A to Z – the final blogging frontier…
Captain’s Log: April 6, 2016
These are the fan fiction voyages of the starship Enterprise (NX-01), the first Warp Five capable Terran craft. Humans are now able to explore strange new worlds, seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go….
Still nothing new on the timeline program glitch. This story takes place in April, 2151; about sixteen hours prior to the ceremony preceding Enteprise’s launch.
I don’t own Enterprise or her crew. No monetary profit is gained from these stories. I just want to share my passion for these characters and their world.
Today, we’re in orbit above San Francisco, as Enterprise prepares for launch three weeks ahead of schedule, and where a newly assigned and somewhat disoriented Vulcan Science Officer is receiving something less than a receptive welcome – particularly from the Chief Engineer.
If you enjoy today’s story, and want more, click on the title, and find a new frontier!
T’Pol stepped from Captain Archer’s office into chaos. Humans moved frenetically about the Bridge, amid shouting, clanging, irrelevant fragments of conversation about what they’d been doing when called to duty prematurely. Perhaps she should expect nothing else, on a ship commanded by a Terran who had openly professed a desire to “knock her on her ass.” She was still uncertain of the precise meaning of the colloquialism, but there was no doubt that it had been hostile.
The sharp whine of overloaded circuitry came from her left, accompanied by an acrid scent, and the five Terrans installing a diagnostic table leapt away from it. As though able to sense the problem through walls and doors, Commander Tucker burst from the passageway behind her. “Move it or lose it,” he said, and pushed past her, his scent and energy disturbing the calm she was attempting to regain after his closeness in the Ready Room.
“Damn it, you people trying to burn the ship down before she even launches? And in front of our chaperone?” He went to the wall and pressed a button, and a chemical mist emerged from the ceiling. “I made sure the fire suppression system was up even before life support. Did all the work in an EV suit. There was a reason for that – anything else fries, I want you all to use it, or you’ve got no business wearing that red stripe or the uniform it’s on.” With the emergency abated, he turned to T’Pol. “Suppose you’ll be tellin’ old Soval all about this little mishap.”
“I simply wish to assume my station.” She wouldn’t allow him to know that his presence affected her. Certainly not while she was on duty.
“Well, assume away, then.” He gestured to the station nearest the lift doors. “It’s all yours, Sub-Commander.”
T’Pol walked up to the console he indicated, unwilling to admit that she hadn’t known where she was stationed. She’d expected to be given a debriefing prior to reporting to the Bridge, but that hadn’t happened, and Captain Archer had given no indication that it would.
Behind her, Commander Tucker spoke loudly, “Attention, all hands.” The activity ceased immediately; perhaps there was a degree of discipline here that hadn’t evidenced itself until now. “We’re all supposed to show our Vulcan chaperone here, Sub-Commander -” he paused, then added, “I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”
“Cap’n’s orders are that Sub-Commander T’Pol here is to be extended every courtesy. I know none of us are too busy to drop anything we happen to be doing any time she’s got a question, so it shouldn’t be a problem, right?” He stepped up to the console beside her and said, “May I please be excused, ma’am? I’d like to get that viewing table up and running before we launch, and it might help if I stop by the Engine Room and wave at folks – but, of course, if you need someone to hold your chair for you -”
“I require nothing of you, Commander.” She thought there must be some significance to the words he emphasized, but she was uncertain what it was, and, as it seemed irrelevant to her duty, she didn’t ask.
“Common courtesy is to thank someone when they offer you their help, T’Pol. And to accept handshakes. And to call people by the names they want to be called.”
Commander Tucker was angry with her. T’Pol didn’t understand the reasons for this; logically, that should also be irrelevant. T’Pol suppressed the uneasy sensation in her digestive tract. She would meditate at the earliest opportunity; she would repress her responses then.
He hovered there beside her; apparently, she must give him some reply.
“I’ll try to remember that,” she said, and turned to examine the science station.
For even more treats, visit other blogs on the #atozchallenge roster. There is a huge diversity to choose from, and I think that’s something T’Pol would find most agreeable, indeed.