Chapter 14: Trials and Refits

NX-01 Enterprise at Jupiter Station, July 16th 2155

“Hey, come in,” Trip said as he indicated Jon and Shran to enter their quarters. “Commodore, huh, looks like you fell up the ladder. Congratulations.”

“Thanks; As of three hours ago, but don’t think you’ll get rid of me,” Jon answered and Trip mirrored the wide grin of his friend. “I’ll be your fleet commander.”

“Thought you’d get the Atlantis?” Trip asked, while Shran and Archer took their seats at the table after exchanging nods with T’Pol, Hoshi and Malcolm.

“No, Erika gets her, but I’ll be stationed on Atlantis as Fleet Commander.”

“Now if that’s not a coincidence,” Trip said with a wide grin. “How is she by the way.”

“She’s on the mend. Her sight’s been back for a month now and she has started rehab to rebuild muscle mass.”

“So what you’ve been up to, while we were in the Expanse, Sir? I heard something about you being attacked on Vulcan?” Malcolm asked.

“Always the security officer, Malcolm,” Archer said with an amused grin. “You’ll get the details when you take over your own ship next year, but suffice to say the official version differs slightly from the actual events.”

“It’s been decided then? I get my own command?” Malcolm asked and Trip could hear some excitement in his voice.

“Yes, NX-07 Buran will be yours, Congratulations. She’ll be ready in February, together with Atlantis and Endeavour.”

“Although it would’ve been a more appropriate choice for Shran,” Trip said with a chuckle, while serving beer to the male contingent. T’Pol and Hoshi preferred juice.

“Why?” Shran asked.

“Buran is Russian and means ‘snow storm’,” Hoshi explained.

“With Lorian’s ship that’ll make eight in the fleet, that should give those Romulans something to think about, before they dare to attack,” Malcolm said in an appreciative voice.

“Actually, ten,” Archer corrected. “I thought you might know about this already, but obviously not. The Xindi are building two NX-class ships at Azati Prime in fact, your Buran will be one of them. It was first planned to be built here, but they shuffled things around a bit, because the Vulcans have now offered to help as well.”

Trip whistled in appreciation. “Looks like our trip was more successful than expected.”

Archer nodded, while clinking glasses with the other men around.

“What the hell?” Trip exclaimed, when he walked the corridor towards the briefing room with T’Pol and Lorian the next morning.

He stopped at the view port and stared at the two contraptions that floated in space near the station. They had two nacelles, slightly bigger than those of Enterprise, but their bodies mounted at the bottom were not much bigger than twice or three times the size of engineering and they had some sort of dish mounted at the front. Due to the small bulk, the nacelles, which protruded in a huge V shape, looked ridiculously oversized.

“I’m sure the admiral will be able to explain them,” Lorian said. “We need to hurry, however. We should not be late for the briefing.”

Admiral Gardner grinned.

“Uh, oh, Commander Tucker might be heading our way with an opinion,” he said to his aide jokingly, when the commotion in the corridor could be heard from within the briefing room.

Still grinning, he returned the greetings of the three visitors as they entered the briefing room.

“You look like an engineer with a question,” the admiral said.

“You bet,” Trip replied and mirrored the admiral’s grin. “Since when does Starfleet build hot rods?”

Gardner nodded towards his aide, who connected a laser projector to a PADD. Soon the picture of a well-modified NX-class appeared on the wall. No further explanation came forward, so the three officers took a look at what was presented to them. It was easily visible that the ‘hot rods’ were actually extensions, which were meant to be mated to the hull of a NX-class star ship, which did not much to improve the looks of the sleek vessel.

The admiral had come to know and appreciate Commander Tucker as one of the few people, who did not look at rank insignia, before making their opinion known and he did not have to hazard a guess, what the Commander would say about the slightly ungainly looks of the proposed design changes.

“I suppose there’s a good reason for making our ship look ugly?” came the foreseeable question.

“I admit, we won’t be nominated for a design prize,” Gardner agreed. “But I think a thoroughly ‘tuckerized’ and enlarged engine and a Vulcan energy shield will make up for the beauty deficit.”

“Vulcan shielding? The real thing?”

“Straight out of a Suurok class battle-cruiser,” Gardner explained. “Not the makeshift, hunkered down version you tested on your voyage to the Xindi.”

“I’ll be damned,” Trip said with an admiring smile. “Does that have to do with Jon’s mysterious trip to Vulcan?”

“In a way,” the admiral agreed. “Captain T’Pol will receive the confident details of that mission and since you are not your garden-variety Captain-Engineer combo, I’d be okay with you sharing these details, as long as I have your word that nothing of it will leave whatever room you are in at the time and that the room in question is not the mess hall.”

“You have our word,” T’Pol assured. “Does this permission to share information include our son?”

Gardner smiled, when he realized that they seemed to have adopted Lorian as their own, which he was in a bizarre, roundabout time traveling way, but technically wasn’t at the same time.

“Since Lorian will soon be a Captain in good Starfleet standing, he will get the same report, so it’s all the same to me.”

“Does that mean Starfleet has come to a decision regarding our ship?” Lorian asked.

“Indeed we have,” Gardner said. “According to Commander Tucker’s report the internal structure of your ship is perfectly sound. So we’ve decided to rebuild the outer hull with a little help from Vulcan. In fact the second ‘hot rod’ out there will be bolted under your ship’s belly.”

“This is satisfying news, Admiral. What will happen with the crew?”

“Every one of them, who wants to stay on board, will receive a basic training on Starfleet procedures and ranks will be assigned after evaluating each applicant’s field-experience. There is one catch though.”

“A catch?”

“Yes; With all respect to your crew’s sense of humor, but I’m afraid you won’t be getting to keep the snappy name.”

“That was to be expected,” Lorian agreed with a raised eyebrow. “Does Starfleet have a proposal?”

“We were thinking about NX-10 Endurance.”

“Considering the ship’s history, the name is most appropriate.”

“May I ask a technical question?” Trip interrupted, which prompted an affirmative nod from Gardner.

“Considering that these things are built separately, does that mean they are detachable?”

“Only to a degree,” Gardner’s aide answered after being prompted to do so. “In an emergency situation, the two parts of the ship can be separated, but it requires 6 engineers in EVA suites to detach the nacelle pylons from the main hull. Reconnecting both resulting vessels requires a space dock.”

“So not a very useful procedure then,” Trip stated.

“It can be,” the young lieutenant disagreed. “In an emergency, the saucer section can limp away on impulse power, while the extension section can commence battle as an extremely nimble vehicle. We are still working on making the separation more practical.”

“The thing has its own bridge?” Trip asked.

“Yes,” Gardner answered. “It can be run with a minimum complement of six. That brings me to one of the reasons I called you here. Captain T’Pol can you man the two vessels out there with officers and crewmen of your crew?”

He handed her a PADD with the crew requirements for the ‘hot rods’.

“It should be possible,” she answered after studying the documents. “However, logic dictates that both Chief Engineer and helmsman require a certain experience, considering that the engines in the extension sections are built to power a much larger and heavier vehicle.”

“I doubt that you have any problems in the engineering department,” Gardner replied with a smirking look at Trip. “So I guess you have reservations about helmsmen?”

“Indeed. Both helmsman and communications officer of the gamma shift have only recently joined the crew and it would pose a certain risk to leave them in charge of such a delicate vehicle without supervision of a more experienced officer.”

“Could you spare a helmsman and a com officer, once your crew has been sworn in?” Gardner asked Lorian.

“I doubt that Starfleet has any officers more experienced than Karyn Archer and my science officer Yuichi Sato. But our crew is already stretching thin, so they would be missing for running Endurance,” Lorian answered and Gardner had to smile about the way Lorian used the new name as if it had always been the one of his ship.

“I doubt they will be needed, when traveling inside an aquatic ship,” the admiral explained. “In two weeks’ time, Enterprise, the two ‘hot-rods’ and an aquatic ship will fly in convoy towards the T’Kuth shipyards in Vulcan space. Your ship will get a new hull and both ships will be refitted with the new extensions.”

“Are the Xindi running a shuttle-service for us now?” Trip asked with amusement about the recent rise in piggy-back rides with the Aquatics.

“Well, let’s say, ever since we helped them getting rid of the sphere-builders, they’re practically falling over themselves to provide any help they can.”

“Good morning, Commodore.”

“Good morning, Melinda,” Jon answered, falling in step with the head-nurse. “Is Erika ready yet?”

“Oh, she’s waiting for you in the exercise room already, but let me warn you, her mood is foul at best.”

“Torture room would probably be more appropriate,” Jon answered with a slight shiver. “After what I had to put her through yesterday, I wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to kill or dump me at the very least. I can’t understand what went on in your heads to put me in charge of her rehab program. I’m a Captain, not a physiotherapist.”

“Um, well,” Melinda said. “We knew that the program would be hell in the first weeks. We thought, you’d be the only one she won’t kill.”

“Why, thank you,” Jon said with a hint of sarcasm as they reached the door to the ‘torture chamber’, where Jon’s victim was waiting for another day of excruciating rehab training.

July 30th 2155, en-route to Vulcan

Trip sat in the captain’s chair of his hot-rod, effortlessly screaming towards Vulcan at a steady warp 5.7. Considering that the new engine was built to reach the same speed with Enterprise added to the current structure, it was barely above idle, while he was sure that Anna, now acting Chief Engineer, had her hands full to ensure that Enterprise would keep up with the ‘hot-rods’ and the aquatic ship, which provided a lift for Endurance and Lorian’s merry band of newly minted Starfleet officers.

“Captain, Enterprise asks for a status report,” Lieutenant Yuichi Sato, com officer on loan from Endurance said.

“Patch them through Lieutenant.”

“Enterprise to Bullet One, we require your current status.”

T’Pol’s voice filled the small bridge of their vehicle and Trip had to grin about the fact how long it had taken him and Malcolm to get T’Pol to agree that they may name their ‘hot rods’ Bullet One and Bullet Two.

“This is Bullet One. All systems are working perfectly.”

“Acknowledged. The Vulcan High Council has cleared approach. Contact Bullet Two and prepare to go ahead at warp 5.85. When you arrive at the ship yards, both vehicles are to be handed over into responsibility of Commodore O’Riordan and Professor Solan.”

“Understood, Enterprise.”

Trip waited for Lt. Sato to close the channel. Of course T’Pol’s order did only convey the part that concerned the crew. The fact that he was to prepare her mother’s house for her arrival had been arranged privately before. While the crew would spend some well-earned shore leave in the human compound, he was looking forward to some quite days with T’Pol, Malcolm and Hoshi in her mother’s home, which was now becoming theirs. If no problems arose, they were set to arrive in Vulcan space at least two days before Enterprise and the Aquatics.

“Lieutenant, patch me a channel to grandma,” Trip ordered with a grin, which all bridge crew acknowledged with chuckles.

“Don’t let her hear that, Captain,” Yuichi Sato answered with amusement.

“Why? You are preparing to rat me out to Hoshi, Lieutenant?” Trip asked back, which caused another round of amusement on the bridge.

“Patching through,” Hoshi’s great grandson reported.

“Bullet Two, this is Bullet One, what’s your status Malcolm?”

“All systems working,” Malcolm reported.

“Did you get T’Pol’s order?”

“Yes, just give the word. We’re ready to accelerate.”

Trip smiled. Malcolm sounded positively relaxed. If it had been the fact that he was almost alone on the bridge with Hoshi, his first command or the prospect of several days of R&R on Vulcan was hard to say, but it was good to see Malcolm open up since he was dating Hoshi.

“Bullet One and Two, Tucker to helm. Advance to warp 5.85, direct course to T’Kuth approach perimeter, NOW.”

“Warp 5.85, direct course,” came the almost simultaneous reply from Ensign Karyn Archer and Ensign Carrick, Travis’ wing man, who operated the helm in Bullet Two.

“One more time, honey,” Jon said encouragingly, while Erika hung between the wooden bars, completely exhausted.

“I can’t,” Erika pleaded.

“You can,” Jon disagreed. “You managed ten passes yesterday and ten passes the day before, so...”

“Which part of ‘I’m beat’ don’t you understand?” Erika spat angrily, still hanging powerlessly between the bars that she supported herself on in her attempts to relearn walking and building up muscles that were degenerated after months of immobility.

“Erika, I know it is hard, but if we want to get away from this place,” Jon said, looking around the ‘torture chamber’ disapprovingly. “The sooner you get better, the sooner we’re out of here. Do you think I’m having fun with this? I can think of better hobbies than watching you being cranky for weeks.”

“WHAT DO YOU EXPECT?” Erika shrieked. “I nearly get killed by fucking Klingons, then I wake up with months of my life missing, blind, and powerless and fucking horny like a sixteen year old, because you read this stuff to me, while I was in the coma and now you torture the damn stuffing out of me, while you sit there like Pasha!”

Jon waited for her rant to be over.

“Got it out of your system now?” he asked, trying to sound as impassive as possible. “First of all, it’s certainly not my fault that all your favorite books are smut novels. Can you imagine how I felt reading that stuff out loud? Do you think I have fun seeing you in agony?”

Erika stared at him, still enraged. With grunts of pain, she pushed herself up on her arms and waddled forward, huffing and puffing like an old steam locomotive, her face a pained grimace of fury. Once she reached the end of the bars, she just let go and Jon nearly sprained an ankle in the attempt to catch her, before she piled into a heap on the floor. Once in his arms she started to cry heartrendingly and Jon rubbed her back, trying to calm her down.

“I’m so sorry Jon,” she muttered between sobs.

“It’s ok, honey.”

“Bloody Norah,” Malcolm swore under his breath. He should have known that, when a die-hard gentleman like Trip advised against usual chivalry and to let Hoshi carry her own stuff, it was best to heed the warning. Instead he had insisted on carrying both his and Hoshi’s duffel, which had the size and weight of Belgium, and he was now paying the price as the three officers climbed up the long path towards T’Pol’s home. Hoshi had dropped more than one subtle hint that she would be fine with him handing over one of the bags, but his pride would not allow him to admit defeat, so he soldiered on.

“You could have listened to me, you know,” Trip said smugly as he opened the door for a hard-breathing Malcolm.

“How can you be so bloody cheerful in this heat,” Malcolm grumbled. “I thought you were the one, who hates the desert.”

“You’ll get used to it in a day or two,” Trip said, entering the house. “Now better sit down before you fall down, I’ll get us something to drink.

Hoshi and Malcolm sat down with Hoshi giving the wheezing Brit a smiling head-shake.

“Dammit,” Trip said as he came back, carrying a tray with three glasses of Kasa juice. “One cell of the stasis unit is out.”

“Can you repair it?” Hoshi asked taking one of the glasses.

“Sure,” Trip answered. “But first we have to get rid of a lot of Yon-Savas and Mashya, that shouts ‘lights out!’ at you in Vulcan, when you open the lid.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of that. You do the technical stuff, I’ll do the cleaning,” Hoshi ruled.