Now she had a reason to speak with Archer, though she resisted the urge to leave the bridge to do so. She tapped the communications console on the arm of the command chair.
“T’Pol to Captain Archer. We’ve found the Orions.”
Twelve
Friday, February 14, 2155
Enterprise NX‑01
IT WAS NOW FOUR DAYS since they had last met here, in the captain’s mess, for a much more intensely emotional exchange than they were having at present.
Today, however, all Trip wanted was to spend some informal downtime in the company of someone he’d counted as a friend for the past two decades. One last drink before marching into the abyss,he thought, trying to prepare himself for what lay ahead with a little gallows humor.
He hoisted a glass of whiskey poured from Jonathan Archer’s own personal stores. “So, you think this alliance is going to hold?”
Archer examined his glass. “We’d better hope so. There are thousands of planets within reach. We’ve got to start somewhere.”
“Who would’ve guessed: Vulcans and Andorians in the same bed.” He put his glass down on the table.
“The Tellarites were never big fans of the Andorians, either,” Archer said, nodding slightly.
They both sat in silence for a moment, as the light from the warp‑refracted stars skimmed by outside the room’s viewport. Despite his enjoyment of this rare, relaxed moment, some part of Trip still felt that they should discuss his “situation” further, even though they had both been strategizing and making contingency plans separately–and together–for much of the day already. Trip knew that the rest of the crew must have really begun to wonder exactly what was going on between him and the captain. They’d all have to be blinder than Theras if nobody’s noticed all these private meetings yet,he thought.
And there was probably nobody aboard Enterprisemore observant than T’Pol.
“This is a special bottle of whiskey,” Archer said, finally breaking the silence that had settled between them. He lifted the bottle again and refilled the bottom two centimeters or so of Trip’s glass. “Zefram Cochrane gave it to my father the day they broke ground at the warp five complex.” He poured himself more as well.
“And here we are,” Trip said, hoisting his glass, “toasting the future.”
Archer raised his drink as well. “May it bring safety from the Romulans, the rescue of the Aenar, the unlocking of the warp seven mystery, the successful launch of the Coalition of Planets…and your swift resurrection.”
They clinked their glasses together and sipped the amber liquid.
“Written your speech for the Coalition Compact ceremonies yet?” Trip asked, putting his glass down on the silver tabletop. “I heard that Starfleet Command decided to make you the show’s opening act.”
Archer nodded, frowning. “That was Admiral Gardner’s doing. I guess it proves he actually doeshave a sense of humor after all.”
“Or maybe he just wants to keep you from missing any of the pomp and circumstance,” Trip said, grinning over his glass. “He’s probably still afraid you’ll get sidetracked out here, chasing after those Orion slavers.”
“I still think we’ll catch up to them in plenty of time, Trip. We’ve only been on the trail for the past five days.”
“I know you will, Captain. So…how about that speech of yours?”
“I always crammed before exams,” Archer said, answering Trip’s grin with one of his own. “You know that. Besides, I’ve still got nearly three weeks left.”
Trip’s grin became a smirk. “Some things never change. It’s the biggest day of your life, and you’re going to wait until the night before.”
“The biggest day of ourlives,” Archer said, raising an eyebrow slightly.
“Well, it’s doubtful I’ll be there to see it,” Trip said. “You’ll have to make sure to get me a vid recording of it to watch later. And I’m sure it’ll show that youwere the man everyone there really came to see.”
Archer was about to respond when a loud boomreverberated through the ship and the deck rocked and shuddered beneath their chairs. Archer tipped back slightly in his seat, grabbing his glass to keep it from sliding off the table.
As the captain hurried over to the wall‑mounted com panel, Trip retrieved a padd from where he had left it on the tabletop and quickly studied the readout on its small display. Reed had carefully blocked certain frequencies from Hoshi’s station earlier that afternoon, and the padd was one of the few devices aboard now capable of receiving a particular prearranged set of signals.
“Archer to the bridge. What’s going on?”
T’Pol’s voice crackled over the speaker. “We’re under attack, sir. A small vessel.”
Archer looked to Trip, and the engineer held up the padd, nodding.
“Who are they?” Archer asked, speaking into the com panel. None of them actually knew the answer to that question, but with Trip’s confirmation just now, at least four members of the crew now clearly understood the purposeof the intruders.
“We don’t know yet,”T’Pol said.
Enterpriseshook again, and a high‑pitched, ululating klaxon sounded.
“Intruder alert,”T’Pol said, her voice rising slightly in pitch and urgency. “Unauthorized personnel on E deck, near the starboard docking bay.”
That’s convenient,Trip thought. We’re on E deck, too. Good thing I won’t have to keep my ride waiting while I’m in the turbolift.
Trip headed for the exit, but the captain put a restraining hand against his friend’s chest before he reached the door. “Whatever we do, we have to make it convincing. Malcolm’s already keeping security as busy as he can, but outside of this room, the ship’s computers will still record everything we do or say.”
“Agreed,” Trip said. “I think I’ve got the script memorized, Captain. And we’re both pretty good at improvising when we need to.”
They exited the room and ran down the corridor. Ten steps out of the room, Trip realized that neither of them had thought to grab a weapon. Although a couple of phase pistols probably would have made their play more convincing, it was too late to make a run for the armory now.
As they rounded a curve in the corridor, three tall aliens stepped out toward them.
They had most definitely notforgotten to bring their weapons.
“We’ve come for Shran and the Aenar!” the tallest alien snarled, his long dirty hair and gray‑green, chalky skin making him resemble a zombie extra from one of the twenty‑first‑century flatvid horror films Trip enjoyed. His two companions both appeared to have been cut from the same unsavory, not to mention hostile, cloth.
Trip held up the padd, a gesture that not only emphasized the fact that he was unarmed, but also allowed the intruders to see the padd’s display, if they looked closely enough. He hoped beyond hope that these were indeed the “pirates” that Section 31 had promised to send to help him fake his death. They certainly looked the part, particularly since they had a pair of what appeared to be energy rifles, as well as a pistol of some sort, trained directly at him and the captain.
If these guysaren’t from Harris’s outfit,Trip thought, then the captain and I are both in one hell of a lot of trouble.
The lead “pirate” peered at the padd, then nodded and pulled a device of his own from the sash around his waist. After the alien had depressed a few buttons, Trip heard a telltale beep from his own padd, which was evidently receiving signals from the intruder’s device.
“You must take us to them, or we’ll have no choice but to cause some damage,” said the leader as Trip checked the code his padd had received. It checked out. He gave Archer a subtle hand signal to apprise him of that fact.