There Are No Shadows In the Dark

There Are No Shadows in the Dark

By: vero3110

Rating: G
Genre: Trip/T'Pol Romance, Action (a little bit)
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Enterprise and associated characters are the property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright infringement. This story is for entertainment purposes only.
Summary: This story is supposed to take place a couple of days after Elizabeth’s service. What happened with the Terra Prime investigations? What were their findings? What did appear when they threw some light on it?
Author's note: I want to thank Distracted for her superb betaing: “Millones de gracias” as we say around here. I’ve been working in this story for a while. It is supposed to be the first in a series of episodes that would end at the beginning of the Romulan War. Vero.

Part I

I.-
The shuttlepod landed about 50 meters away from Orpheus – Paxton’s mining colony. Travis kept looking at the facility even after they touched down on the dusty surface. Its design had something different about it that he couldn’t pinpoint. Paxton’s father must have had an amazing engineering background to build a warp capable mining facility all those years ago, he thought. He wondered how long it would take to gather enough evidence to put Paxton and the other Terra Primers in jail for good.

He got distracted when Commander Rossi asked him if he had seen something like this before. “No, not really,” Travis answered, while still looking at the embedded nacelles of Paxton’s creation. “Have you, Commander?” he returned, looking at Rossi, who was sitting next to Lieutenant Reed.

Rossi studied Travis as the helmsman admired the mining facility, and thought to himself that the ensign was intuitively identifying the alien design that was incorporated in it. He looked out through the shuttlepod viewport and said, “No…the closest thing I’ve seen was an old oil rigging platform that houses a museum now.”

His o’s sound strange. Where’s his accent from? I must ask Hoshi, Malcolm thought. He was staring at them while they chatted and admired the building. He wasn’t comfortable with Rossi. The guy was always observing everything and everyone, asking questions, making notes on his pad. Quite thorough actually, he thought to himself. Well, the chap is a Starfleet Intelligence officer, was his next thought.

The beeping that signaled that the door could be opened, took everybody out of their musings and they prepared to leave the shuttle.

“I’ll be back with the shuttle at the end of the day, Commander... Lieutenant,” Travis nodded at each of them in turn as they stood up. Malcolm nodded acknowledging Travis’ statement.

Commander Rossi smiled at the helmsman politely, “There is no need to return for me, Ensign. I’m staying for the night.”

”Sir?” asked Malcolm in puzzlement.

“I want to see how it was for these people to sleep, cook, eat…everyday tasks while staying here, Lieutenant,” Rossi told Reed. Malcolm nodded, still looking at the intelligence officer with a perplexed expression. “We’ll meet up with you later, Ensign,” he told Travis with his eyes still fixed on the commander.

While walking towards Terra Prime’s facility, Malcolm wondered if there was something there that had been missed. Perhaps Rossi thought there was.

“What do you intend to find, Commander?” he asked, his voice distorted by the breathing mask he wore.

Rossi turned to look at him and tripped over some rocks. “Mierda,” he said while getting his footing again. He looked thoughtfully at his feet for a moment before speaking. “Do you have books at your quarters, pictures, personal items, Lieutenant?” the Intelligence officer asked him. He didn’t wait for Malcolm’s answer. “What do you think these things would say about you?” was his next question.

“I believe the crew quarters were searched and everything found was tagged and recorded,” Malcolm told him, a little bit confused.

“That’s right…” Rossi told him. “But I still want to check it out myself.” The Commander smiled and entered the code to open the mining’s colony outer door.

____

II.-

Trip studied himself in his bathroom mirror. No dark circles today, he thought. He scratched his chin. The stubble there was itching. I should have shaved.

He felt better, still sad but better. The sensation of having been living in a movie was gone, mostly, but everything else was much the same.

He stared at his reflection. It was his face in the mirror, but the person looking back at him was not the same person as the one who’d stared back at him from the mirror last week, or even twenty four hours ago. The events that had happened since had changed his life. Were they for good or for ill? He had no way of knowing.

What am I gonna do? he asked himself. He knew what his choices were. He could refuse to change. He could try to put everything back the way he thought it was supposed to be... the status quo... the comfortable sameness of the way things had always been. Or he could mourn his losses and move on, only he wasn’t even certain at this point exactly what he’d lost... or perhaps gained. He could go with the flow and accept what life offered, despite the fact that the prospect terrified him more than anything. Maybe it’s for the best, he mused. He was deep in thought when he heard the captain’s voice calling for him.

“Trip here, Cap’n,” he answered.

Archer’s voice was curt. “I know you’re off duty, but I need you in my ready room ASAP.”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes, Cap’n.”

“Good, Archer out.”

On his way to the bridge, Trip thought about changes, and how he had always adapted to them. Not much of a life time planner, but a year to year basic kinda guy, I guess, he told himself ruefully.You do what you think is best, and sometimes when that’s not enough, you do what you have to, he thought. When he got to the bridge, Malcolm, Travis and Hoshi weren’t there. He was saluted by one of the new ensigns who was acting as Communications Officer. “They’re waiting for you, sir,” Trip heard him say.

“Who?” asked Trip, a little confused.

“The Captain, Dr. Phlox and Commander T’Pol, sir,” he answered. Trip nodded at him, his eyebrows still raised, and walked towards the ready room.

“Sorry I’m late, Cap’n,” he said apologetically as soon as he entered.

“Don’t worry Trip, T’Pol just got here too,” Archer said.

“Take a seat, Commander,” Phlox invited. Trip took the seat next to T’Pol. She looked drawn and tired. He turned and smiled hesitantly at her. “Mornin’,” he told her. She just nodded back at him with a stoic expression.

“Last night, Starfleet Intelligence accessed part of the records from the Terra Prime genetics lab…” Archer said. Phlox’s expression was somber, not a sight that Trip enjoyed. “The investigation indicates that genetic material from every member of the senior staff was stolen before we left on our way to the Expanse,” he said.

“Do we know how this was possible?” asked T’Pol.

“Unfortunately not. The investigation is still in progress regarding this issue. Hoshi is working with the investigating team to decrypt the data. There’re some advances but it’s going to take some time,” said Archer. He doesn’t sound optimistic, she thought.

“Has the remaining genetic material been located?” was her next question.

“Not yet. The records that were accessed didn’t contain that information, but we do know that it was cryogenically stored after finishing the last cloning process. It seems that Susan Khouri may have destroyed it just before getting to us,” answered Archer.

“How do we know for certain that all the senior staff was involved, then?” she inquired again.

“They tested all of us for compatibility,” said Phlox.

“All of us?” asked Trip.

“Let me explain, Commanders, and then I’ll answer your questions,” Phlox told them grimly.

“Sorry, Doc…I...never mind. Go ahead,” Trip blurted out. T’Pol just nodded, her expression unchanged.

They looked as opposite as two people could be. She was composed and unmoved. He was confused and agitated. But inside they weren’t all that different. Both of them were worried about the effect this news would have on the other, and on them together.

“The compatibility tests were designed to simplify the biochemistry issues involved in the cloning process. I’m not going into details here, but you can access these records in our database if you’re interested,” Phlox said, looking at T’Pol. She nodded in agreement. Then he addressed Trip. “The results indicated that you, Commander, were the human male with better biochemical compatibility with T’Pol’s. Even better than my biochemical compatibility level with Hoshi,” Phlox added.

“You mean… it was luck that we ended being Elizabeth’s parents?” asked Trip.

“I wouldn’t call it luck, Commander,” Phlox answered grimly.

Trip looked back at him, and then his eyes went to the floor. He shook his head. “Go on, Doctor,” he said wryly.

“The captain mentioned a last cloning process,” said T’Pol, a question implied by her tone. Phlox had seen her expression before, one night while having tea at her quarters surrounded by debris from Azati Prime. She’d looked younger, vulnerable, just like she looked right now.

“That is correct, Commander. It took them time to obtain the results they expected. They recorded the results of 5 attempts of binary cloning processes during a 6 month period. The first four attempts failed, but the last one produced 3 cloned embryos.” Phlox stopped and waited for the information to sink in.

Archer’s expression was dark and pained. Trip closed his eyes and covered them with his right hand before turning and looking at T’Pol. Her eyes betrayed her, and he knew she was as affected as he was. Still looking at her, with a slow and steady voice Trip asked, “What happened to…the others?”

“None of them survived, Commander. One of them was not viable so it wasn’t carried to term and the other one died during the first trimester of the gestational period.” Trip was stunned, and turned to look at Phlox. He was speechless. T’Pol couldn’t talk either; she knew her voice would crack.

“Only Elizabeth survived, Trip,” Archer said.

Survived? She didn’t survive, Trip’s mind returned. He looked back at Archer as his face turned red in rage. “I don’t…how could…I should have beaten the crap out of Paxton!” The anger in Trip’s voice was evident to everybody in the room.

“Maybe you should have, Commander,” said Phlox.

Trip and T’Pol were both looking at the stars through the viewport. They stood unmoving and in silence for a whole minute before T’Pol’s voice brought both of them back to the Captain’s ready room.

“Have the facilities where these procedures were carried out been located?” she asked.

“We believe so. The team found a medical facility, fully equipped for genetic manipulation procedures, located in the second subterranean level of the mining complex. There’s a team of Starfleet Intelligence officers and scientists searching the place as we speak,” said Archer.

“There’s no certainty that the genetic material and the non viable embryo were destroyed, then?” T’Pol added.

“No, but the investigation indicates that the genetic experimentation wasn’t approved by Terra Prime’s operatives on Earth. It was Paxton’s personal endeavor. So we believe there was only one laboratory,” Archer explained.

“Captain, I would like to join the investigation party at the laboratory,” T’Pol said.

“That won’t be possible…” Archer was saying while Trip interrupted him.

“Captain, come on…”

Archer stopped him with a raised hand. “I’m sorry Trip. I know…” He paused at Trip’s outraged expression, and then sighed. “No, I don’t know how you feel. But Phlox is going to join the team shortly. He and Malcolm will keep us updated on an hourly basis – if necessary – while the investigation takes place,” Archer’s words were final.

Trip’s eyes were fixed on Archer – his anger clear in them. He knew the captain well enough to realize that his mind was set in this issue. Arguing would be useless. The last four years had given him enough experience to learn when to shut up and how to pick which battles to fight. This one undoubtly would be a lost cause. Trip nodded and lowered his eyes.

“There’s something else,” said Phlox. All of them turned to look at him. “I told you, Commander, that there was a flaw in the cloning process, but I was incorrect,” Phlox told Trip.

“What do you mean?” Trip asked, sadness evident on his face.

“The information I have reviewed indicates that the binary cloning process was designed to produce embryos with a defect in their immunological system that would cause death of the child during the first year. This indicates deep knowledge of both Vulcan and Human immunological systems, and extremely advanced genetic manipulation techniques,” Phlox clarified.

“She never had a chance, did she?” Trip said more to himself than to the doctor.

“I’m afraid not,” said Phlox.

T’Pol looked at Trip, and then she turned to Phlox. “Do we know how Paxton’s scientists learned these extremely advanced genetic techniques you mentioned?” she asked.

Archer shook his head. “We have no idea, and Paxton isn’t telling us anything,” he was saying when the communications system sounded.

“Reed to Dr. Phlox.” There was some static around Malcolm’s voice but nobody doubted it was the lieutenant.

“Malcolm, how’s everything going down there? Any news?” Archer interrupted Phlox before he could answer.

“No sir. But I haven’t spoken to Hoshi yet.” There was a pause until Malcolm continued. “Captain? I was looking for Dr. Phlox.”

“Lieutenant, I’m right here. What can I do for you?” Phlox said through the intercom.

“Commander Rossi asked if you could review some medical … you earlier,” Malcolm’s voice wasn’t clear enough because of the static.

“Sorry, Malcolm. We didn’t hear the last part clearly. Can you repeat?” Archer said.

“Medical records, sir. The Commander sent some medical records the team found and wants Phlox to review them ASAP. Actually, Doctor, the team here already gave their interpretation but…well, sir; I recommended a second opinion.“ This time his voice sounded as clearly as if he were at his station on the bridge.

“Please tell the Commander that I’m on my way to Sickbay and I’ll send my report as soon as I finish it,” Phlox said while standing up.

“I’m sorry, Commanders, Captain, but I have to leave. Lieutenant Reed and Commander Rossi are waiting for me,” Phlox said while moving towards the door. Archer gave him a brief nod of dismissal as he left.

“Commander Rossi?” Trip asked.

Archer took a pad from the table in front of him and gave it to T’Pol. “It contains the last reports from the teams that have been searching the mining colony,” he said. “Starfleet Intelligence assigned one of their officers as a liaison between us and their teams. His file is on the pad, too,” Archer continued. T’Pol switched the pad on and started screening its content.

“Why is Starfleet Intelligence leading this Investigation and not Starfleet Security?” asked Trip.

“I’ll get to that, Trip…Malcolm is there anything else we can do for you?” Archer asked.

“No sir. Reed out.”

Archer noted that the noise over the comm disappeared just as, at the corner of his eye, the comm system’s light went off. He was looking at Trip and T’Pol. They were both seated in front of him next to each other. He had been studying them most of the time since they arrived. Trip looked exhausted. Probably hadn’t slept much lately, he thought. And T’Pol, she was paler than usual and there was something about her that wasn’t quite right…and then he noticed it. Her shoulders were sagging a little; her posture mimicked Trip’s.

“Commander Rossi is an expert in xenophobia and sects. That’s why he was assigned to this investigation….,” Archer continued. Trip’s eyes narrowed. ”Since when does Starfleet have behavioral scientists as officers?” he asked.

At that moment, T’Pol looked at him and said, “Since the Xindi attack, apparently.”

“You know him?” Archer asked him. Trip shook his head and then looked at T’Pol. She had been reading Rossi’s file. That’s why Trip knew about his background.

Archer, confused, looked at both of them and kept going. “Starfleet believes that Paxton had access to alien medical and technical aid…Let me finish, Trip,” he told him while Tucker was about to speak again. “The mining colony has embedded circular nacelles that were updated 2 years ago. We didn’t develop those upgrades…” At this point Archer massaged his eyebrows and forehead. He hadn’t slept more than 2 hours the night before, and he needed more coffee, but he had to tell them everything. “Earth geneticists never had access to decoded Vulcan DNA. We don’t know how Paxton got it.” Tiredness showed on Archer’s face more than ever. He was looking at T’Pol, who was still reading the pad, her face hidden from both Archer and Trip. She gave the pad to Trip and looked at the captain.

“That is correct. The Vulcan Science Directorate decided not to share that knowledge with Earth scientists after first contact was made. Your regulations against genetic manipulation prevented it.”

Trip was looking at her while he said, “You mean that some aliens helped them?...It doesn’t make any sense. Why would someone willingly aid people that would most certainly turn against them? ” At this point he stopped and looked at Archer. “We don’t have a clue who these aliens are, do we?”

Archer shook his head. “The investigation team believes that Paxton didn’t know it was alien technology. He got it through a third party who hasn’t been identified yet.”

The monitor beeped and the captain turned to look at it. While entering a couple of commands he continued. “Admiral Gardner informed me that Starfleet Intelligence would be leading the investigation when I got back from the memorial.”

Trip was looking at him while he spoke, but not really seeing him. He sensed T’Pol’s concern and how much effort it was taking her to keep her Vulcan composure. He turned to look at her while the captain kept talking.

“Ambassador Soval offered assistance to Starfleet Command, so one of your surveillance and intelligence vessels left from Vulcan last night,” Archer said to T’Pol. “They will be helping us identify the alien technology from Paxton’s facility, and as soon as we decode all their genetic research logs will try to help us identify the DNA decoding process and its origin.”

Her expression changed subtly, but both men recognized what it was: surprise. Vulcans rarely offered free assistance, and rarely intervened in a situation like this one.

“Is this assistance common knowledge at Starfleet?” she asked the captain. Archer smiled at her before answering. “Actually, it isn’t,” he told them. “You do know your people, T’Pol…Why would they want to help us on the condition that their help be unacknowledged for what it really is?”

T’Pol looked at the captain and then at Trip with both of her eyebrows raised. She wasn’t certain of the reasons behind the Vulcan government’s offer of assistance.

“Come on. Just tell us what you think…an educated guess, as the captain likes to say,” Trip reassuringly told her.

T’Pol turned to Archer. “With what official mission will the Vulcan ship be assigned while orbiting Mars?” she asked.

“Upgrading and re-configuring the security protocols of the Verteron array,” Archer told her.

Her eyes turned to the viewport while she analyzed the information she had. While she did this, both Archer and Trip looked at her, waiting patiently. “Decoded Vulcan DNA is classified information…,” she told them. “Who ever had access to it must either be a high ranking officer of our government or must have been someone able to break the Vulcan Science Directorate security protocols,” she said. “I believe that the Vulcan Government doesn’t know which option is correct.”

“They want to keep it quiet until they know what’s going on for real…” Trip said, interrupting her. She nodded. Captain Archer wasn’t convinced. “Could be…but…” He shook his head. “We’ll have to speak with Soval,” he said. Both Trip and T’Pol nodded in agreement.

T’Pol felt some dizziness and she unfocused her eyes, trying to achieve a meditative state so she could calm herself. The white space wasn’t surrounding her, she was looking at the stars that looked like big snow flakes in her sight. The dizziness disappeared and she noticed some hunger. Her need to meditate took precedence, though. She decided not to have breakfast today so she could go back to meditate as soon as the meeting ended. Trips voice brought her back to the ready room.

“So, how long are we gonna stay here, Cap’n?” asked Trip curiously. Archer shrugged.

“I’ve got no idea, Trip. It’s up to the bigwigs at Starfleet at this point,” he said helplessly. He grinned wryly. “Wanna go get coffee? I need an energy boost.”

“You comin’, T’Pol?” asked Trip. She blinked, and then turned her attention to the commander.

“I must meditate,” she told him under her breath. Their eyes met in silent understanding. She then turned her attention to Archer, and said in a louder tone, “If you will excuse me, Captain. I will retire to my quarters if there’s nothing else.”

“Go ahead, I’ll let you know as soon as I receive the next update on the investigation,” Archer told her.

“I would rather it be sent to my quarters, I wish to meditate as long as possible,” T’Pol said while standing up. Archer nodded. His eyes followed her thoughtfully as she left.

Trip kept staring at the door after T’Pol’s departure. He knew she wasn’t fine, but he wasn’t certain how to help her, or even if she’d let him. Would some company be helpful? Or maybe letting her meditate on her own would be best for her. They had never discussed how Vulcans mourned, not even when T’Les died. Maybe if I’m the one needing help…she’s always tried to help me before, he thought. When he turned to look at Archer, he noticed that the Captain had stood up and was looking at him.

“Coffee, remember?” Archer said.

“Yeah, I really need it... and I’m starving,” Trip said, smiling. “Captain, I’d like to take a look at the circular nacelles you mentioned before,” he said while moving towards the door.

Archer keyed the door open before answering. “Travis is reviewing the data that’s been collected. He’s at the Command Centre. I’m sure he’ll be glad to have your help.” Trip nodded gratefully, and they left the ready room on their way to the Mess Hall.

_____

III.-

The smell of the herbal tea he was sipping was spicy and velvety. It brought memories of crowded kitchens and long after-meals chats. Happy images flooded his mind: his wives and daughters, his mother and father, his sons. The boys seldom stayed for those long summer evenings, he remembered. The thoughts of family made him consider the commanders and how each of them was dealing with their loss. He was still saddened by the baby’s death and very much perturbed by the discovery of the genetic manipulation she was subjected to. This remembrance made him end his reverie and return to the data files he was reviewing. He hadn’t made much progress. There wasn’t any reference on these files about the source of the Vulcan genome. The only piece of information he was checking was a genetic procedure referenced in one of the files.

The sound of the door opening distracted him from his perusal of the Denobulan Medical Database. He raised his head to find the ship’s chief engineer standing there with a tired smile on his face.

“Commander, what can I do for you?” Phlox asked Trip.

“It’s my shoulder, Doc. You told me to come today for a check up, remember?” Trip told him while getting closer to him.

The Commander smells like coffee, the doctor thought. Phlox wondered how much Trip had drunk during the last three days.

“Yes, of course. Please sit on a biobed, and we’ll see if you can make do without that sling,” the doctor said while approaching Trip. The blue light of the device glowed close to Trip’s upper arm while Phlox scanned him, but Tucker wasn’t interested in the results it would produce. His eyes were fixed on the monitor Phlox had been checking when he arrived.

“Have you found anything, Doc?”

“Well, you’re healing nicely. I believe that you will recover full mobility in the next two to three days,” Phlox told him while reading the scan results.

“Wha?… I meant about the data you’re checking,” clarified Trip.

Phlox looked at him, and his expression sobered. “Unfortunately not, Commander. These files were very similar to the rest that have been decoded so far. The only new fact that I’m checking is a gene deactivation technique called “Khoi” that I’ve never heard of before.”

Trip nodded and massaged the back of his neck. His exhaustion showed plainly in his face and stance. “Have you been sleeping, Commander?” Phlox asked him, while changing the scanner settings and reading his vital signs.

“I’m fine, Doc,” Trip told him, turning to look at him with an attempt at a reassuring smile. Phlox gazed back at him reprovingly and shook his head.

“If you need someone to talk to, Commander, I will be happy to help you,” Phlox told him.

“I know, Doc. Thank you, but I’m…” Confusion was evident on his features. “It’s weird how I feel…sometimes it’s like not feeling at all, as if nothing had happened; and there are other times when I’m overwhelmed with everything.” He shook his head as if clearing his mind.

“Sleep and rest will help you, Commander. But you have to rest and stay out of engineering for a few days,” the doctor said. “Have you thought about taking some time off to visit Earth, your family maybe?”

Trip looked at his feet for a little while and then glanced back up at the doctor’s face. “Actually I have, but I don’t want to leave T’Pol alone…”

Phlox eyebrows rose a little. “I see. Have you spoken with her about your apprehension?” he asked Trip.

Trip’s head hung down while he shook it. “I’m not sure if I’d be bothering or helping her,” he mumbled. Phlox stood there looking at him without answering. “She’s been meditating most of the time.” Trip’s eyes were still fixed on the floor. Then his head came up. “Doc? Do you know how Vulcans mourn?” Trip asked.

“I have no idea, Commander. However, I believe you should interrupt T’Pol’s meditation to let her know that you are willing to stay with her if she agrees to it,” Phlox told him while turning off his scanner.

“Thank you, Doc” Trip said while standing up. “If you find anything in those files you’re checking…”

“Don’t worry Commander. I’ll inform you of my findings as soon as I finish my report,” Phlox told him.

He returned to the monitor and sent a communication to the Interplanetary Medical Interchange Program inquiring about the “Khoi” technique. The message icon changed to a red key to show it was encrypted and then a green arrow appeared on its side to indicate that it was sent. Since Phlox had arrived on Earth and started using human systems and technology, it had always surprised him how effectively they used symbols and images to communicate simple ideas. So much different from Denobula, he thought.

______

IV.-

The monitor caught his eye because of its color – graphite. The decor in almost every cabin they had visited thus far had been a dull brown-yellowish color. Malcolm thought it unconventional, beige rooms with no family pictures – only Earth views: landscapes, seascapes, snowed mountains, city views. Some of the rooms had books, mostly Terra Prime propaganda, and all of them had plants – common grass and clovers. There also were some cups and wood boxes here and there.

The schedule displayed at the monitor listed duty hours, meals, off time activities, training sessions, almost every minute of the day was programmed. He didn’t recognize the name of the employee. There was a small ideogram shown at the upper left corner of the table containing the data that probably was used as an ID of sorts.

The sound of Rossi’s steps moving toward the door got his attention, and he looked up from the icon he was studying. The door opened and Rossi moved out to the hallway. Malcolm left after him. He noticed the commander taking notes – again – without making any comments about them. “Have you found anything interesting, sir?” he asked him finally.

Rossi kept writing and asked him without looking up “What would you say about the people that lived here, Lieutenant?”

“Well, most of them seem to have no family or to be estranged from them... not many interests outside of mining and Terra Prime. Apparently eating is not allowed out of their mess hall, and many of them seem to like common plants…oh, and their schedule seems to change periodically,” he finished.

“You noticed their schedules too. Weird, don’t you think? How many times would the schedule change in a mine? Even if they worked on a rotating basis. Any idea what the icon could be used for, apart from personnel ID?” Rossi mused.

“No idea, sir. I’ll ask Ensign Sato to check them, if it’s all right with you,” Reed suggested.

“Who’s Ensign Sato?” Rossi asked.

“She is Enterprise’s Communications Officer, assigned to assist the investigating team. They’re decrypting files at the management center, two levels above us.”

Rossi nodded in agreement. He stood in the corridor looking straight ahead, his eyes narrowed, thinking. “Did you know that most of these people were recruited on Earth and brought to the Moon to be trained in mining? Their backgrounds cover almost every job you can think of: teachers, medics, clerks, farmers, chemists. There were only two of them that came from out of system colonies,“ Rossi said, while walking down the corridor. He turned to look at Reed, waiting for his comment.

“Sir?” Malcolm asked a little confused.

“Not much of a people person yourself, are you, Lieutenant?”

“Actually no, sir,” Malcolm said uncomfortably.

Rossi chuckled, amused by Malcolm’s discomfort. “Paxton knows his business, Lieutenant. He even used the quarter’s color schemes to influence them: brown and beige usually invoke images of nature, nests… home, Earth. He ran them as a cult would,” he said.

“You mean religiously?” Malcolm asked

“Not exactly. Cults usually appeal to people because they offer father figures and claim simple solutions for complex problems. These messiahs also call for commitment, sacrifice, and dedication to those in need. Paxton has been doing this for years, and he is a master of coercion.”

“Why is he surfacing now?” said Malcolm thoughtfully.

“We experienced a major social breakdown after the Xindi attack, and Earth’s society has been shaken up for at least 25 years, ever since interchange with other species started occurring on our own soil and not just through a few freighters that traveled for long periods of time and stayed for only brief periods on Earth,” Rossi told him.

“You mean we should have known something like this would happen eventually?” Malcolm’s tone was almost aggressive, which surprised both men.

“No, not at all. There’s something else that apparently we didn’t understand correctly: How the concepts of ‘us’ and ‘them’ have developed over these last decades. By ‘them’ I mean non-humans,” Rossi said. Malcolm stared back at him with an interested expression.

“Historically, when experiencing social changes that they believe threatening, humans tend to adopt xenophobic idealisms as a strategy for making the distinction between ‘us’ and ‘them’. That way they can manage both the complexity and anxiety of meeting cultural change,” Rossi explained.

“Do you believe Paxton knew all of this and exploited it for his benefit?”

“Probably. I think he identified similarities between Earth’s current situation and Colonel Green’s Earth and thought that he could make it work this time. We’ve identified Terra Prime operative cells at every major city. If he hadn’t gone into the open now, it could have been even worse. Their growth rate is considerable. Soon they probably would have infiltrated the government, if they haven’t by now,” Rossi concluded.

At Rossi’s last statement, Malcolm’s internal alerts sounded clearly in his mind. The security officer in him took control. “You believe Massaro wasn’t the only one, don’t you?”

Rossi’s guarded expression said it all. “I wouldn’t leave the system without investigating every member of your crew,” he advised Reed.

They arrived at the next crew quarters they were going to check: Paxton’s. When the doors opened, the décor coloring – dark blue and indigo – made Malcolm turn around and look, even at the ceiling.

“Nice, Lieutenant, don’t you think?” Rossi asked with a big smile on his face.

“Let me guess, sir. Blue and violet mean … Paxton is the one who makes the rules?” Malcolm said tentatively while he smiled as well.

“Close enough, Lieutenant,” replied Rossi while walking to the monitor and turning it on. When the image appeared, next to Paxton’s name was an icon, different from all the others they had seen until now.

Malcolm looked around, taking in the details now: no plants here, the pictures this time had people on them – very old pictures. Colonel Green, maybe? He walked to the closest one and studied it carefully. He didn’t recognize anyone in it, nor did he recognize the background.

Meanwhile, Rossi was looking at the books Paxton had kept in his room. Most of them were historical memoirs from Green’s era, except for two that looked quite old. He took “Treasure Island” and “Moby Dick” and opened them. Both were first editions from the 19th century. He took his pad and wrote down some notes. Malcolm watched him look, touch and write notes about every item that was on display. When he returned to the books and put them back in place he turned around, looking for Malcolm.

“I’m done here, Lieutenant. Let’s go. Do you know if there’s somewhere we can have some coffee?”

“There’s an improvised cafeteria in the second level,” Malcolm answered. Both men walked out of the room and down the corridor toward the elevator.

________

V.-

Her eyes were fixed on the pad lying in front of her. She had checked these numbers twice but still couldn’t figure them out. Usually she only resorted to studying the raw data as a last resort. Sometimes just looking at the figures would point her toward what was wrong or missing, but this time there was no pattern to follow. The steam coming up from her tea caught her eye. She took the mug with both hands and drank a bit. It was still too hot, she thought. The sound of the Mess Hall door opening startled her, and she turned around to see who was coming in. She smiled when she saw Malcolm walking toward her table.

Hoshi looked at the officer that walked next to Malcolm – a commander. She didn’t remember the guy. They hadn’t met before. The man was taller than Reed, had dark hair and was in his late thirties, she estimated. When they got closer she noticed that his hair was graying and his eyes were dark brown.

“Lieutenant. Commander,” she said, nodding.

“Ensign Hoshi Sato. Commander Lucas Rossi, Starfleet Intelligence,” Malcolm said in introduction.
Rossi extended his right hand while his inquisitive eyes were on her, taking everything in, estimating her age, noticing the tiny scars on her forehead, realizing how her expression changed as soon as she saw Reed.

“Ensign” he said in greeting as they shook hands. Hoshi smiled politely. His voice was nice. So was his handshake - firm, but not too forceful.

“Sir,” she replied.

“Any suggestions about what kind of coffee should we drink?” Rossi asked her while taking a look at the room they were in. She noted his accent immediately. His native tongue was Spanish but he didn’t sound like a Spaniard.

Malcolm shrugged. Hoshi elaborated with a smile. “I wouldn’t know, sir. I only drink tea, but I’m pretty sure there’s espresso, lattes and decaf. Not sure if cappuccinos are available,” she told him helpfully.

Rossi looked at the dispenser and walked towards it. He ordered a latte, no sugar and then asked Malcolm what he wanted. A tea drinker that notices details and a decaf extra sweet that doesn’t bother, he thought. This was typical of Rossi, always noticing these details. He would remember what everybody drank, and the next time they shared a break he would detect changes in behavior if any were present.

He came back to Hoshi’s table and gave Malcolm his coffee. He drank his and enjoyed the creamy taste. Hoshi noticed that he wore a simple gold wedding band on his left hand. “Were you living in South America when the Xindi attacked, sir?” she asked him.

Rossi looked at her, surprised. “No, I was stationed in Lisbon back then. Why do you ask?” his tone harsher than he intended

Lisbon? – Starfleet doesn’t have facilities in Portugal. Stationed? Who was he working for? Malcolm thought.

“It’s your accent, sir. I know your native tongue is Spanish, but you don’t sound like a Spaniard would, so I figured you must be from America,” she said, a little worried.

His eyes narrowed, as they had before. Would he take notes about this? Malcolm thought.

“Excuse me, sir, but there are no Starfleet bases in Portugal. Were you serving in another branch?” Malcolm couldn’t help it. He had to know.

Rossi looked at Malcolm without answering right away. His eyes went to the table and then back to Reed. “I worked for UE’s Intelligence Agency back then. I was recruited by Starfleet less than a month after the Xindi attack,” he told them. Malcolm’s expression hardened slightly. Hoshi’s face, on the other side, stayed unguarded.

“Can you determine which part of South America I’m from?” he asked Hoshi, changing the subject. He smiled at her.

“No. But if you speak in Spanish I can try,” she told him smugly.

The commander chuckled. “Well, Ensign, that’ll have to wait... as well as the detailed explanation about how you can do that. The Lieutenant has a task for you.”

Malcolm put down his coffee cup and fingered his pad to show Hoshi the icons they’d noticed in the crew quarters. “Can you look at these symbols, Hoshi? We think they may be ID icons, but we’re not sure.”

She took the pad from him, all business now that she had a puzzle to solve.

“The crew ID codes were identified on the first day of the investigation,” she said almost to herself as she paged through the data on the pad. “They’re thirteen-digit number strings... and if I can tie these icons to the codes it might help with the decryption keys I’ve been trying to generate...” She paused in her search and looked up with a sigh. “I’ll have to spend some time on this, but I’ve got ID codes and retinal scans on every crew member in the mining station. I know that the decryption keys for some of the vital files we haven’t accessed yet have to be related. Perhaps the icons are a link. Any little bit would help. I haven’t had any success so far. I’m going to check this out and let you know if we find anything,” she told them. Both of them nodded. She barely noticed it when they finished their coffees and left.

She took her pad and checked the data on the encryption key generation algorithms that she’d discovered last night. It still doesn’t make sense, she thought. Her hand moved to her cup, and she noticed that it had cooled down.

__________

VI.-

Captain Archer hadn’t realized he had dropped some coffee while reading the last update on repairs until he turned to grab a data disk. He cleaned the drops with his right hand – déjà vu – he thought. The image of his cup floating over his desk, surrounded by spilled coffee, was as clear as a high resolution photograph would be. It even looked cool. He sighed.

How long has it been? Archer remembered the damaged sphere and the ship that attacked them; He’d been searching for the Xindi, so focused he couldn’t remember what the rest of the crew did back then. Memories started coming back to him. Malcolm, he was with me at the airlock. Trip smacked down that Osaarian. That’s why we got him. Most of the details from their time in the Expanse were lost to him, but he did remember his own actions – all of them.

He knew they were in extreme circumstances. He’d had to do whatever it took to succeed in the mission, but still, it didn’t taste good, no matter how much rationalization he did to convince himself he’d done the best he could, not even if he became a cynic – the biggest one in the universe.

His eyes were fixed on the spot where the coffee drops had landed. His face, a mask, only showed his fatigue, concealing everything else he felt. He’d become a master at it, hiding himself behind his Starfleet officer’s armor. He thought about the Vulcans. Different objectives – similar techniques, was his conclusion. The smile on his face was out of place. He didn’t feel like laughing. He wasn’t happy at all, but it was kind of funny, anyway – him using Vulcan techniques to hide his emotional state.

Life is change. He remembered the phrase but couldn’t pinpoint its origin. Admiral Jonny Archer, was his next memory. He wished his father were still alive. He probably would understand that I’m not a hero, he thought.

Terra Prime and their actions hit Archer deeper than everybody thought. Regardless of the fact that he couldn’t understand what had made them act as they had, he couldn’t help but wonder how they’d gotten to where they were now. Had his actions – his father’s and his own – affected them in any way? His open-mindedness and eagerness to explore, to reach other worlds, to expand Earth’s knowledge and welfare were shared by many others, but he’d never stopped to think about the people that didn’t share them. Maybe nobody did, was his last thought before the com system sounded.

“Reed to Captain Archer.” Malcolm’s voice sounded muffled.

He must be outdoors, Archer concluded.

Jon was correct. Reed, in his zeal as Security Officer, had decided to communicate with his captain from outside the mining facility. Leaving Commander Rossi with the leader of the medical team surveying the genetic lab, his excuse not a lie, but not entirely truthful either, he’d told them he had to report back to Enterprise. He’d used the closest outer door to leave the building, and had walked 200 meters away from it, creating small clouds of reddish dust at every step, leaving clear boot marks along his path and exerting himself until his breathing was hard and difficult, even with his mask on. When he had regained a bearable breathing rhythm, he had activated his communicator, called the captain, and waited.

“Archer here, Lieutenant.” Archer didn’t know if Malcolm was alone or with Commander Rossi so he opted for a formal tone.

“Sir, can you order the Com Officer to patch us through a high security channel?”

This is weird. It should be an investigation status report, Archer thought. “Give me a minute, Lieutenant.”

Malcolm heard the silence coming from Enterprise that meant he was “on hold” while the security routings were being set. His mind had been evaluating every possible scenario he could think off since Rossi told him that there could be other Terra Primers infiltrating Enterprise and Starfleet. Every precaution isn’t enough. We have to make sure we’ll be safe while on missions. Well, as safe as we can be, he thought morosely.

“Go ahead. We’re good now.” He heard the captain loud and clear.

“I’ve reason to believe that a thorough crew background check is imperative, sir.” Malcolm sounded grave.

“What kind of reasons and what would we be looking for?” Jon asked, his expression darkening. He felt very protective of his crew. Everybody had been worthy of his trust, until Massaro.

“Sir, may I speak freely?”

Archer frowned – wrinkles formed around his eyes and between his eyebrows. This is strange. I can’t remember the last time he asked me this, he thought. “Of course, Malcolm.”

“I had a conversation with Commander Rossi about Terra Prime and its growth. He hinted that there might be Terra Prime operatives in Starfleet, in the government and even on Enterprise, sir.”

“Is this official?” Archer sounded surprised.

“I don’t believe so, sir. If it were, you would have known about this before I did,” Malcolm said.
Archer nodded thoughtfully.

“Can you elaborate, Malcolm?” Both of his hands went to his temples.

“No. He didn’t mention any details, sir.”

“But you believe him, don’t you?” asked Archer.

“We can’t afford not to, Sir. There’s too much risk involved. If it is true, we not only risk the crew, the ship and our missions, but sensitive information leaking to Terra Prime.” Reed’s voice mirrored Archer’s own thoughts.

When no answer came from the captain, Malcolm got impatient. He knew Archer and his decision making process, if the captain wasn’t convinced it wouldn’t matter what his opinion was. He clearly remembered how much he’d tried to convince him not to go into the Xindi weapon, and lately, it was Malcolm himself who should have been transported to the Klingon colony to look for Phlox. Unfortunately, Malcolm had been in no position to argue back then. He shook his head, trying to clear the disturbing memories. Luckily, the captain’s voice took him out of his reverie.

“When are you coming back to Enterprise?” Archer’s attenuated voice got to his ears through the breathing mask’s supports.

“This evening, sir.”

“Good. As soon as you get here, let me know so we can meet to start planning the background checks.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied, smiling. He was about to cut the transmission when Archer’s voice reached him again.

“Malcolm, can you contact Harris?”

“Sir?...”

“I’m not sure what I’m asking from you, Malcolm,” said Archer hesitantly, “...but we’ll need more information if there are Terra Primers in Starfleet.”

You do what you have to do, Malcolm, his father’s voice was clear in his mind. He remembered clearly the last time his father had told him this – their last argument regarding him not joining the Navy and leaving for San Francisco. Back then he’d thought his father was a cynic, tainting his dream – joining Starfleet – with such a gloomy premonition. Now, he had come to believe that it was his father’s own experience – decisions made, paths taken, regretful omissions – that were talking then. Maybe it was his way of giving me some advice, he thought. Right now, the older man wasn’t wrong after all. He supposed that his father had had good reasons for doing what he had to on his own time; just as he had now. At that moment he decided to call home as soon as a transmission could be set for him. It has been too long.

“I understand Sir, but there will be consequences I’m not certain you are aware of.” Malcolm’s voice was cold and matter-of-fact.

“We’ll deal with them, Malcolm,” Archer said reassuringly.

“Yes, sir,” Malcolm responded. He sighed. There was really nothing else he could say.

“Is there anything else, Lieutenant?”

“No, sir. Reed out.”

Archer’s eyes went back to the coffee stains that were still discernible on his desk. He took his coffee mug and drank from it until there was nothing left. We must be extremely careful if Rossi is right, he thought. He would make sure that his action’s influences on Terra Prime’s organization and its followers were clearly identified. This time he’d be certain of that. His train of thought was interrupted abruptly by the image of a Starfleet Command communication request on his display.

“Captain, Admiral Gardner requested to speak with you, sir,” the petty officer said by way of greeting.

“Put him through, Petty Officer,” Archer said while facing the screen.
_______
VII.-
Trip caught sight of Archer in the corridor of E-deck on his way to lunch. He hurried to catch up to the captain, who had just entered the Mess Hall.

Archer was engrossed in thought and didn’t hear Trip at first. The engineer touched his arm to get his attention. “Trip, sorry. I didn’t hear you.” Jon shook his head and then smiled, a little embarrassed. “What about lunch?” he asked Trip.

“Sure. Any news from the investigation team?” Tucker asked him, worried, while walking next to him.

“No, not yet. What about you and Travis?” Archer asked directing Trip’s attention to a safer subject, he thought.

“It’s weird, but I think the design they used for those upgrades is Vulcan,” Tucker told him, lowering his voice.

They both had arrived at the Captain’s mess hall door when Trip murmured his conclusion. Jon looked at the Chief Engineer with a knowing look and shook his head, signaling him not to talk until they were inside. “You knew about this?” Tucker asked Jon while waking towards his usual seat.

“No, but I spoke with Admiral Gardner a while ago and he informed me that Soval will be visiting Enterprise tomorrow. He wants to meet with you, T’Pol and myself. I was wondering what this was about. Now I have a theory,” he told him while arranging his napkin on his lap.

Trip looked at him with an expectant look on his face. When Archer didn’t elaborate he thought it unusual, not to mention the “don’t talk” signal. “What’s going on, Cap’n?” he asked.

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll let you know as soon as the next investigation report arrives,” Archer told him. Trip frowned, but let it go.

“What else did the Admiral say?” Trip asked, while grabbing a piece of bread and spreading some butter on it.

“We’re ordered to get Enterprise to Jupiter Station as soon as our cooperation with the investigating team ends,” Archer was telling him when he was interrupted by a crewman who handed him a menu.

“Any ideas how long the repairs will take?” Trip asked. No sooner had the words left his mouth when he realized that he should be telling the captain and not the other way around. He made a face and said, mortified, “I’ll head to engineering as soon as we finish dinner, Captain,”

Archer laughed, amused at Trip’s embarrassment, and tried to calm him a little. “It’s OK. You’re off duty, and we’re not just going for repairs. A new set of long range sensors are going to be installed…” He also took some bread then. “Vulcan design” he added.

Trip had just taken a bite and was still chewing – and almost choked – when he heard Jon’s announcement. His expressiveness had always amused Archer, so the captain smiled and kept talking. “As soon as you go back on duty, I’d like you, T’Pol and Malcolm to review the new sensor schematics and make a detailed analysis of changes and new parts before we get there.” He didn’t voice completely what was on his mind, keeping to himself the thorough inspection he would ask from Trip after the sensors were installed. If anything that shouldn’t be there is installed, we’re going to know about it, make sure it is monitored and that it only transmits whatever I decide, he thought, determined.

Trip heard the footsteps of the crewman bringing their lunches while he approached, so he waited until his dish was in front of him – as well as the Captain’s – before speaking again. “Don’t worry, Captain. I’ll supervise the repairs and the sensor’s installation, if that’s OK with you,” he said.

Archer smiled and picked up a knife to cut his steak. “There’s no need for you to do it all, Trip. I plan to authorize leave passes for every crew member that files a request, so if you want some time off, you’ll be cleared to enjoy it,” he said, taking a bite.

“Thanks, Cap’n. I’ll think about it,” Trip answered him.

Archer looked at him and smiled. “How’s your shoulder doing?” he asked him, noticing that he wasn’t wearing the sling anymore.

“Phlox checked me out this morning and says it’ll be fine in a couple of days. It’s still sore but feels fine most of the time.” Trip moved his left shoulder in a circular motion to show him it was indeed fine.

They finished their meals in silence, both of them engrossed in their thoughts. Trip was intrigued with those apparently Vulcan nacelles down on Mars and Archer was thinking about the implications of Rossi’s and Malcolm’s suspicions.

“Did the Admiral say anything about our next mission?” Trip asked suddenly while spooning up some pie.

Archer had been taciturn for most of the meal, and Trip thought it must be something the Admiral told him. The captain looked up from his fruit salad and faced Trip. “Actually he did. We’re going on a joint mission with Vulcans and Andorians. Remember the drones you and Malcolm were stranded in?” Trip nodded and looked at the Captain, freezing with his fork in mid air. “We’re going back there to collect any remains we might find.”

“Any idea why they’re sending us there?” Trip asked him back unenthusiastically. Archer shook his head and then added “I believe Soval might enlighten us about that.”

“How so?” Trip said with his mouth full of pie.

“I heard the Vulcans wanted to check some data they collected while we were searching for the drones but I guess they hadn’t been able to agree with the Andorians how to do this. They were the only ones who retrieved pieces of the drones. And, well, we were the only ones who got to board those ships, so I guess you and Malcolm will be doing some recollecting,” Archer said.

Trip was sucking his fork thoughtfully. “So we’ll be acting diplomats again, ah??” he said while wrinkling his nose as if something smelly was in front of him.

Archer couldn’t help it and he laughed at him. Sometimes Trip was so easy to read. “What?” Trip said, turning to face him. The captain shook his head, still laughing. “Black coffee for me and the commander,” he told the crew man who was taking the dishes back to the galley.

“Will we be leaving as soon as the repairs are done?” Trip asked the captain, back to business.

“It depends on Paxton’s trial and our depositions,” Archer said while thanking the crewman for the coffee with a smile and a nod.

“Mmh, do you think we’ll be needed to testify at the trial?” asked Trip while sipping his coffee.

“I hope not. Starfleet is negotiating for video testimony from Enterprise crew members to be allowed, if necessary,” Jon told him.

When he heard Paxton’s name, Trip’s anger resurfaced full force. He focused his eyes on the stars in the viewport in front of him, breathing deeply, trying to control himself. His thoughts went to T’Pol and he saw himself in the white space. The image came with a set of sensations he couldn’t identify clearly – it disappeared too quickly – except for numbness and hunger.

The captain said something he didn’t get while standing up.

“I’ve got to head back to my ready room and try to make sense of all this,” said Archer reluctantly.

Trip, still distracted by the images he assumed were coming from T’Pol, looked up at him and nodded. There was still some coffee on his cup so he showed it to Jon, who left him on his own. He looked at his cup and drank the remaining coffee. He stayed seated for a while wondering if he should interrupt T’Pol’s meditation. He didn’t want to distract her, but at the same time he wanted to see her so much, to hear her talk to him, touch her a little, just enough to make sure she was fine.

Well, she has to eat and I’m sure she’s hungry, was his last thought before leaving to get her lunch.

_______

VIII.-

The candle light flickered naturally, moving her shadow over the wall as if she were rocking back and forth, but she was not. She sat Indian style, unmoving, hands crossed at her lap, back straight, eyes closed. Even her breathing was hard to notice. She had been meditating for most of the day and her knees were numb from the lack of movement for such a long time.

The door chime brought her back immediately. “Come in” she said, and the door opened, letting Trip in. He closed the door after stepping in. The tray he was carrying reflected the candle’s flame, creating a slim, weak, yellowish ray. He sat across her low table and put the tray in front of her, moving the candle to one side.

He took his time to study her. She was still wearing her light blue suit. It looked a darker shade, almost teal under the candle light. He still liked it. Actually, it was the one which he liked the most. Does she know? Probably not, he thought. Her hair looked darker too – chocolate brown. She breathed deeply, inhaling the Plomeek broth’s smell. Nice ah? I like it too, the thought ran through his mind as if they were chatting. He was smiling tenderly while watching her, so when she looked back at him, he just told her.

“I felt your hunger…” he said with a low voice. Her eyebrows barely moved to acknowledge him, her eyes on his face. She didn’t look very much different than other days. Just tired, he thought. But he could feel her sadness and her concern.

She took the glass and felt its coldness on her fingers. The water had the slight metallic taste she had never gotten used to. Trip kept looking at her while she drank. “Have you eaten?” T’Pol asked him.

He nodded. “With the captain a while ago,” he told her while watching her spoon up some Plomeek broth.

He watched her eat in silence while noticing the small, light colored freckles on her chest and nose which you had to know were there to distinguish. Today he didn’t care if she noticed he was watching – or even if she called him out for staring at her.

Soon her meal was over and she looked up at him again. “You OK?” he asked her.

“I am fine.”

Trip smiled and shook his head with an unconvinced expression on his face. She took the tray and stood up, putting it on her desk. He walked closer to her, his eyes not leaving her face. “Is the meditation helping you?” She just looked at him without answering immediately.

“It is,” she said finally.

“I’ll let you go back to your meditation, then,” he told her, his voice warm while he leaned into her and kissed her cheek softly. The sensation of him this close took her by surprise and her hand went to his arm. He straightened up and looked at her.

I wish I could read your mind, Trip thought.

T’Pol took a deep breath and her hand fell to her side. He didn’t move back. Instead his arms opened and he smiled. Her eyes moistened. He touched her cheek with the back of his fingers and T’Pol gave in. She moved into his embrace, circling Trip with her arms. Trip hugged her back, one of his hands on her lower back and the other one around her neck. She felt his thumb’s soft touch behind her ear. The longing she had felt for Trip for some time was gone, as it always was the few times they had been together again.

The touch on his cheek was warm and soft – T’Pol’s hair. He liked holding her. Maybe too much, he thought. It didn’t happen very often, which he lamented deeply, he would have held her forever if she’d let him. She’d tell me that’s not logical or practical, he thought. He smiled a sad smile this time and got a little closer to her. He felt electric, didn’t want to let go and tightened his embrace. “I’m here for whatever you need,” he whispered at her ear.

“I know,” was her response.

“Why didn’t you call me earlier?” Trip asked while rubbing her back.

“You were occupied with Ensign Mayweather. It was only logical to let you finish your work. Actually, I would like you to tell me about what were you working on,” she told him.

He nodded, then his eyes narrowed “You should’ve called me anyway…,” he started, but she didn’t let him finish.

“You were engrossed and distracted by your activities,” he heard her say. His eyes closed and guilt washed through him. She knew he’d been enjoying himself checking those diagrams and tests. She moved back and looked at his face. “My meditation was productive and its effect is similar to the effect that work has on you.” One of her hands moved up to Trip’s face, to caress his cheek.

He leaned into her touch in silence for a while and then he spoke, “Should‘ve been here with you.”

“You are now,” she told him. He nodded. I’m staying as long as you let me, he thought. Both her eyebrows rose while looking at him and Trip felt something like a warm, soft breeze in his mind. His presence was comforting to her, soothing. Must be this bond of ours.

“Have you been sleeping enough?” she asked him, changing the subject and his mind’s focus as well.

He shrugged, “Yeah, it’s not that bad, don’t worry.”

“I am not worried,” she clarified.

“Course not. Sorry,” she heard him say, his wide, tender smile contagious. She suppressed a smile in return, grateful that this time she succeeded.

“What about you?”

“I have been meditating, mostly. I do not need as much sleep as you do,” she told him before he could interrupt her.

Trip raised his right hand to touch her face again, tracing the slightly darkened underside of her eyes with his thumb. He didn’t say anything to her, it wasn’t necessary. Concern showed all over his features.

Her lips had always been a temptation for him – soft and warm – but this time, he believed that they were softer that ever. He kissed her upper lip, tugging softly, slowly, almost reverently. His chest felt as if it were opening, he never wanted to let go of her. Let me help you, sweetie. Just let me stay here if that helps you, he pleaded in his thoughts. T’Pol kissing him back made him smile into their kiss. He loved being kissed by her and she knew it. His thumb never stopped caressing under her jaw line until they separated, Trip’s eyes on hers, hers on his lips.

“Will you be able to meditate if I stay here with you?” Her eyes went to his and she nodded slightly. He thought she would move away but instead she got closer, leaned her head on his shoulder and hugged him again. He enjoyed the closeness and waited, caressing her back with slow tender strokes. For as long as she’d let him hold her – help her, just be with her – he would stay, Trip thought. His eyes fell on her meditation candle, tossed to the farthest side of the low table, burning in the middle of a puddle of melted wax, still flickering and creating weird shadows on the wall at his back. This time, it was their embraced image that was the one rocking with the rhythm of the flame.
________
IX.-
Travis sat in front of the captain, so he had a panoramic view of Mars. He had only had breakfast with Archer a couple of times before, during their first year in space. Back then it was a social event, designed to help the captain relate to and get to know his crew. Travis was certain that Archer knew every one of them, the good as well as the bad in each of them. Their time serving together and the Xindi made that possible. So the order to have breakfast together – in his ready room and not the mess hall – was odd.

“What do you think about the mining facility’s design, Travis? I read your report,” Archer said, while grabbing a piece of toast.

“It’s all there, sir. I don’t have anything new. Should I…?” Mayweather answered anxiously.

Archer lifted his hand to stop him. “Your report was very thorough, but I want to know if you’ve seen anything like this before. You’ve more experience than anyone on board with non-Starfleet vessels,” Archer told him calmly.

The helmsman relaxed visibly in his seat. “I’m not sure. Every time I’ve piloted close to it I just can’t stop looking at those nacelles. They look familiar, but I can’t remember from where.” Travis remembered the conclusions that he and Commander Tucker had come to before he’d left him at noon the day before. They’d been pretty sure it was a Vulcan design. It was poorly built, though. The alloy used didn’t comply with Vulcan standards, which caused hull integrity to be critical during the short trip from the Moon, but it was quite efficient. Its consumption was 27% lower than an equivalent configuration of twin nacelles.

“Did you notice they used valves similar to ours on their intermix ratio controls, sir? We couldn’t figure out if they had access to NX’s valves design, or if it was by coincidence that our valves are similar to theirs. Do you know if we’re using Vulcan valves, sir?” the ensign asked.

Archer looked at him thoughtfully. Could Starfleet be using Vulcan designs? His pride said not a chance, but it was possible. He shook his head. “My gut says no, but I really don’t know, Travis. I’m certain every piece of this ship was built on Earth. Trip probably knows.”

“He wasn’t certain either, sir. We discussed it yesterday. Actually we filed an inquiry in the Starfleet Engineering Database with no results.”

“That’s weird,” Archer said.

“We were pretty surprised too, sir,” Travis said with a worried face. “There’s something else, sir. The alloy they used, it’s pretty common and not very expensive, but it’s unreliable. I guess they got it through the black market.”

“Why would you say that?”

“The nacelles on the facility were a surprise to all of us, including Starfleet, weren’t they?”

Archer nodded.

“It’s not produced on Earth. It doesn’t comply with our standards. My dad used it for temporary repairs when there wasn’t much time or funds. He always got it from aliens, most of the time from Rigellians,” Travis said while drinking his coffee.

“If they had bought it legally, the purchase would have gone through some kind of government control and we would have known, wouldn’t we? I mean, Starfleet was monitoring them,” he continued while Archer watched him intently.

“Is it used for anything else?” Archer asked, thinking that it might have been disguised as something they’d bought for the mining business.

“No idea, sir. But among the Boomers it’s pretty common knowledge that it’s no good for lasting construction. I can’t figure out why Paxton used it,” he continued.

“Did Trip know that this alloy is unreliable?”

“Not right away, but he knew it didn’t comply with Starfleet standards as soon as he saw its metallurgical specs,” said Travis.

Archer smiled before going on. “He is our Chief and it’d be within his rights to reject any alloy that didn’t comply with Starfleet specs. I guess Paxton didn’t have any Boomers or competent spaceflight trained engineers aboard.”

Travis looked at the captain and smiled back. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, sir. Paxton did need help with the Verteron array, so maybe they lacked good engineers.”

Archer nodded, his hand around his coffee mug. “Anything we can use from that Vulcan design?” he asked. He had read the report from top to bottom, even though it was directed to Starfleet intelligence, but there were at least two figures in there that should have made Trip’s mouth water. Strangely, there was no reference to further study on any of them.

Travis looked at him and nodded, his eyes sparkling in interest. “Well, yes, sir. Did you notice they needed a smaller reactor to reach Warp than a twin nacelles configuration would?” he said eagerly.

Archer hadn’t seen Travis this enthusiastic in a while. Maybe he should be down in engineering with Trip, he thought. “I did. Why didn’t you detail it on the report sent to Starfleet Intel?”

“Actually, we did, but Commander Rossi asked us to focus on the facts related to the investigation and told us that he’ll let us know if we can pass the information to R&D, sir,” Mayweather said.

“Good,” the captain told him.

Their breakfast was almost over and Archer realized that he had never asked Travis about his plans, his future. “Have you thought about your future, Ensign?”

Travis remembered the offer of a teaching position at Starfleet Training he’d received while in San Francisco. It was interesting and he could be close to Gannet, but would he be able to settle on Earth? Would he be missing space travel day after day? He wasn’t sure.

“I haven’t made up my mind yet, sir” he said, anxiousness evident in his voice.

“About?” Archer asked.

“The training position Admiral Black offered me…”

The surprise reflected on Archer’s face was so evident that Travis had no doubt that the captain wasn’t aware of the offer he had received. He was about to speak again when the door chime sounded. Lieutenant Reed had arrived. He knew there was an update from Mars planned that morning so Malcolm must be early, as he consistently tended to be in these occasions. I guess I should talk with the captain later, he thought. When he realized that Enterprise’s pull on him was still strong the choice hadn’t been that hard, after all. He felt as if a big weight had been lifted from his back, but then he remembered that he should talk with Gannet too. Oh boy.

Travis smiled politely. “If you’ll excuse me, Captain, I’ll leave you two to your meeting.” He gave Archer a hopeful look. “I’d like to continue this another time, though... if that’s all right.”

Archer smiled and nodded.

Malcolm watched the ensign leave and was curious about why Travis would need to talk to the captain in private. Had he interrupted them? Was there something going on with Mayweather that he didn’t know? Would this have something to do with the crew background screenings he had planned last night? All of these questions were running through his mind when the captain offered him a seat and a cup of coffee. He hadn’t noticed the carafe sitting at the captain’s desk nor the extra cup next to it.

He heard the coffee pouring into his cup while admiring the view at Archer’s back. He was about to speak when the com system sounded, informing Archer that Ambassador Soval’s shuttle would be arriving in 83 minutes and that the Ambassador wished to meet him as soon as they docked with Enterprise.

Why is he coming here? Why now? Malcolm thought. Archer didn’t say anything about it. He just got back to business.

“So, Lieutenant. Tell me about your plans for the background checks on the crew,” he said.

_________

Part II

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