Chapter 13 - Ancestry

Trip gets to fix a ship – again, while Archer and Shran learn more about the face-lifted Vulcans. Admiral Gardner suffers from double vision.

After the blood and gore of the last chapter, things get a bit more domestic in this one.

=/\=

Nobody said anything – basically because nobody knew what to say. Trip was sure that he probably did quite a good fish impression, staring open-mouthed at his son.

My son, he reminded himself mentally, before he noticed that everyone was staring at either Lorian or T'Pol, waiting for someone to say something.

"Dock your boat, son," Trip said, when he noticed that T'Pol appeared to be shell-shocked.

He went over to her and put his hand on her back. In every normal situation she would probably protest such thing during duty hours, but this was not a normal situation. Trip was convinced that the last thing she needed were rumors of the captain doing a 'deer-in-headlights' on the bridge.

"Let's go," he whispered and without any acknowledgement, she followed him into the turbo-lift.

"You have the bridge, Commander," Malcolm quipped in a mixture of bemusement and surprise, when the two were gone.

=/\=

"How you're holding up?" Archer asked, walking with Shran and the MACO detachment towards the Gateway, where a shuttle pod was waiting for them just outside the boundaries of the natural dampening field.

"What do you mean?"

"The heat," Archer explained. "It's hard for us. It must be hell for an Andorian out here."

Looking over to Shran, Archer saw him open the zipper of his uniform a bit to point at a metallic looking undergarment.

"Cooling suit," Shran explained.

Wanting to know why that worked in this disabling environment, Archer started to ask, but caught himself.

"Let me guess," he said with a hint of sarcasm. "It's specifically designed to work in the Forge?"

"Yes; it's made of two layers of metal, separated by an organic catalyst layer. A slow endothermic reaction cools the body down."

Archer grinned and shook his head. Everything on Andoria seemed to be designed specifically to fight Vulcans.

"Considering how quickly we disposed of over 20 Vulcans, or whatever they were, I'm surprised that Andoria never invaded Vulcan."

"We would have occupied the Forge in a matter of days. A Vulcan with a lirpa has no chance against a skilled warrior with an Ushaan-tor."

"I've seen that," Archer said with an appreciative nod, remembering how quickly Shran had felled two of the attackers with his ice mining tool.

"But as soon as their precious technology works, they are superior. No matter how much the Imperial Guard would like to make it look otherwise – technologically Andoria doesn't stand a chance against Vulcan."

"Yet you developed enough technology, specifically to kill them," Archer said and shook his head slightly.

"Else they would have conquered us," Shran said defensibly. "I've heard you talking with the Corporal yesterday, about the surgery those Vulcans had."

"Yeah, what of it?" Archer asked.

"There are old myths on Andoria - myths about deformed Vulcans, bringing death and destruction, riding on the back of giant birds. Maybe those deformed Vulcans exist after all."

Archer was stunned – could it be...?

"We once ran into a Romulan mine field," he said with a hint of shock in his voice. "Their ships look like giant birds of prey."

=/\=

If possible, Trip would have shoved the airlock open with his bare hands. Somehow the few minutes that it took to dock the two Enterprise's seemed to expand to endless hours. When the doors finally slid open and the haggard frame of Lorian came into view, he pounced and grabbed him in a bear-hug.

"Damn son, it's so good to see you alive," he babbled misty-eyed. "Normally you would have deserved a slap in the face, for shooting your old man, but I couldn't do that, you know. Hell you ..."

"Trip!" These were the first words from T'Pol since she had seen Lorian.

"Sorry," he said and released Lorian from his clutches, realizing what a ridiculous scene he must have made.

Silently he watched the reunion of T'Pol and their unlikely offspring.

"Mother, it is good to see you again."

"I am pleased to see you alive."

The area before the airlock fell silent and Trip watched Lorian simply holding T'Pol's hands in his.

"Is she...?" T'Pol asked silently.

"My mother died in the battle with the Kovalaans. Her quarters suffered a direct hit."

"I grieve with thee."

"My science officer, Yuichi Sato believes that her death enabled our existence in this time line."

"Trip does believe so as well."

"Son, what can we do for your crew?" Trip interrupted. "Do you need Phlox or an engineering team?"

"We suffered several casualties and as you can see the ship is in bad condition, especially the engine. Most of my crew has suffered from malnutrition for some days. We are grateful for any help you can give."

"Send your crew to our mess hall, I will inform Chef about the added meals necessary," T'Pol said. "How many crew members are on your ship?"

"Only 55," Lorian said and the sadness in his voice sent a shiver down Trip's spine. "We lost almost 50 people since we last saw each other."

"We could get the second galley going as well," Trip said. "Perhaps your cook can come over here and prepare some meals for the races we don't know."

He saw the nod of Lorian, before the tired looking son of his, went back to his ship to inform the crew.

=/\=

"Welcome back, Captains."

"Thanks, Barring," Archer said. "Anything happened, while we were on the surface?"

"Not much; The High Council contacted us and they asked that you contact them, once you're back."

"Ok, I'll call them, but first I need a long, hot shower – I've got half of the damn Forge on my uniform."

=/\=

Trip had a sense of déjà-vu. Had it really been just over a year ago, since he was working on the injectors with a son by his side, who was three times his age? T'Pol will probably meditate the whole night over this, he thought.

"Son," he said with a sigh and shook his head in frustration. "Forget it, this engine is toast."

"I was afraid, you'd say that," he answered and Trip was still not completely used to see a scowl on the face of someone, who looked Vulcan; at least mostly. The rounded eyebrows looked distinctly human, but the ears were hard to miss.

"So, what happened the last year," Trip asked and motioned Lorian to sit down with him on one of the tool boxes standing around. "The Xindi said you guys were all over the place."

"The Kovaalans were not merely upset about trespassing. They consider the corridor a place where their deities reside."

"And we desecrated the place by blasting right through it."

"Indeed. They kept chasing us all over the Expanse. We were able to hide in nebulae several times, but never long enough to finish all critical repairs, let alone having any chance to replenish our supplies."

"Dammit, why didn't you try to reach Earth? You must have noticed that the anomalies went away."

"We noticed that, but Earth was still off-limits. There are too many stretches of space between here and Earth that have no nebulae or other natural phenomena to hide in. Our engine is a century old and in disrepair. We had to take it offline every second day at least to cool down."

"So you would've been on the run all your life, if we hadn't come back." Trip said and the relief about having found them grew even bigger.

"I knew you would come back," Lorian said. "I've seen it in your eyes. You gained new hope to have a life with mother when we met the first time. You would try to find out what happened to us, when we didn't follow through the corridor."

"First Erika, now you, is everybody able to read my mind?" Trip asked, amazed about Lorian's spot-on analysis.

"I don't know, who Erika is, but I don't need to read your mind; you're my father."

Trip remained silent as he contemplated Lorian's words.

"Must be strange," he said after a while. "Losing your parents and suddenly meeting them again, younger than you've ever seen them."

"I've learned to suspend logic for many aspects of our very existence. It had been easier for me, since I had known you in my life time. Other crew members met their great grandparents. They had a much bigger leap of logic to overcome."

"That's for sure," Trip said. "Anyways, since we can't do much here, why don't you go for a rest and meet us for dinner in the evening. Hoshi and Malcolm will be there, too."

"I shall look after my crew members, and will meet you in the evening."

"Brilliant," Trip beamed. "1900 in T'Pol's quarters. I suppose you know the way."

Trip grinned at Lorian's raised brow.

"Like mother, like son," he said and left engineering after giving Lorian a pat on the shoulder.

=/\=

"I have them," he heard the young Ensign at the com station say and John started walking towards the ready room.

"Patch it through, Ensign."

Arriving at his place in the ready room and punching the monitor button, Jon was surprised to see Minister T'Pau's face instead of Minister Kuvak, who had briefed him on the mission.

"Captain Archer, it is agreeable to see you again."

"Nice to see you, too, Minister," he answered, still not quite sure why she had accepted the call.

"Minister Kuvak is with me in this room, but I wanted to hear about the mission first hand."

Jon wasn't sure, why she had so astutely guessed his thoughts, but he tried to keep his confusion well hidden.

"Was the mission successful?" T'Pau asked.

"It was, Minister," he answered with a tired nod. "Nineteen fugitives have been eliminated; two took their own lives to avoid capture."

"And former Administrator V'Las…?"

"I eliminated him personally. The fugitives have been buried on site, the human casualties have been returned to Columbia."

"We grieve with thee. How many casualties did you suffer?"

"Two; One was killed in an ambush attack, another in the final confrontation with V'Las and his remaining followers."

"Please forward the identities of the fallen. We wish to commend them on behalf of all of Vulcan. You all have done an invaluable Service to our people."

"As you wish, Minister," Jon answered before his face turned into a small scowl. "We were honored to help, but with all due respect, we hope that the High Council will not make it a habit of calling Starfleet in, whenever there's a dirty job to do."

"Of course not," T'Pau answered with a nod that looked almost submissive to Jon. "It is exceedingly rare that executions become necessary on Vulcan. It is only due to the exceedingly precarious situation on Vulcan, that we were forced to put the burden on our allies. Such instances will surely never arise again."

"That's good to hear, Minister," Jon said. "There's something else. We noticed some irregularities with the fugitives..." He was cut off by T'Pau's raised hand.

"Captain, we are aware of possible... irregularities."

"And you didn't think it would be prudent to tell us about it?" Jon asked with a slight irritation seeping into his voice.

"I did not think it would be important for this mission."

"Do you allow me to speak freely, Minister?" Jon asked, now sporting a prominent scowl.

"Of course."

"It took me years to learn to trust Vulcans and a major obstacle along this path was that your people never gave us any information beyond what you thought was the absolute minimum, necessary to get the job done. I understand your need for secrecy when it comes to private details. I had Surak's katra with me long enough to understand that, but when you ask us to go on a mission that can get people killed, it is patently illogical to send us out without all available information."

"No offence meant," he added after a while, when he saw T'Pau's raised eyebrow. Instead of a rebuttal, he got a completely unexpected reply.

"There is no offence, where none is taken. Minister Kuvak confronted me with the same logic today," she explained with a nod to the Minister, who sat out of viewing range. "Now that we are working to build up a formal Coalition, we shall take this logic under advice."

"That's very good to hear, Minister."

Jon saw his statement answered by an affirmative nod, before T'Pau came to the next question.

"Is Commander Shran unharmed?"

"He is perfectly fine. He was a big help and actually commanded the mission. But it's Captain Shran now. He became a member of Starfleet two days before we started the mission."

Jon watched her reaction and he couldn't suppress a grin, seeing how T'Pau struggled to keep her cute pout from turning into a Vulcan almost-smile. Since when do I think of Vulcans as cute? He thought.

"It appears, Captain, that once again Humanity is one step ahead of us," she said and Jon thought he heard an undercurrent of approval in her voice. "While we are still trying to agree on basic terms of a Coalition, Starfleet has already 3 races in its service and it is logical to assume that it soon will be four."

Jon's grin widened.

"Why do I think, you didn't just guess that? We're building a whole lot of ships and we cannot keep up recruiting enough people, especially helmsmen. The Tellarites have several helmsmen waiting for a good posting, so some of them might be Earth-bound."

Taking the clue on ship building, T'Pau continued.

"When you return to Earth, please forward to Admiral Gardner our offer that Starfleet may make use of two or three space-docks at the T'Kuth shipyards as a sign of our gratitude."

Jon thought he might just as well look like Phlox now, as his grin grew wider still.

"You find this amusing, Captain?"

"Sort of, Minister. I just came to realize that three of our ships are built in the solar system, two in a shipyard near Tellar, two at Azati Prime in Xindi space and now Vulcan offers help as well. So, while the politicians still bicker over minute details, we're practicing the Coalition out here all the time already."

"Indeed," T'Pau answered with a raised eyebrow.

While Jon was still shaking his head in amused disbelief, T'Pau presented another point of discussion.

"Captain, there are two final things to discuss, both of personal nature."

Jon nodded.

"Starfleet asked me to inform you that your mate, Captain Hernandez, has regained partial use of her eyes and that a full recovery of her vision is expected."

Jon choked up and quickly turned his head away in an attempt to hide his emotional display from T'Pau. After regaining some modicum of composure he turned back to the screen, but before he could utter an apology, he saw T'Pau's slow nod, which he interpreted as a silent sign of understanding, remembering from the time with Surak's spirit rattling around in his skull, what powerful emotions Vulcans associated with their mates.

"Thank you Minister, that's just the good news I needed."

"I believe Admiral Gardner thought so as well, since he did not wait for your return."

Only now Jon noticed that Minister Kuvak had joined T'Pau in the visual range of the terminal.

"Minister Kuvak," he greeted; his voice still thick with emotion.

"Captain Archer," Kuvak returned. "I, too have a personal matter to discuss with you. Word has gotten to us that the Vahklas is returning to Vulcan."

"The Vulcans without Logic," Jon said as an indication of his remembering.

"My son Kov is on that ship and since it would be difficult for him to reintegrate into Vulcan society, he indicated in his latest transmission that he would consider entry into Human service an agreeable prospect."

"I will recommend him," Jon agreed. "My Chief Engineer, Commander Tucker, spoke very highly of him."

"I find this agreeable," Kuvak answered.

"That brings up a request of mine, however," Jon said and his face went back to a very disapproving scowl. He could see that they tried to hide it, but Jon noticed the minuscule signs of confusion on the Vulcans' faces, concerning his sudden change in expression.

"Minister T'Pau, I understand you cured T'Pol's Pa'nar syndrome?"

"Yes."

"There is a crew member on that ship. His name is Tolaris. He gave it to her... by force."

Wouldn't it be such a serious moment, Jon would have laughed about the visual struggle of the two Vulcan's on the screen. While Minister Kuvak somehow managed to keep up an appearance of control, the much less experienced T'Pau displayed an open expression of naked shock. The last Vulcan he had seen in such an open state of terror had been T'Pol, when he had staged the biggest comeback since Lazarus in the altered 1940's time line.

"She was violated," T'Pau half stated, half asked.

"T'Pol was reluctant to provide any details," Jon explained. "But how I understand it, she was a willing participant at first, but when she asked him to stop, he forced himself upon her. T'Pol ended up in sickbay and when I confronted him, he assaulted me. I had no other chance than to administer collective punishment and sent them away, despite unfinished repairs to their ship. I thought you knew that already from your mind meld with T'Pol?"

"I only melded with T'Pol to cure her Pa'nar syndrome; I did not access her memories any more than necessary."

"The crime was committed aboard Enterprise and T'Pol was assigned to Starfleet Command at the time, so legally, the whole incident falls under Earth jurisdiction. If you take him into custody and extradite him to Earth, he will get a fair trial."

"That would be an agreeable solution," T'Pau answered with a nod.

"We will need your permission for Doctor Phlox to reveal details about Vulcan mind-melds," Jon said. "He has worked many years on Vulcan and we need those information to put Tolaris's actions into a legal frame that fits into human laws."

"Our permission will be given, once the criminal is delivered into Earth custody," T'Pau explained.

"Thank you, Minister. It was a pleasure seeing you again," he said with a nod.

"As it was to see you," she answered. "Live long and prosper."

"Peace and long life," Jon replied before the screen went black.

Still seated, contemplating the talk with T'Pau and Kuvak, Jon was startled by the door chime.

"Come."

Jon mustered Shran as he entered the ready room. His face was now clean and blue again and he was back in his not-quite-standard dark Starfleet uniform. He noticed the bulging side pocket of Shran's uniform.

"That better be Ale," he said and pointed at the pocket.

"What did you think?" Shran answered with a return question and held up the bottle. "Bad news?"

"No, good news; Erika can see again," Jon said with a wide grin and indicated Shran to sit down.

=/\=

Lorian sat quietly at the table, between his father and Commander Malcolm Reed and mustered the assembly. Not only had he to adapt to seeing his parents again, but also to the fact that in this time line Hoshi Sato did not marry Major Hayes, but was in a relationship with Malcolm Reed, who had died as a lonesome bachelor on his ship, not too long after his father.

"Lorian, are you well?" The question of T'Pol startled him out of his thoughts.

"I am well, mother. I was merely distracted. It is a strange feeling seeing each one of you again as I also saw each one you die."

"I can see how that must be a bit weird," Malcolm added wistfully.

"The pleasure of having a second chance to meet all the people I grew up with offsets any awkwardness," he said while his father opened the door for the arriving steward.

=/\=

"Catfish," Hoshi said with a smile as she saw that all three males had the same dish. "Why am I not surprised?"

"That's one of the more human aspects of my character. Father and I share most preferences for food."

For the first time Hoshi saw the smile of Lorian that she had heard about all through the day. It was a nice sight, she decided.

"Well, son," Trip said and Hoshi watched him as he took 3 glasses from a cupboard. "I hope you share that particular preference."

Hoshi couldn't tell for sure, but she would have bet that the smirk and the raised eyebrow of Lorian were meant to ask 'Is the pope catholic?'

=/\=

"So, what are you going to do now?" Trip asked when they had finished their dishes. "You guys coming with us back to Earth?"

"It is the only logical option," Lorian answered. "Maybe Starfleet can provide us with a new ship or help us repair ours. Technically it is still Starfleet property."

"I thought after all these years, people would be eager to get dirt-side. Why do you want a new ship?" Trip asked - confusion visible in his face.

"Father, there is not a single crew member on my ship, who hasn't been born on it. Many cannot even imagine living on a planet. There are some, who wish to stay on Earth, but many want to stay in space. It's the only life they've ever known."

"Figures," Malcolm agreed with a nod. "I was in your armory today. Considering that this ship is almost 120 years old, I'd say it is in surprisingly good condition."

"If you ignore the paint job and the fried engine," Trip said. "But I think if they strip her to the skeleton, slap in a new engine and rebuild the outer hull, she should be good as new in about 4 to 6 months."

"What are they doing?" Hoshi asked and pointed to three people in EV suits, working on the outer hull of Lorian's Enterprise, which was clearly visible through the view-port.

Trip smiled as he was the only one besides Lorian, who knew the answer.

"They are updating the markings on the hull. Now that we return to Earth it would be impractical to have two ships designated as NX-01 Enterprise," Lorian explained.

"You're renaming your ship?" Malcolm asked. "Shouldn't it be us, who rename the ship? You've had that name for over a century."

"Your crew has an emotional attachment to the name," Lorian said and shook his head. "Mine hasn't. Once all original crew except Mother was gone, people stopped using the name over the years."

"What did they call her?" Hoshi asked.

"Home."

The room fell silent as everyone realized, what the battered, century old ship outside meant to Lorian's crew.

"Don't worry," Trip said and put a supporting hand on Lorian's shoulder. I'll make sure that Gardner gets her repaired. Hell, he'll probably be happy to add a tenth ship to the fleet."

Lorian nodded.

"So they're painting a giant HOME on the hull?" Malcolm asked and pointed in the direction of the view-port.

"No," Lorian said. "My crew decided to designate her NX-00 Colander."

Trip laughed out loud as Malcolm ejected the latest swig of beer through his nose and started coughing and laughing simultaneously.

"Their sense of humor is... unique," T'Pol said with a raised giggle-brow.

=/\=

Jon and Shran entered Starfleet Medical for the briefing about the genetic examination of the samples they had brought back from Vulcan. Jon stopped dead in his tracks.

"What's he doing there?" he asked angrily.

"Calm down, Jon," Gardner said. "We need him. Doctor McKay, would you?"

"When we examined the samples, we found nothing but Vulcan DNA with a slight deviation in the appearance sequences. We extrapolated this phantom image."

Jon inspected the 3D image of a Vulcan head, which showed two prominent ridges on the forehead. They formed a V, just as the young MACO had described on Vulcan.

"They do exist..." Shran said in a dark voice.

"That's when I was contacted," Arik Soong interrupted. "My colleague's work is commendable, but he hasn't got my experience of reading genetic sequences."

"Which of course you made available all out of charity," Jon spat sarcastically.

"Jon," Gardner hissed and he understood that the Admiral would not tolerate a bitching match, so he forced back his anger, despite Soong's arrogant attitude.

"I admit that the promise of certain privileges made it easier to acquiesce," Song said. "But I digress, please have a look. On first glance this is indeed Vulcan DNA, but there are more subtle differences to the DNA of contemporary Vulcans."

"Contemporary Vulcans?" Jon asked. "You mean to say these are not Vulcans but they share a common ancestry?"

"Very perceptive Captain," Soong said with a grin and Jon knew it was as fake as that of a Klingon.

"These two sequences differ from those of a contemporary Vulcan. They influence the pulmonary tissue and these sequences influence the skeleton. The changes indicate that these Vulcans have adapted to a thicker atmosphere and a lower gravity."

"How long would it take evolution to make these changes?" Jon asked.

"Difficult to say, Captain; I would say between 1.500 and 5.000 years."

"Those, who march beneath the raptor's wing..." Jon muttered as he put the final pieces of the puzzle together.

"Jon?" Gardner asked.

"Admiral, when I had those visions of Surak, he spoke about those, who walk beneath the raptor's wing. They were Vulcans, who left their home-world 2.000 years ago. Raptor is another word for Bird Of Prey. Shran says, there are myths on Andoria about deformed Vulcans, who bring destruction on the back of giant birds."

"So you think those fugitives on Vulcan evolved from Vulcans, who left 2.000 years ago," Gardner said.

"More than that Admiral! We've met two species, whose ships look like giant bird of prey – the Klingons and the Romulans. The Klingons don't look anything like a Vulcan and we've never seen a Romulan. They only spoke to us through audio-only connections, because they probably don't want us to see them."

"You say Romulans evolved from Vulcans?" Gardner asked and Jon saw the naked shock on the Admirals face. Even Soong had the decency to look unsettled.

"It all makes sense, Admiral. They left after they devastated their own home-world in a nuclear war. One of the little information we have on them is, that they're a warrior race. Their ships look like raptors and Vulcans call them 'those who walk beneath the raptors wing', and they try to hide their appearance from us. It must be the Romulans!"

"None of this must ever leave the room!" Gardner said. "If anybody gets wind of that, we can shoot this whole coalition idea right to hell!"

"I agree, Admiral," Jon said, but before he could continue, he was interrupted by a com chime.

=/\=

"Gardner here."

"Admiral, we've been contacted by Jupiter station. They're registering two approaching Xindi ships."

"Aquatics?" Gardner asked back.

"Yes, and they've picked up the signature of Enterprise, too... um, twice, Sir."

"I'll be damned," Gardner said. "Contact Command, I need a shuttle to Jupiter station immediately."

Four hours later...

Gardner stood in front of the huge panorama view-port in the Starfleet office on Jupiter Station. Transfixed he watched the scene unfold before his eyes. Two gigantic Xindi ships approached on impulse power and released two Starfleet ships from their cavernous cargo holds.

"I can't believe they survived," Jon muttered in the background.

"I never thought they'd really find them," Gardner added. "It's a sight to behold."

One ship was easily identifiable as Enterprise and the other, although essentially the same ship, just 117 years older, bore little resemblance. The hull was littered with breaches of various sizes, scorch marks were visible on those areas of the hull, which hadn't breached yet. This was a ship that had spent decades fighting for survival.

A chirp came from the com-panel.

"Gardner."

"Admiral we're being hailed."

"Patch it through."

"This is Captain Lorian of the NX-00 Colander. Request permission to dock."

Gardner and Archer looked at each other dumbfounded for a moment, before both started to laugh.

"Granted... Collander," Gardner managed, before plopping into his chair, while another guffaw rattled him.

 

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