Dawn of the Federation Book I : Tomorrow Never Knows
Chapter 21: Test Run

Copyright© 2015 by The Slim Rhino

Fan Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 21: Test Run - Before I tried my hand at original stories, I've been dabbling in Star Trek fanfiction for six years, mainly the early noughts series "Enterprise", which could have been so great without Berman and Braga ruining it. This is my Magnum Opus in the field. I've been working on it since 2009 and it is still active, at currently around 300K words. It starts directly after the late season four episode "Bound" and goes AU from there. It describes the lives of Commander T'Pol and Charles Tucker III.

Caution: This Fan Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fan Fiction   Science Fiction   Time Travel   Space   Aliens   Oral Sex   Workplace   Nudism  

"Trip?" Malcolm asked from behind the pillar that the small battle group used as cover.

"All clear, Malcolm. You better take a look at this."

Carefully Malcolm crawled into the access tube and with a horrified "urk!" he quickly covered his nose and mouth with the collar of his uniform.

"You better stay out, T'Pol," he called back, knowing that she would probably drop down unconscious immediately if confronted with the horrible stench.

After indicating Trip to activate the ventilation system that was normally used to flush out smoke or other forms of contamination, he took out his scanner, trying to pick up the residue of weapons activity.

"Found anything?" Trip asked after the ventilation system had started to make the air breathable again.

"It's exactly the same signature we found after seizing the station. I suppose that clears up her motive. We should alert the Vulcans. There could be more sleepers waiting on their ships."

"And how would you propose to do that?" Trip asked back.

"We now have a fresh and complete weapon signature," Malcolm said, waving his scanner in triumph. "If there are more of them around, we should be able to uncover them by the signature of their weapons. They're not exactly standard issue Vulcan phasers."


Hoshi looked around the table. That was probably one of the biggest congregations of Vulcans ever in a human facility. Six Vulcan captains, their tactical officers, Terval and Enterprise's officers – all currently of Salem One – had assembled in the situation room of the station to discuss the aftermath of T'Ran's amok run.

Her look fell on poor captain Savok. Even though her long friendship with T'Pol had given her precious insight into the private life of Vulcans, she had never seen one, who looked so openly miserable. She knew that T'Pol had spent a lot of time in meditation with him and his wife T'Lara, trying to help them cope with the loss of their son Stevok and keep them functioning while waiting for the the priests to arrive. But now he had insult added to injury, knowing that one of the traitors had been a member of his crew. Even to someone not as intimately familiar with the inner workings of a Vulcan as herself, it was patently obvious that Captain Savok was still far from being in complete control of his emotions.

"Has the inquiry led to any results," T'Pol asked and Hoshi was startled when she heard captain Savok let out an audible sigh. To her surprise all Vulcans including T'Pol and even Trip immediately cast their glances down on the table. Since this seemed the way how Vulcans gave an obviously grieving man some sort of privacy, she quickly mirrored the gesture and Malcolm seemed to have picked up the clue, too.

"Two members of my crew took their own life," Savok reported once he had regained his composure. "There appears to have been some kind of communication between them as their suicides happened at almost the same time as the one of T'Ran."

Hoshi, still staring at the table in front of her thought that Savok used the name of the traitor almost like a swear word. Hearing a Vulcan's voice with so much emotion in it was an unsettling experience, especially for someone who knew what an out-of-control Vulcan would be like.

"Where you able to confirm the data we provided?" T'Pol asked.

"Yes. Weapon signatures, as well as the type of organic residue after their suicide, match exactly with the data you provided. There is no doubt that the two crew members were acting in league with T'Ran."

"That leaves the question, how three high profile traitors could gain a posting on a Vulcan ship," Malcolm said.

"Before we continue," T'Pol interrupted. "I would suggest that we excuse Captain Savok, so that he may return to meditation. Your service despite the dire circumstances honors you, Captain."

Hoshi observed the nod of Savok and watched him leave the room. She couldn't help but admire the man. Despite his emotional turmoil, his exit had a strange aura of dignity about it.

"Subcommander Terval, were you able to find any indication, how the crew members in question achieved their posting?" T'Pol asked.

"It is currently unknown, how they managed to pass all checks by the Ministry of Security, but there is one commonality: All of them joined the fleet shortly after the dismissal of former administrator V'Las."

"I remember that Minister T'Pau could only give us 23 ships, when we chased the Romulan drone ship," Malcolm said. "If I remember correctly, the reason was that half of the Vulcan fleet was out of crew. Could they have used that to their advantage?"

"The thought of a Vulcan neglecting his duties like that is unsettling," Terval replied. "But we must take into consideration that the security checks may not have been conducted at peak efficiency at the time."

That's one way to put it, Hoshi thought with grim sarcasm.


Terval looked at the data before him. It had taken him a few minutes to adjust to the switch from security investigation, lasting several days, to an engineering test, but the need for efficiency demanded it. Since freighters with materials, tools and additional engineering personnel arrived almost daily, getting the dilapidated and damaged space station back into working order required every free resource.

That's why Terval found himself assisting the only non-Vulcan member of his clan in a pivotal test.

"You know," the human started. "If I wasn't impressed with Vulcans already, I'd certainly be now. Every one of you I run into can fill in just about any spot on the Engineering team at the drop of a hat – from the Captain to the most junior lab assistant."

While Terval did not understand, what importance the fall of headgear had in this case, he nonetheless understood the gist of his human krei's statement.

"Due to our lesser need for sleep, Vulcan ships are not as generously staffed as human ships," he explained. "While you have three to four complete shifts for major ship functions, our ships only have two. This means that personnel have to be cross-trained to fill in more than one position to ensure ship function in case of casualties."

"And all of them can work in engineering, I suppose."

"Indeed."

"I think T'Pol once said something like that, but at the time I thought that was just a bit of showing off."

"Vulcans do not 'show off', Commander," Terval said with a hint of indignation, but to his surprise, his human relative started to laugh.

"You find this amusing?" he asked.

"Yeah, I do," Trip answered. "If I'd have a credit for every time T'Pol said 'Vulcans do not do this or Vulcans do not do that', I'd be filthy rich by now. Guess what - most of the things she did anyway."

"Krei T'Pol is not a typical Vulcan," Terval said.

"You can say that again."

"Krei T'Pol is not a typical Vulcan," Terval parroted, which obviously amused the human even more.

"Sorry," the Commander said. "That's just a figure of speech. It means that I completely agree with your statement."

"Interesting," Terval said with a raised brow. "I believe it would be prudent for me to study human colloquialisms in more detail, now that we have a human clan member."

"That'd be mighty generous, but trust me, it is easier for me to learn Vulcan than for you trying to get a grip on my 'colorful phrases', as Soval puts it. And besides; I'm one human in the whole clan of – what - a few hundred Vulcans? Why should they all learn to understand me, when it is much more logical for me to learn Vulcan?"

"Indeed," Terval said.


"Okay, I think we're ready," Trip said. As much as he enjoyed talking with one of T'Pol's far-flung relatives, there was a vital test to conduct. If successful, his ingenious contraption, built from parts they had scavenged from three protein re-sequencers – much to Chef's dismay – would now churn out several stem bolts instead of milk or coffee.

"Re-sequencing procedures initiated, energy flow steady," Terval reported.

With a metallic hum the machine came to life and the expected shimmer built up between the platform and the sequence emitters. A rather unappetizing sound built up – sounding like a rather nasty case of diarrhea, Trip thought – and the sequence shut down.

"That's not gone well," the chief engineer sighed, looking at the puddles of steaming hot molten metal on the platform.

"The alloy has been correctly re-sequenced," Terval reported after waving his scanner over the rather unfortunate result of their test. "It appears that the material was merely emitted in the wrong aggregate state."

"A 'mere' two thousand degree deviation," Trip snorted in frustration, while carefully removing the puddles of metal before they would become solid. Suddenly he heard a familiar voice in his mind.

Try reducing the speed of the re-sequencing process by a factor of two point eight five.

Concentrating on his own path to her mind, he sent her an image of himself kissing her on the cheek – his usual image that meant 'Thanks darling'.

When he returned to full attention, he found himself under high-browed scrutiny of Terval.

"T'Pol says we should slow down the re-sequencing procedure by factor two point eight five," he explained.

"You can communicate telepathically?" Terval asked - his eyebrow still in arctic explorer mode, very far north.

"Well, T'Pol can. I, having all the telepathic talent of a tree stump, can't really. I can only send her images and impressions, and even that took weeks of intense training."

"Fascinating; such ability is most unusual."

"Not really. T'Pol is a strong telepath, according to Soval."

"You do not understand," Terval insisted. "Speaking without words has been unheard of since the time of awakening. The bond between you must be immensely strong."

"Wow, never looked at it like that," Trip realized wide-eyed. "Guess we were really meant for each other."

"Indeed."

"Okay," Trip said, returning to the business at hand. "You put the breaks on that procedure and I'll update the calculations for energy requirements."

"Agreed," Terval answered and Trip had to smile, knowing that the Vulcan had probably just guessed what task he was expected to complete.


T'Pol flinched, when her mind was hit, unprepared, by a sudden wave of joy and satisfaction. Followed shortly afterward by an image of a single rose, her mate's 'standard image' for 'sorry', she knew that the latest test must have been successful and he had been too occupied to raise his shields before allowing his emotions free reign. She quickly changed direction to section E45, where Trip and Terval had spent the best part of the shift wrapped up in their experiments.

As she entered the workshop, she found Trip holding a stem bolt with a gripper, while Terval took measurements with an engineering scanner.

"I suppose your experiment has met with some success?" T'Pol asked.

"Yep," Trip said with a broad grin and she could feel his pride resonating in her mind. "We have now the first re-sequencer that can produce entirely inorganic matter. It's not nearly as sophisticated as the one we saw on that automated repair station, but it's a start."

"This is indeed a success," T'Pol answered. "I take it, its use is somewhat limited though?"

"Well, since we have to use organic matter as a source, it only works by re-sequencing trace elements, so the amount of matter we can produce is somewhat limited and we still have a temperature problem. But if we slow down the re-sequencing any further, we won't be able to keep up with the energy demands."

"Will it be of practical use?" T'Pol asked.

"Oh it will," Trip reported happily. "I reckon, we can produce about two kilos of alloy from a day's load of crap..."

"Your language," T'Pol interrupted sternly.

"Sorry. Anyway, anything up to two kilos can be produced quickly and without bothering a whole engineering crew for half a shift. Especially for all those small nuts 'n bolts it will save us a lot of trouble."


"Deploy grapplers," Erika ordered and waited for the affirmative confirmation. Just a few days into the final trial runs of Atlantis they had come across a stranded UEC freighter. With the United Earth Cargo Authority having no other ship in the vicinity, Starfleet had agreed to help out and that's why the crew of UEC Horizon found themselves getting a tow from Earth's NX fleet flagship.

"Grapplers latched on," the tactical officer replied.

"Helm, direct course to Salem One, full impulse!"


Trip was still trying to swallow down the embarrassment of having been admonished for his language, when Hoshi interrupted them via intercom.

"Captain, there's an incoming transmission from Atlantis."

"Put it through to workshop E45."

The small view screen lit up and showed an NX class bridge that only differed from that on Enterprise in the fact that it had two Captain's chairs. One was occupied by a still very fragile looking Erika Hernandez and the other by a grinning Commodore Archer.

"It's good to see you, T'Pol."

"As it is to see you Commodore," T'Pol replied, adding: "And especially you, Captain Hernandez."

"We are headed your way with a stranded freighter in tow. The Horizon was en-route to Salem One with a load of tools anyway, so Starfleet thinks you might be able to help them."

"Travis will love to see his folks, Cap'n," Trip said. "We only have two docking ports and two robotic arms operational so far, but that should be enough to deal with a freighter. We won't have have any for you though. Lorian bashed the only operating big sized port in, so you'll have to ship to one of the smaller ports with a shuttle pod.

"You'd think after eighty years as a Captain he would have gotten the hang of the driving," Archer chuckled.

"Well, it was your granddaughter, who did the parking," Trip retorted smugly. "And besides, had they not bashed the door in, we'd be space dust now. But that's a story to be told, when you're here."

"I'm keen to hear it," Archer replied. "We'll arrive in 5 days."


5 days later...

For the first time since the Siege of Salem One Captain Savok felt firmly in control of his emotions again. While his mate still struggled and still could not return to duty, he had managed to overcome the agony of the severed bond with his deceased son.

Of all the people, who helped them, Captain T'Pol and her human mate were probably the most unexpected. Having been extremely apprehensive to include the human in the meditation, but too much in turmoil to really protest this idea, he soon had to revise his opinion of humans, when he realized just how effective the inclusion of a human had made the practice.

Lacking the instinctual inhibitions to express his emotions, the human had simply soaked up the pain through the touch telepathic connection that had been created by lightly touching each other in what Commander Tucker had once described as a 'telepathic pow-wow' – to the obvious displeasure of his mate. Seeing the human's discolored face, clearly showing the discomfort he had willingly subjected himself to, had been an unsettling experience, but it had been most effective. Thankfully he had not needed to discomfort Captain T'Pol and her mate any longer once the priests had arrived.

 
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