest. “And it takes someone with a good ear and a smart mouth to explain it.” She glanced at the bartender. “I’ll explain. You grab a beer, Cap.”

The bartender raised his eyebrows. She smiled. “For Captain Archer, not me.”

He nodded in understanding and went behind the bar.

She motioned to an empty table. “Please sit, Captain.”

Archer stood fixed, but at first glance he doubted the woman would cause any harm. He was more worried about harm coming to her. He put away his phase pistol and took a seat next to her. He quickly looked her over. He didn’t see weapons of any sort, but he still questioned her innocence. Her two-piece uniform was mainly black, shoulders a shade of gray. She appeared to be wearing a red shirt under her jacket with four gold circular pins on her right collar. And the badge. He eyed it, and asked, “What’s that?”

She glanced at it, and then picked it off her uniform. She turned it over in her hand, replying, “I know I shouldn’t say anything, but if you promise not to tell any of this to your crew?”

He paused, and then nodded.

“It’s a comm badge. Very similar to your communicator, but this is much more efficient.”

Archer’s curiosity got the better of him, and as the bartender brought him a beer, he asked, “How so?”

“For starters, the UT is incorporated into this. Works a lot faster, too. It’s instantaneous.” She handed it to him for him to personally examine.

He took it from her proffered hand. He looked at it and upon closer examination he found it was made of precious metals. “Gold?”

“Yes, that’s one of the elements of the casing.”

He handed it back to her and she replaced it. “So, what is this place?”

She made a sweeping motion with her hand. “The Captain’s Table. More appropriate title would be temporal cafe, but . . .”

At the mention of temporal, Archer’s mind jumped to the Suliban. “Temporal,” he repeated.

Seeing how his eyes had narrowed, the woman sighed. “I’m sorry. I forgot about your troubles. Don’t worry, this isn’t a Suliban or Xindi trap.”

Amazed that the woman knew his worries, he asked, “What makes you say that?”

“If I was in your shoes, I would be worrying about Suliban or Xindi interference too. Anyway, you recall I said temporal cafe?” As he nodded, she brushed a strand of brown hair behind her ear. “This place is a bar that at one time or another, captains of all species will come to. It extends through time, so you might see your old friends or some people you’ll never meet like me. I guess you were exploring a planet in connection with the Xindi when you found the hub?”

Archer was dumbfounded. “Yeah, but how--?”

The woman smiled. “Like I said, captains come here from all times. Right now, you’re in 2153. Where I’m from, it’s 2378.”

“How?”

“I’m not exactly sure about that. But since this is your first time here, there’s a few rules you need to know about.”

“Like no other crewmen in here?”

The woman glanced at Cap, then back at Archer when he shrugged. “Oh. Were you leading an away team?”

The term caught Archer by surprise, but it meant the same thing to him. “Yes. My linguist disappeared.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, she thinks you’ve disappeared too.”

Archer’s mind began flashing back to the ghost town. Worries about Hoshi and his team flooded him mind. “Are they okay?”

She bit her lip. “I can’t say.”

“Why not?”

“One of the rules is that captains cannot tell others information that will change the timeline.”

Archer began getting mad. “Are you saying something happens to them?”

“No, I’m just saying that since in your eyes, I’m from the future, I’m not allowed to tell you anything that happens in your future.” Cap had brought her a drink, and she sipped it. Steam rose from it. “I’m sorry, Captain.”

“Jon.”

“I’m sorry?”

He smiled, and then sipped his beer. Just like home. “My name. What’s yours?”

She sat down her mug. “Oh, I’m sorry. It slipped my mind.” She extended her hand. “Captain Kimberly Barnes. Starfleet.”

Archer shook her hand, and his eyes widened as she said this. “Really?”

She smiled sweetly. “Yeah, Starfleet goes on. And on.”

He held up a hand and chuckled. “Hey, thought you said you can’t tell me about the future.”

“Well, Daniels already told you about Starfleet and the beginnings of the Federation.”

Archer nodded. “Yeah, it’s been a while, but he did.”

Barnes shook her head. “He didn’t indulge you with a lot of information, did he?”

“No, just what it was. And he said it started in 2161.”

Barnes shook her head again. “It really started back when the Vulcans made first contact with Cochrane.” She shrugged. “But then again, some people really didn’t like the Vulcans,” she added, nodding a glance at Archer.

“A lot of people know I don’t like the Vulcans. Well, excepting T’Pol.”

“Because she resigned her commission with them and stayed on your ship, unknowing what effects the Delphic Expanse would have on her?” Barnes queried.

“That and some other things.” He caught Barnes looking at him with a suggestive glance. “No, I don’t like her that way.”

“Well, you never know.” She sipped her beverage, and then glanced around. “So, see anyone here you recognize?” she asked, steering away the conversation from personal preferences.

Archer looked around. Most were alien to him, some he recognized the species only. Vulcan, Andorian, even Klingon. He raised his eyebrows. Not one of them were trying to kill each other, and the last he heard the Vulcan High Council and the Andorians were still angry. And then he turned to a pool table. Seeing someone he recognized with graying hair, he squinted, thinking his vision was blurry, and then turned to Barnes. “Is that who I think it is?”

Barnes glanced, and then looked back to Archer. “Yeah. Captain Tucker.”

Archer slumped a bit, and then picked up his beer. “You weren’t lying, were you?”

Barnes raised an eyebrow. “Captain, why would I have a reason to lie? Your exploits are required reading at Starfleet Academy. Most officers I know would give their commissions to get a chance to personally meet you.” As he sipped and set it down, Tucker sat down his stick and walked over to the table.

“Jon,” he smiled, the skin near his slightly lightening temples wrinkling a bit as he did.

“Trip.”

Trip Tucker pulled out a chair and joined the duo. He looked around, and then pointed a finger back at Archer. “You know, I could never figure out what the heck you were talkin’ about when you said you were transported to a bar on that planet. Had to get promoted to find out for myself.”

Archer glanced between the two captains, and then looked towards Trip. “What happens?”

Trip glanced at Barnes, and sighed. “Sorry, but as the good captain here has probably explained,” he answered, nodding his head towards Barnes and making her smile, “I can’t tell you anything about the future.”

“You know her?” Archer asked.

Tucker nodded. “Yeah, we’ve come here a couple times. But last time, she wasn’t that big.”

“Oh, thanks, Trip,” she said pathetically. She grinned and glanced towards Archer. “I think he doesn’t believe me.”

Trip frowned. “Oh, why wouldn’t he believe you?”

She rolled her eyes at him, and then replied, “Because I think he is beginning to believe as the Vulcans did in that there is no such thing as time travel.”

“But this isn’t time travel, is it?” Trip questioned.

The bartender spoke up. “No, not time travel. Just transported to, well, let’s say a temporal abnormality.” Cap slung the washing rag over his shoulder and continued wiping down the bar.

Archer glanced around. “If we can talk, then I can talk to the others?” he asked as Barnes picked up her drink and sipped it.

She was about to answer when the doors opened behind him. Another human, dressed similar to Barnes, entered the bar and walked to Barnes. “Kim,” he called, smiling kindly.

“John!” she replied in surprise and clanged her drink down on the table. As they paused a moment, Archer glanced him over. The only difference between the uniforms was that John’s had a belt with a silver buckle, as well as boxed in pips on his collar. Just like Admiral Forrest. Archer wondered if there was a connection when she responded, “How did you find me?”

“Well, considering the sign on that ‘Italian bistro’ you said you were going to said ‘The Captain’s Table,’ Cap was kind enough to let me in,” he explained, making quotation marks with his fingers. “Sorry, Kim, I was just a little worried.” He nodded at her stomach, larger than normal, and Archer immediately understood. This must have been her husband.

She looked at her companions and gasped. “Oh, I’m sorry. My manners are flying out the door as we speak. Captain Archer, Trip, my husband. Admiral John Barnes.”

As Trip extended his hand, he smiled and said, “Thought this was just a captain’s bar.”

“He used to be a captain, and he’s a good friend of mine,” Cap replied from the door leading behind the bar, bringing a beer for the newly arrived admiral. “Here, John. You need it.”

John picked it off the server, and then asked, “Why?”

“Because I know how old you are and you’ve got a new one coming.” Cap laughed quietly and took his serving plate back behind the bar and attended to a few others.

John shrugged. “He’s right.” He quickly downed the beer to the amazement of Archer, Trip, and his wife.

“Did you just drink that whole thing?” Kim asked.

“Yeah. Hard day.”

Barnes’ head suddenly snapped to one side. “Oh, thanks. I was trying to forget.”

Archer and Tucker gazed upon her with curiosity.

She looked back to them. “There was an accident on the Enterprise. My son was involved, and right now he’s in a coma at Starfleet Medical.”

At the mention of Enterprise, Archer’s eyes widened. “Did you just say--?”

Enterprise? Yes, she goes on and on and on.” She stood up. “Lovely conversing with you gentlemen today. Maybe I’ll see you again soon.” She acknowledged Archer with a nod, and said, “Good luck with the Xindi, Captain Archer.” She looked at Tucker, saying in farewell, “By the way, check the secondary plasma injector on your shuttlepod. Might explain why the panels were flashing your birthday and age.”

“Or it could have been T’Pol,” he replied, smiling. “You take care with the baby, Kim.”

She nodded and smiled. “Good night.” She and John walked out of the bar and disappeared, transported back to their own time.

Trip watched after them, and then turned back to find Archer’s gaze fixed on him. “What do you mean, it could have been T’Pol?”

Tucker shrugged. “Oh, that. I told Barnes that my first officer and I were on a mission in Shuttlepod Three and all of a sudden, the consoles begin flashing my birthday was that day and how old I was. She,” Trip paused, nodding to the door to indicate Captain Barnes was the “she” he was referring to, “suggested one of the crew did it for payback. That was just before you walked in.”

“And you said T’Pol could have done it?” Archer pressed.

“Yeah, well,” he said, kind of shrugging it off as if he was trying to avoid divulging more information. “And she knows darn well I don’t like it when people do that. But I’ve known her long enough. She can get away with it.”

“She’s doing okay?”

Trip grinned. “Yeah, as well as a 75-year-old Vulcan can be.” Archer couldn’t help but smile. He remembered how Trip had been making such a big deal about trying to find out how old T’Pol was, and apparently he had finally succeeded. Something else that hadn’t changed was that Vulcans had 200 year life spans; compared to a human, T’Pol would have been in her thirties. He sighed. “T’Pol. Hated her at first.”

“Me too, Trip.” Archer downed the last little gulp of beer, and then looked at Cap, hoping for a refill. Cap saw him and, after filling up a new glass, came and replaced it. “But she proved to be one of the most . . . valuable people I know.”

“Yeah.” Trip cast his eyes on the table, hiding something that he didn’t want Archer to see. He began to wonder if there was something else but before he could ponder it over Trip sighed, and then looked back to the pool game he’d left. “Hey, can I introduce you to some friends?” he asked, nodding his head back to the corner.

Archer paused a moment, then smiled and nodded. As Trip stood up and led him to the corner, introducing people both human and not, Archer calmed. But just beneath his surface, he worried about the away team he left behind.

* * *

Trip Tucker worried about Captain Archer. So did everyone else in the shuttlepod as it docked in the launch bay. As the bay recompressed, the ramp lowered to the access hatch on top of the pod. Trip leaped out before everyone else and bounded up the steps. At the top was T’Pol, who had apparently just stepped out of the control room. Tucker had already explained to the rest that when he went back for Hoshi, T’Pol began to protest a headache coming on. Unknowing what strange microbes could be affecting her, Trip told her to beam up.

Besides the cold, he was aware of T’Pol scrutinizing his appearance. His away jacket was soaked with water. “What happened?” T’Pol inquired.

“A freak monsoon. We’re all drenched to our underclothes,” Trip mentioned.

She looked down at the pod, steaming from the water evaporating during the hot ascent. “Dr. Phlox is waiting by the decon chamber.”

Trip groaned, but nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He began to march past her, then stopped and turned to her. “The captain?”

She faced him. “The scanners did not show the captain to be on the planet.”

Trip closed his eyes and sighed. He opened them and walked past T’Pol. “Can this day get any worse?” he muttered, dumping his away jacket on the deck. Immediately, he disliked the idea but thought if he kept it on any longer, he’d end up with pneumonia.

“Indeed it can.”

He stopped, whirled around when T’Pol responded. “What?” he asked, slightly skeptical.

She stepped towards the control room. “May we confer in private?”

He nodded. In any case, it would delay his trip to decon. He passed the others coming from the shuttlepod. “Go on to decon. I’ll be there in a few.” He waved them on, and then turned into the control room. T’Pol had already vacated the crewman on duty from the room. “What’s wrong?”

She turned and sat. “I did not wish the others to hear my report. A heavily armed vessel was detected by sensors a half hour ago. Its course will take it through the system in approximately 4.5 hours from now.”

“Do you have any idea who it is?”

She seemed as though she were worried. Trip noticed and asked, “T’Pol, you okay?”

Her gaze wavered, and then looked back to him. “I believe so.”

He nodded. “Well, just in case, stop by Sickbay later. Any idea who it is?”

“Their ion trail matches one in the Xindi database. It belongs to the Reptilian Xindi.”

Trip smiled falsely. “Ohh, boy. Sounds like fun.”

The intercom spoke. “Phlox to Commander Tucker.”

He pushed the switch and replied, irately, “Yeah, I’m coming, Doc.”

“Along with anyone you have been in contact with since your return.”

Trip glanced at T’Pol. She listened more closely as Trip responded, “How come?”

“There’s a spore you’ve been infected with that will eventually cause something similar to a histamine reaction along with itchiness. Unless you wish extreme discomfort,” he replied, “you should report to decon as soon as possible.”

Trip groaned, and then mumbled to T’Pol, “Sorry.”

She understood that she would have to be in decon also and replied softly, “You need not apologize, Commander. You were not aware of a spore.”

He shrugged, and then said to Phlox, “T’Pol and I will be there in a minute. Tucker out.” He closed the channel before Phlox could ask any questions. He motioned to the door. “Looks like you’re stuck with me,” he noted.

She sat for a minute, and Trip didn’t know how she did it but she managed to find a good side to all this. “If decon is necessary, then perhaps I will not need to visit Sickbay.”

Underneath it, Trip got her message. She won’t have to wait on Phlox’s test results and she can spend more time helping in the search for the captain.

“Good.” Trip opened the door and she stood and walked out besides him towards the decon chamber. He almost swore she glowered as she passed him, but he doubted it was because they had a share a decon session. He kept the pace behind her and silently wondered if she was a bit mad at him for losing the captain.

He shook it off just as quickly as he’d thought about it. T’Pol put the blame where it justly went. She had heard the others throw in their testimony; she knew that the captain was with Hoshi when he vanished. There was no sign of him on the planet. But right now, there were more pressing issues at hand. Such as getting rid of this spore before it drove him nuts.

He pressed the keypad and ushered T’Pol in. The normal lights shut off and switched to ultraviolet as Phlox approached the window with Malcolm and Hoshi next to him. The two humans were somewhat smiling as Phlox ordered, “I’ve loaded the appropriate gel into compartment A.”

“You mean we gotta strip?”

Hoshi spoke up. “Sorry, sir. The spore was in the atmosphere and got all over us when the rain started.”

Trip stared in disbelief. He raised his eyebrows, and then lowered them as Malcolm shrugged and sighed as if he would have preferred to be in decon with T’Pol. Trip couldn’t help but try to hide a tiny smile. On what they thought was their last journey on Shuttlepod One a while back, Malcolm admitted he liked T’Pol. Or at least her bum.

He groaned and turned around to a locker. Hoshi and Malcolm stepped away but before they left, Malcolm hit the intercom and said, “If you like, I’ll begin long range scans for the captain.”

“What are the chances of finding a human on long range scans?” Trip asked, unzipping his top.

“Considering that there aren’t many floating around out there, chances are rather good,” Reed observed, then left with Hoshi towards the bridge. Phlox smiled as pleasantly as the circumstances would allow, then slid the metal door shut.

Trip got his uniform off and threw it in the locker. He unbuttoned his shirt as T’Pol went into the chamber and unstowed the curtain from its hiding place. Trip sighed. “Well, least I thought it a good idea to put that in.”

“Indeed.” T’Pol waited for him to finish undressing, and then as he slammed his door, they traded places. Trip stood behind the curtain as T’Pol stripped out of her clothes and hung them in a locker. She opened the compartment and gathered the decon gel. She closed the door behind her and handed Tucker one of the containers. He took it, whisked it open quickly, and began spreading the gel.

T’Pol cleared her voice. “Do you believe the captain was led into a trap?”

“I don’t know.” Trip put the gel on his arms and rubbed it in, down to his wrists and the undersides of his arms. “I have no idea where he is, T’Pol. And it’s scarin’ me. Usually, there’s something.”

T’Pol considered this, and then replied, “Then perhaps a detailed analysis of the surface will reveal something. My back.”

Trip rolled his eyes and pulled the curtain back. T’Pol had pulled up the back of her undershirt. He scooped some of the gel from the container and spread it around her back. As he did so, she murmured, “It is possible that the captain has traveled through time? I believe when we were faced with the situation with the Suliban the captain seemed to be transported when he time traveled.”

“Thought Vulcans didn’t believe in time travel,” Trip retorted.

She turned her head around towards his face. Inches apart, she replied, “They don’t.” She turned back around. “I merely suggested it, hoping that it would stimulate a memory in your mind.”

“Well, I’m not remembering anything,” he replied, wiping the rest of the gel around the lower part of her back. He moaned. “I just -- it doesn’t seem right, him just disappearing like this. And that darned ship comin’ too. This day can’t get any worse. And don’t you dare say it can.”

She lowered her shirt. “I cannot. I have not seen the sensor readings for quite some time.”

Trip thought about telling her she just made a joke, purely to rethink it in that she might argue it wasn’t a joke. He turned and T’Pol, in turn, dispersed the gel over his back. She spoke up again. “Are you still having trouble sleeping?”

He turned for a second, and then looked forward. “Yeah, a bit.” He looked down and stifled a moan.

T’Pol seemed to sense it, for she stopped briefly. “I apologize.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s okay. It’s just – I’m still a bit upset about my sister.”

“I understand.”

Trip raised his eyebrows, and then turned around. “I’m sure.” T’Pol’s look convinced him contrary. “Oh, you’re serious. What do you mean?”

She stepped back. “My uncle was in an accident when I was a child. We were close, and for many years I laid the blame for his death on Sepal, a friend of the family. When I became an adolescent,” she said, looking down at her feet, “I was presented with the opportunity to take revenge.”

“What happened?” Trip pondered.

She paused, and then looked back at him. “I could not bring myself to kill him. The anger had long since dissipated, and my knowledge and abilities were needed for other vital things.” She motioned to his back, and he pivoted back around.

“You think I’m obsessed with finding the Xindi for revenge?” he asked in a statement.

T’Pol bent to spread the goop to the lower back and to his legs. “I wasn’t implying that. All I am implying is that putting your hatred into your work will help ease it, along with neuro-pressure.”

“Yeah, that really is helping,” Trip noted. “Would you mind?” he asked, pointing around to his back. “I know we don’t have an appointment till tonight, but . . .”

She gestured to the bench and he scooted over the containers to allow them both to sit down. She put her fingers over his upper back and found -- oh, what was it, the fifth vertebrae, three inches off center? He didn’t really care where it was. As she pressed on the spot, he gasped in relief. She pushed harder until it calmed him. He sighed heavily in satisfaction. “Oh, yeah. Way better than a hypospray. Or Phlox’s leech things. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She rose and screwed the caps back on the silver containers, made her way back to the compartments, and inserted them back inside. She tapped the intercom. “T’Pol to Dr. Phlox. Commander Tucker and I are finished with decon.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” came Phlox’s cheery reply. As he consulted whatever he was looking at, Trip came over and opened a locker. He pulled out a towel and rubbed his hair as Phlox slid the metal slat open. “You’re both clear.” He smiled, and then turned his attention to disposing of the gel.


Chapter 3

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