Dawn of the Federation Book II: Darkness on the Edge of Space - Cover

Dawn of the Federation Book II: Darkness on the Edge of Space

Copyright© 2015 by The Slim Rhino

Chapter 7: Assignments

Fan Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 7: Assignments - Dark days lie ahead as the Romulans attack. Can the new "Hammer Of War" class ship make a difference? This follows up on Book I: Tomorrow Never Knows.

Caution: This Fan Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fan Fiction   Science Fiction   Space   Aliens   Light Bond   Oriental Female   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Exhibitionism   Workplace   Nudism   War  

We take a short break from the war. This chapter starts a sub-arc that focuses on T'Pau, who was ridiculously badly written on the show. She'll get something of a personality transplant, because what the show writers overlooked was, that if T'Pol at 64 was at 'marriage age', T'Pau at 32 could not be more than a half-baked teenager by Vulcan standards.

Keep in mind though. This is an alternate universe. This T'Pau is not slated to become the grumpy old bat we saw in the TOS episode "Amok Time"

Captains Log, Fleet Captain Charles Anthony Tucker III, November 3rd, 2156

The complete overhaul of Jupiter station has been finished. By incorporating Tellarite metallurgic technology, an evolution design of the non-organic matter re-sequencer, developed during our rebuild of space station Salem One, and Vulcan welding techniques, we are looking at the most sophisticated shipyard in all of the Coalition. The Andorians and Tellarites are chomping at the bit to inspect our handiwork in a bid to upgrade their own facilities to the same standard.

The five old Intrepid class ships we have docked to house crew quarters and recreational facilities have been overhauled by civilian contractors and especially the Galena is a piece of art. It is safe to say that we are the only space station that features an Olympic size swimming pool, a mud bath, an Andorian ice garden and even a small Vulcan monastery of sorts. It's basically comprised of an atrium, a communal meditation chamber with several private meditation chambers. Now all that's missing to turn it into a miniature version of P'Jem are some relics and a few priests. I've scheduled a communication with First Minister T'Pau and I hope she can help with that. With a little over two-hundred Vulcans aboard, by far the biggest contingent of non-humans, I want to have the best possible facilities to cater for their needs.

Three Mess Halls are available. With so many Vulcans aboard, we have decided to have one mess hall dedicated to Vulcan and other vegetarian food, we have one specializing in meat based dishes and one mixed selection galley. Personally, I'm looking forward to trying the recently finished wellness section. After working flat-out for six weeks, I feel an urgent need for some downtime.

I'm not really the type to toot my own horn, but my long-time misgivings about the level of engineering competence of permanent staff at Jupiter station were sadly confirmed. Last year they sent us out with a badly jury-rigged EPS grid that nearly blew up the ship and put me into a coma for two days and upon reviewing old maintenance logs, I realized that such a sloppy work was a frequent occurrence around here. I think Admiral Jeffries is still recovering from the shock over my complaint to Starfleet Engineering. As a result the permanent staff of the station was heavily restructured and spent most of the last six weeks attending intensive re-training courses under supervision of Lieutenant-Commander Anna Hess, Lieutenant-Commander T'Len and Professor Solan.

"Computer, stop recording."


"Greetings, Minister," Trip said with a nod, when T'Pau's face appeared on the screen.

"A formal address is not needed in a private conversation, krei Charles," she answered. "I understand it is human custom to offer congratulations for your recent promotion."

"Thanks, T'Pau," Trip replied and resisted the urge to grin.

"What is it you wanted to speak with me about?"

"Well, we could use a bit of help to make life more comfortable for the two-hundred Vulcans working on Jupiter Station," the engineer explained. "We have constructed a small meditation retreat with a communal and several private meditation chambers, but I gathered we could provide better for the spiritual needs of our Vulcan workforce if we had a priest or two and maybe a few religious ornaments or relics to make the experience a bit more complete for them."

"A most interesting approach," T'Pau noted with a raised eyebrow. "Even our biggest shipyards do not have more than a simple meditation chamber."

"Well, people on your shipyards aren't bombarded by alien emotions from humans, Andorians and Tellarites through working with them in close quarters. As the only human to be bonded to a Vulcan, I'm in a unique situation to know what the impact of foreign emotions feels like and I'm determined to make it as comfortable as possible for our Vulcan contingent to cope with these unique circumstances."

"A most thoughtful measure," T'Pau agreed and Trip thought he saw a fleeting smile on her face. He reminded himself that despite filling the top spot in Vulcan's hierarchy, T'Pau's age of 34 years meant she was a young girl in her late teens by human standards, so her emotional control was not yet what would be expected of an adult Vulcan even though she looked like a grown woman. T'Pol had explained that the emotional control of T'Pau was exceptional for someone her age, but nowhere near fully developed.

"I do think, help can be arranged," T'Pau said after a moment of contemplation. "If the security arrangements and your schedule allow, I would wish to inspect this first jointly staffed facility as well."

"No problem from my point," Trip said. "We'd be glad to have you, but I would like to ask you to go through official channels. Soval can easily arrange a visit with Admiral Gardner. I bet some of the Starfleet higher-ups would like a meeting with you, too."

"Of course it will be arranged as an official visit. We would not wish to irritate our coalition partners by creating the impression of clandestine arrangements."

"That's settled then," Trip said. "Looking forward to meeting you. Live long and prosper, T'Pau."

"Peace and long life, Charles."

The screen went blank.

"Krei Charles, huh?" Hoshi chuckled and looked up at him from under his desk, where she was cowering between his legs.

"Y'know hon, if someone walked in right now, we'd have a rather strange looking situation to explain," Trip quipped.

"It's not my fault that a certain Fleet Captain tried to rig his own communications console," Hoshi snorted very eerily sounding like Malcolm and pointed at the opened panel under his desk that allowed a view at a twisted set of wires. "You might be the best with warp engines, but when it comes to installing subspace electronics, you better leave the job to someone, who knows what she's doing. I nearly got electrocuted just trying to keep the connection alive."

"Sorry Hoshi," he groveled. "And thanks for helping me out."

"You can bow and scrape later," she said with a mischievous grin. "I've booked the spa for us tonight. Twenty-hundred – don't be late."

"Ah, yes," Trip remembered. "T'Pol sold me off as a guinea pig for your neuropressure training."

"Exactly," Hoshi said crawling up from under the desk. "But don't pretend you aren't eager to try out the hot bath and the sauna. Your dad told me that you checked on the building process every single day."

"Busted," Trip admitted.

"And now get out," Hoshi ordered with a smile, pointing at the door. "I need about an hour to clean up the mess you've made of this console, so get out and pretend to be useful."

"Aye ma'am," he mock-saluted and left, still chuckling.


"What do you say?" Malcolm asked as a wall of shimmering light divided the laboratory in two halves.

"You've invented the force field - again," Trip joked with a theatrical congratulatory gesture.

Suddenly he saw the artificial wall morph into a cube, hovering mid air.

"What do you say now?" Malcolm asked again – a bit more triumphantly this time.

"Okay, I'd say that's something else," Trip whistled. "Do you think we could seal cooling leaks with that?"

"Containing cooling leaks and EPS fires were two of the uses I had in mind with this one," Malcolm confirmed. "It's still a bit costly on energy requirements, but I gather that it is preferable to evacuating engineering if a pipe bursts, unless Terval needs more bowling practice that is."

"You bet," Trip said with a look at the schematics. "How strong is it?"

"Look at that," Malcolm said and pulled the phase pistol from its holster. Setting the weapon to kill he aimed at the cubic force field. The beam hit the outer surface, but was unable to penetrate it.

"I'd say that's strong enough. Not bad, Mal, not bad at all," Trip said admiringly.

"I must say, station life is growing on me," Malcolm admitted. "I finally have the time to work on some old research projects of mine. Starfleet even offered me a seat on the design committee for the new Mark IV torpedoes."

"Too bad you can't use the more fun parts of the facility," Trip said sincerely. "Hoshi booked the wellness section for us tonight and I think we could all use a breather."

"True," Malcolm agreed wistfully, but then started smiling. "But don't worry about me, mate. I'll get enough wellness tonight."

"Well I noticed Hoshi is in a good mood," Trip grinned knowingly. "Have you considered seeing a counselor about your aquaphobia?"

"Been there, done that," Malcolm said with a sigh. "I've tried acupuncture, hypnosis, counseling sessions – all to no avail."

"I was thinking about a Vulcan counselor," Trip said. "Your problem is deeply rooted and only a Vulcan could delve that deeply into your mind."

"Do you really think one of them would do that?" Malcolm asked. "As I understand, mind-melding is quite an intimate thing."

"It is," Trip said. "But so is getting naked, yet we do it at the doctors office if needed."

"I think I see what you mean," Malcolm said with a snicker. "Well, it cannot hurt to try, although I wouldn't know who to ask."

"If memory serves me right, T'Len was a counselor on her ship." Trip recalled.

"Vulcans need counselors?" Malcolm asked. "I cannot remember T'Pol ever seeing one."

"T'Pol has her bond-mate nearby," Trip explained. "Vulcan couples often serve on different ships though and a bond isn't a magical device that works over light years of distance. And even bonded couples sometimes need the help of a counselor to re-establish equilibrium."

"Sounds sort of difficult."

"It is," Trip agreed. "A Vulcan bond is constant work, but also the most satisfying thing I can imagine."


"Ah momma, that was a great meal," Charles said admiringly. "You're fantastic."

"Glad you liked it," Cathryn said, smiling happily. Now that the biggest wave of hungry workers was well fed, she could take some time to enjoy a meal with her husband. "Did you know that some of the Vulcans eat sea food?"

"Means they live near the Voroth Sea," Charles said. "T'Pol told me their diet can be quite diverse based on where they come from and what is traditional in their clans."

"Do you think we can find out what their traditional food is?" Cathryn asked. "I'd like to have a few more of them in here."

"Getting into a competition with V'Karan's galley?" Charles asked with a grin.

"Not really," Cathryn denied. "But I want people to mix more. Most of the Andorians hang out at the steak house and the Vulcans mostly keep to the vegetarian mess hall. I doubt this is what they had in mind with the Coalition. What's the point if everyone just hangs out with their own?"

"Trok said you're making a brilliant krill-beast steak," Charles said.

"They seem to like it," Cathryn agreed, smiling at the thought of Andorians complimenting on her cooking. "But I cannot make it every day or I'll get into trouble with Mr. Snyder for stealing his steak house business."

"Maybe the three of you should start coordinating your menus," Charles suggested. "For instance V'Karan has Pesto Cavatappi on the menu today and you have Spaghetti Carbonara. Snyder has a Mediterranean grilled rib-eye steak. Our people had been hoping for some Italian food for two weeks and now they couldn't decide which one to choose. Would be better to not serve the same type of food on the same day."

"Good idea," Cathryn agreed.


Trip was lying face down on the floor, out cold.

"Did I do that?" Hoshi giggled, slightly unsure of what to make of the situation. Just moments before, Trip's body had gone limp and he would have fallen hard had T'Pol not caught him. She seemingly had prepared for an occurrence just like that one.

"Indeed you did. The neural nodes you stimulated instructed his neural system to enter a regenerative sleep," T'Pol explained. "He has worked excessively and is in urgent need of rest."

"I'm not sure this was the best idea though," Hoshi noted with a smile. "We can hardly carry a naked Captain home once our time is up."

"I have extended the booking until tomorrow morning," T'Pol said. "We will sleep on the loungers in here tonight. The warm temperature will assist me in finding sleep as well. You are welcome to stay, too."

"No thanks," Hoshi declined. "I wouldn't want to leave Malcolm alone all night."

"I too find it difficult to sleep alone," T'Pol admitted.

"Sleep is not what I had in mind," Hoshi said with a chuckle and watched T'Pol hoisting up Trip.

"I see," T'Pol acknowledged dryly as she put Trip down on a lounger and covered his naked form with a light blanket.

"By the way," Hoshi remembered as she slid into the hot water of the bathtub. "Malcolm told me that Trip suggested seeing a Vulcan counselor about his water problem. Do you think you could help with that?"

"I am not a trained counselor. Mind-melding for therapeutic reasons requires more experience with the art than I possess," T'Pol admitted and joined Hoshi in her artificial onsen. "However, T'Pau will soon visit the station. She has a lot of melding experience and could provide an initial assessment of Malcolm's therapeutic needs."

"She's the First Minister, T'Pol," Hoshi said in astonishment.

"She is also a member of our clan and you and Malcolm are affiliated members through your status as En'ahr'at to Lorian. It would be an insult to her if we did not ask her."

"It can't hurt to try," Hoshi said, lazily pedaling in the hot water. "He doesn't need to become a water rat, but maybe at least relaxed enough to come in here with me."

"That would indeed be a desirable outcome," T'Pol agreed, mimicking Hoshi's foot pedaling. "Trip voiced his concern that in the long term Malcolm could feel left out, if we meet in here every second day without him."

"I don't think he would see it that way, but I want to get him to at least come in here," Hoshi declared with a mischievous grin. "I have some ideas for using that sauna I need him for and Trip can definitely not help with that."

"Indeed," T'Pol noted dryly and raised a knowing eyebrow.


Vulcan, 2 weeks later...

"Take a seat, daughter of our Clan."

T'Pau fought the momentary danger to let her surprise show. It was exceedingly rare that the Eldest Mother addressed someone in the modern dialect of the Khomi region, once the home of all members of Clan Sh'hiran'lin'iijyliunh'rei'iy'iukn'hy'wen'lhia'ehrm'n. Of course in modern society, where the clans lived in peaceful coexistence, there was no need anymore to separate from other clans and Vulcans settled in locations all over the planet, regardless of their bloodline.

The young leader refocused on her host, expecting a rather personal conversation, as in any other case T'Para would have addressed her in High Golic, as was her habit when dealing with Clan matters.

"I have donated the requested spiritual items and relics as well as a supply of J'Kah stones from our Clan's inventory. V'Mar is on his way to serve as the Eldest of the facility. Clan dvinsu zul-os-yon will also dispatch one of their Elders to serve on the station."

"That is agreeable news. I am convinced that krei Charles will appreciate your help."

"It is me, who shall demonstrate gratitude," T'Para dismissed the sentiment, much to T'Pau's surprise. Vulcans usually dismissed sentiments like gratitude as unnecessary. To hear the Eldest Mother using the concept in conversation was most unexpected.

"I have been in frequent contact with Charles over the last two weeks. He wished to be educated most thoroughly about the spiritual needs of Vulcans under his command," the matriarch explained.

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