Jupiter Aligns for Mars

Chapter Six: Wake Up Call

Focus: TnT, Cap’n Archer

Summary: Station life, Jon ends his pity party. Another of Asso’s relatives joins the team, it is apparent that he passed on his genetic friskiness.

Disclaimer (necessary): Star Trek: Enterprise and its characters are copyright CBS/Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended by the author of this story, which is solely for the purpose of entertainment and is not for profit.

Trip had known Jon Archer for many years, but he didn’t remember the last time he’d seen him so dispirited, from the pinnacle of success in space to banishment on the beach. Worse, he was having trouble finding a home for his dog.

Well Trip thought, at least if Jon did end up on the station, he could get away with a few extra unhealthy choices in his diet. Tonight would be no exception, mmmm prime rib. Trip had all but laughed out loud as a steward led the Commodore, T’Pol and him to a specially roped off area of the mess for dinner. Waiting at table were Malcolm, SCPO Litlitvinowitz and Dr. Lucas.

“Just didn’t make any sense to put in a captain’s mess, Commodore. So we didn’t. Even Chief Litlitvinowitz has finally gotten used to it, haven’t ya Chief.”

“It’s different Commander, but it works here; don’t think I’d do it on a starship.” They all sat after Jon motioned for T’Pol to take her place and they dug into the pre-placed salads.

After an appropriate delay, Trip watched Chef appear with a rolling cart and a steward. “Real beef Commodore,” he said as Chef opened the lid and the steward cleared their salad plates.

“Can I assume the Commodore’s tastes have not changed?” asked Chef.

Jon finally, visibly relaxed and nodded. Chef placed a medium rare, well marbled, two-inch portion on a plate. He then added some roasted red potatoes, Yorkshire puddings and asparagus. Another steward appeared bearing a wine service for Jon to sample. Trip finally lost it. “You gotta visit more often, Commodore. We don’t usually get fed this well.”

“Begging your pardon, Captain, it is indeed a pleasure to have the Commodore on board. Commander your tastes hardly require effort. And let us not discuss the legendary dietary habits of Commander Reed.” Malcolm snorted unable to argue.

T’Pol began. “Assuming the Commodore decides to remain, Commander Reed, where do you intend to quarter him?”

“Chief” began Malcolm, “What do you think about opening up level 10?”

Jon broke in. “The quarters I have are enormous. They’ll do fine.”

T’Pol continued. “No, Commodore, you are in temporary guest quarters without an office. Chief?”

“Ma’am we can create almost anything on 9,10,11,12 or 13. I just need a layout.”

Malcolm continued with a straight face, “Commodore, may I assume you haven't yet visited the Captain’s quarters?”

“Not yet, why?”

“Just wondering sir,” he said, suppressing a smile.

Jon looked at Trip who failed miserably at keeping the smile off his face. “Commodore, why don’t you join us after dinner?”

Jon was lost as he pondered what could be going on. “Sure. By the way, thanks for the map. What’s the number?”

T’Pol broke in. “8-33 Commodore. It is currently 1830 hours, would you join us at 2000 hours? Strictly informal.”

Trip met Jon at the door and motioned him inside. Upon gazing around the room he stopped Jon in his tracks. “Cap’n, I don’t think I can get used to Commodore and I won’t say Jon. Can I just go back to Cap’n?”

“Sure Trip, how did you rate these quarters?”

“I didn’t, T’Pol did.” As if on cue she appeared in a stunning tan/cream Vulcan robe. She glided across the room and welcomed Jon with a nod. “Follow me, Cap’n, I’ll give ya the nickel tour.”

Shortly they returned to the living room where T’Pol had seated herself on the couch leaving the overstuffed chair for Jon. Trip grabbed a bottle of bourbon and two glasses from the kitchenette. He carried T’Pol’s wineglass in his other hand. “Didn’t make any sense to rework the quarters Cap’n so we kept ‘em. I guess now we know how the other half lives.”

“These are impressive. But I sure don’t need anything near this. Besides are you sure I should stay here?”

T’Pol answered him. “I am not certain, Commodore. There are difficulties whether you do or do not. Regardless I believe you should have dedicated quarters here separate from the rest of the station personnel. My thought is to provide you with a formal office and conference room for your duties as de-facto Foreign Minister, and a suite which would allow you to treat with visitors informally.”

Trip jumped in unable to completely suppress a snicker, “Besides every time you stepped into the corridor on level 6 you’d scare hell out of some poor ensign.”

Jon finally started laughing, “Okay, I give in. Can I bring Porthos?”

T’Pol answered. “Yes Commodore, I would expect him to join you.”

“Oh, here.” He began to hand the invitation to Trip, instead he handed it to T’Pol. She read it and looked at Jon.

“This is most agreeable, Commodore. Have you set a date?” she asked, handing the invitation to Trip.

“No, it will probably be a short notice affair.”

Trip jumped up and went over to Jon hand extended. “Congratulations Cap’n.” Jon rose and the two old friends embraced. “Took ya long enough. Catch ‘er at a weak moment?”

“Very funny Trip.”

“I guess he’s gonna need bigger quarters, T’Pol.”

“Agreed, Adun. Commodore, where is Captain Hernandez?”

 “She is headed out to the former Expanse looking for the Illyrians. We are hoping they will accept our apologies.” His head drooped.

“You did what ya had to do, Cap’n. Their system would’ve been toast too. Probably the only one’s who’d have been happy if we failed were those Triannons. Changin’ the subject, you okay movin’ out here?”

“Sure Trip, I’m just not convinced I need to be here. T’Pol, what is your logic?”

“Commodore, I...” Jon cut her off.

“T’Pol, please call me Jon unless you can pronounce Cap’n.” Jon smiled as T’Pol rolled her eyes.

“Very well, we have the security breach. We are uncertain of its extent, but are confident we can control security here. At the moment very few at Starfleet know of the incursion. Jon, follow up meetings with Coalition partners on Earth will eventually cause rumors. I prefer them to happen here. Even diplomatic traffic can be notable through its volume. My concern is turning this station into an embassy; that can’t be allowed to happen, it would attract unwanted attention.”

“Additionally, as deliveries and the engineers arrive, conflicts amongst the various species will arise. We will either add a protocol officer, who will give you difficulty or shuttle you back and forth or more likely both. In either case we will become a curiosity.”

Trip suppressed a smile as T’Pol bored in. “Jon, when you were at Starfleet HQ before Enterprise launched, did you know what was occurring at Jupiter Station?”

“I thought I did, but no, not really.”

“To quote Trip, ‘out of sight, out of mind’, that is one of my goals. As far as the shipments go, I submit that former Admiral Gardner was able to hide his misdeeds out here quite effectively.”

Trip added unable to suppress a grin. “As an added bonus, should your fiancé visit, perhaps on her way in or out of system, the captain has assured me that she is welcome and that separate quarters will be available, until after the wedding.” He quickly ducked the thrown ice cube.

“Jon,” continued T’Pol. “In addition, I believe you will be happier in space.”

Jon smiled wistfully. “What of my aide?”

“If he’s housebroken, we can put a couch in your quarters Cap’n.” At that point T’Pol actually did elbow Trip in the ribs, causing him to gasp and Jon to burst out laughing.

“I can’t believe you did that T’Pol. Thank you.”

She merely raised an eyebrow and extended two fingers to Trip, who extended his own and suddenly Jon watched as the couple were transfixed by each other. Fascinated he sat back and observed something he imagined few had seen. Their fingers separated after a few moments, but he felt rather than saw an aura between them. Trip regained his composure first.

“We can put your aide on 10 with you or elsewhere. You decide.”

“Why level 10, what’s on 9?”

T’Pol interjected. “This is my command Jon, and I have observed diplomatic behavior. I do not wish to be kept from my meditations while you and Commander Shran conduct an ale tasting. In fact my hearing is exceptional and I have no desire to be immediately beneath new bondmates either. Commander Tucker, please be certain to place sound proofing materials on level nine.” T’Pol raised an eyebrow demurely.

In response Jon rolled his eyes and poured himself a refresher.

“Jon, I have been contemplating how to best provide quarters for non-humans. Speaking as a Vulcan I am certain my people would prefer an environment that provides a warmer, drier climate plus higher gravity. In addition all Vulcan ships have meditation areas. We can certainly provide all of these things, but is it wise? I am uncertain whether obviously segregated quarters are the best solution.”

Jon leaned back sipping his drink. “Actually I think you may have given me another bargaining chip. Can I assume your concerns are based on not appearing to fully integrate the engineers? I believe that just as you and Trip like having your own quarters to return to when off duty, most of these folks will appreciate any effort to provide a bit of home for them. No doubt Chef will be important as well.”

Trip watched T’Pol rise to her feet, Jon and Trip quickly following. “Have a pleasant evening Jon; Ashayam, do not be too late.” Spend some time with Jon; I think he needs to talk.

I agree. Honey, can you get a message to Kelby that I will be late tomorrow?

Certainly, Adun. She disappeared from the room.

“Well Cap’n, being this close to Earth has a few advantages. I hoped you’d come visit so I have some Sam Adams in the fridge. How long since you had a real beer?”

“Too damn long Trip. Where’s the fridge?” said Jon standing up.

“Through there on the left, opener’s in the top drawer.” Said Trip pointing. “So d’ya slip Erica a mickey or what?”

“I think if we add a few more crewmen we can go to a seven day a week schedule, but I have my doubts, Chief.” Chief Litlitvinowitz and Trip were having their coffee in the mess.  Joining them this morning was Dr. Lucas, who had a spare hypospray with him for the Commodore. “Can’t say that I like the idea of working those shifts until we have a handle on how to assemble the first Gideon.”

“That is why I suggest we finish the ‘Challenger’ under those conditions. Sir, we know what we have to do to build her and we can get the kinks out of the system. It’s the only way I know short of just throwing manpower at the job.”

Trip had agreed wholeheartedly that three shifts would be a disaster. “So if I understand this Chief, everybody works six days a week with different days off? Nobody will know what day of the week it is, but who cares anyway. Have you got a name for the construction chief yet?”

“Yes Commander.” Chief Litlitvinowitz hesitated. Trip gave him the ‘come on’ sign. “Rocco Buonavita.”

“Don’t tell me; it’s another cousin.” The chief just smiled. “Have you contacted him?”

“Yes sir, unofficially.”

“I suppose that Maria already has him cleared.”

“I think you can assume that, sir,” the chief was struggling with his composure.

Dr. Lucas started laughing. “It is wonderful to be back in the real world. Chief, I am looking for a couple of good corpsman. My Table of Organization and Equipment (TO&E) says I can have three, but I haven’t actually asked the CO for them, but I think we are going to need the extra help soon.”

Trip had kept the bond open and soon detected his T’hai’la approaching. He knew she had heard most of what had transpired. Chief Litlitvinowitz saw her coming and snapped his fingers. Her morning tea appeared before her as she took her seat. She thanked the steward and nodded at the Chief.

Trip watched as the Chief slid a PADD to T’Pol, which he assumed comprised the latest personnel requisitions. “Dr. Lucas, do you concur in requiring a third corpsman?” He nodded. “Approved.” She pulled out her own PADD, transferred the data and returned the Chief’s. “Commander Tucker, please work with Commodore Archer to obtain housing requirements for the Andorians and the Tellarites.” She tapped her own PADD and handed it to him. “These are the requirements for up to ten Vulcans. I suggest they be placed on level 13.”

Trip took a quick scan and noted the obligation for a sizeable meditation area. He carefully slid a mental shield into place; he would surprise his wife. Trip watched Jon wander into the mess not quite knowing where to go. He glanced at the Chief who followed his eyes. Another finger snap and Jon was ushered to the table, seated and a hot cup of black coffee placed in front of him. Before he could say thanks the doctor popped him with the hypospray. Trip suppressed a laugh as he watched Jon begin to protest, but the effects were nearly instantaneous.

Jon looked at Dr. Lucas. “What was in that? It’s not one of Phlox’s special recipes is it?”

Dr. Lucas just smiled. “Its classified sir.” Following which Trip lost it, T’Pol’s eyebrows went to the amused level and only the chief fully maintained his composure.

“Do you have an office I can use temporarily, Captain? I find I have a lot of work to do.”

T’Pol retrieved her communicator. “Commander Reed.”

“Reed here.”

“Is 10-5 ready?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Please join us in the mess hall Commander.”

Jon nodded at T’Pol and continued sipping at his coffee. Trip was certain that Jon had forgotten how efficient T’Pol could be. A steward appeared a few minutes later to take their breakfast orders. After he left Jon began. “Captain, may I assume we do not talk business here?”

“No Commodore, we discuss business here with appropriate discretion. Our primary mission is construction and our crew has far more enlisted personnel than Enterprise, which is why Chief Litlitvinowitz is always welcome at my table. There is a routine here that cannot exist while exploring deep space. We need the Chief’s input as we make daily adjustments to our construction plans. You are welcome to dine with us anytime or you may wish to have your own table as circumstances evolve.”

Malcolm appeared moments later declining breakfast. “Commodore, your office and comms are all set up. I assume you will need a ride to Earth?” Jon nodded grimacing slightly. “Captain T’Pol, hereafter I intend to switch the shuttle nameplates whenever we are transporting the Commodore. I have eight options at the moment.”

“Agreed” said T’Pol as Jon’s mouth gaped open. “Rotate pilots as well. I do not believe we need to acquire our third shuttle yet. Do you, Commander?”

Reed responded, “No ma’am. Also assuming the Commodore would like to get his flight pay reinstated, I intend to only assign one pilot. In fact the Commodore’s aide Lt Undofa is certified as a pilot. Commodore, may we use him as a co-pilot on some of our shuttle trips? It would increase our deception.”

Jon managed to close his mouth and responded “Certainly.” His eyes looked at his former crewmates and he quickly realized he had better get up to speed, fast. Looking back to T’Pol, “Captain, would you prefer me to bring Soval here? I intend to talk with him first.”

“Perhaps, please come to my office after inspecting yours. Commander Tucker, your presence will not be required nor is yours Chief. Commander Reed please join us or send Lt. MacGregor.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Commodore,” began T’Pol, ”is your office adequate?” He nodded. “We have two issues in front of us. The next transmission to BA is due in hours. Do you need to remain here?” Jon shook his head. “Then I would prefer you meet with Ambassador Soval at the Vulcan Embassy. Perhaps you can contact the other ambassadors from there. We can relay any updates.” She looked hard and unblinking at the commodore. “Our mission here is to build ships. I need those engineers here as quickly as may be. This incursion must be handled elsewhere. I ask that you allow Commander Reed to join you today.” Jon acknowledged Malcolm who was standing unobtrusively against a bulkhead. “He will have the necessary comm codes.”

It finally began to hit Jon that Jupiter Station’s task was as important as his mission against the Xindi. The station’s task was just as deadly and far larger. He had allowed himself some self-pity, enjoying his friends and not realizing it had been a break for them. He had not understood. His face hardened, “I understand, Captain. I do intend to return to Jupiter Station this evening with my aide and Porthos.”

“Very well, Commodore.”

“Commander Tucker asked me to give this to you, Ambassador,” said Jon handing a PADD to Soval. “I haven’t got any idea what’s on it.” Soval took the PADD and raised an eyebrow as he slid it into his billowing robes.

“Commodore, the Tellarites are due to enter the Cheron system momentarily, is that why you are here?”

“Secondarily, Ambassador. Captain T’Pol has requested that the Vulcan engineers directly involved on the Gideon Project be transferred to Jupiter Station. I am on Earth to make the same request of the Andorians and Tellarites. Captain T’Pol has been ordered by Admiral Black to have three ships launched by year-end. That means flight trials for the “Manshir” must be begin in four months”, Jon paused before going on, “and the damn thing flies.”

Soval watched Commodore Archer’s face closely. He observed signs that his impetuous nature had been replaced by something more mature. “I will make the case to the High Council; I do not foresee any difficulty with the request.”

“Captain T’Pol asked me to give you these plans for the Vulcan quarters on the Station. She asked for any comment you might have. It is her intent to construct housing for each species to their own requirements.” Archer handed over another PADD. Soval activated the device and quickly perused its contents.

“I will forward my thoughts to her directly. I doubt she intended for you to be a courier. Are you adjusting well to your new duties? I am certain it has been quite different from command of the Enterprise.”

“I am beginning to appreciate your patience, Ambassador.” Jon smiled.

The comm sounded and Soval escorted Jon to a small conference room. The relayed message from the Varnum was in Vulcan and Soval translated for him. “Apparently there is a large communication array there. No ships are in sight but using the sensor modifications recommended by Captain T’Pol, there appears to be an extensive minefield. The Tellarites are holding position awaiting orders.” He touched a few symbols on a console and Ambassador Gral appeared. “Ambassador, I am forwarding the message to you.”

Gral listened to the original transmission from the Hognort and grunted. “Soval, we should withdraw, limiting our efforts to photographs, I doubt the Romulans are far away. I do not think we should attack the communications relay. Additionally we should contact the Andorians.”

“Agreed,” said Soval. Gral brought Ambassador Kameen onto a viewer.

“Gral, Ambassador Soval, Commodore Archer, may I assume the Hognort is heard from?”

“Yes”, said Gral. “We have found a large communications array in a minefield, probably Romulan. I am recommending immediate withdrawal with only photographs.”

“Why?” Kameen demanded, his antennae pointing forward aggressively.

“Because we are not prepared to start the war,” snorted Gral.

Soval knew he needed to calm the discussion before Archer erupted. “I suggest we have accomplished our mission. We know where the transmissions are going and we are reliably certain who is behind the incursions. They cannot move the array only increase its defenses. It is dangerous to remain while we discuss our next moves. I suggest we give the order to withdraw.”