Chapter 4: Chain Of Command

T'Pol entered her quarters after finishing her shift and – quite illogically – she tried to raise the temperature. She knew that Commander Tucker would not modify her environmental controls until after they had dined with the captain, but considering the almost exaggerated effort on behalf of the humans to integrate her into the crew, she wouldn't have been surprised if he had somehow devised a way to make the necessary adjustments earlier.

While that theory had just been disproved, she was nonetheless most satisfied with her first few days on the human ship. The crew of Enterprise were people who wanted to explore and therefore were considerably more open-minded and more willing to accept an alien among them than many other humans she had met over the years. Captain Jonathan Archer was known to be skeptical about Vulcans and considering the efforts of the High Command to delay the launch of the human ship, it came as no surprise that he harbored resentments. His father had been the principal designer of the engine and had been denied the chance to witness the launch of his design by illness, but also due to the stalling tactics of the High Command.

Commander Tucker was difficult to understand. He seemed quite willing to help, when help was needed and he seemed to possess better knowledge about Vulcans than his captain, but he also seemed to be compelled to turn even trivial situations into something he could amuse himself with. He was the only one, who had given thought to the strain the odor of humans would put on her olfactory senses, yet he did so with a device that made her appearance amusing to him. On the other hand she had seen two humans use the same clamp, when she had inspected the recycling facilities deep in the belly of the ship, so there was the possibility that they simply preferred function over form, even if it made them look ungainly. It was a topic worthy of contemplation.

Lieutenant Reed – according to the information she had been given by Soval – was a former operative in a secretive human organization that even the V'Shar had little information about. The control he possessed over his emotion was impressive and she wondered if he had been posing as a Vulcan at some point of time in his former assignment. She made a mental note to herself that she needed to ask him to certify her for use of human hand weapons. Even if her assignment should remain a temporary one, there was a possibility that they could find themselves in a combat situation and she would be at great risk if she had not been instructed in the handling of their small arms.

Ensign Sato was so far the most accommodating of her new ship mates. It was the same young woman she had once met in a human shop. She had helped her procure human clothes that would help conceal her physique to reduce undue attention from human males. Interestingly, for herself the young human had selected clothing that achieved the exact opposite. She looked much too young to be an officer, even though according to her service record she was indeed twenty-two years of age. That was young, but quite old enough for a posting as an officer by human standards.

Interestingly, her service record also mentioned that she was currently on a two-year probation period. The ensign would be dishonorably discharged from Starfleet if she would be charged with any further offenses. The record did not mention what offense she had been charged with in the first place. That was most unusual, even for humans. Her instincts as a former operative in the Ministry of Security told her that something about this situation did not seem correct. She had seen such cases in the High Command forces before. Mentioning the offenses that led to charges was only omitted if those charges were fabricated or if mentioning the offense would implicate higher ranking officers in wrong-doing. She decided to keep a watchful eye over the young female in case she would be unfairly targeted by Starfleet. The ensign had gone 'out of her way', as humans used to say, to help her and it was the least she could do in return.

A glance at the clock informed her that her reflection on some of her fellow officers left her only thirty minutes to prepare for dinner with the captain and Commander Tucker.

A loud bang resounded in Engineering

"Ow, shit, goddammit!" the chief swore. "Shit, that hurts!"

Two crewmen came running, grabbed the commander's leg and dragged him out of the access hatch. He was clutching his bleeding right hand. With a trained eye Lieutenant Anna Hess, his second in command and the department's dedicated first-aider, inspected the wound and applied a makeshift bandage.

"Billy, bring him to sick bay," she ordered and the crewman escorted the chief toward the medical facilities.

Trip entered sickbay still clutching his right wrist. It didn't help in any way with the damned pain, but somehow gave him a feeling of security, knowing that his hand was still where it was supposed to be.

"Ah, my first patient," the doctor greeted him, entirely too cheerful for the situation. He was of a species he had not see before. Prominent ridges ran from his high forehead around the eyes to his cheek. A smaller upside-down Y-shaped ridge adorned his chin.

"I had a bit of an argument with a plasma flow regulator. I lost," Trip groaned when the doctor peeled the bandage off. It was by now soaked through already.

The doctor inspected the would and came back with a shallow bowl containing a clear liquid.

Trip was still wondering what it was, when the doctor grabbed his wrist and wordlessly dunked his hand into it. He almost passed out when his whole hand seemed to be on fire.

"Ow shit!" he growled "What the hell is that, acid?!"

"The pain will subside quickly," the doctor answered, still infuriatingly cheerful.

Soon the burning sensation went away and his hand was now buzzing like it used to do when he came back inside after playing in the snow without gloves as a child. The nurse, a pretty young woman started bandaging his hands. He smiled at her apologetically. His language had not exactly been of the diplomatic kind.

"Two days and it will be as good as new," she said and smiled back at him.

"Thanks, crewman," he said and hopped off the biobed, before addressing the doctor. "What's the verdict? Do I get to keep the hand, doctor?"

"Just some burns," the alien said and flashed him an impossibly wide smile. "But I suggest you settle your arguments with your technology by different means in the future."

Trip laughed. "I'm Commander Tucker. Will probably not be the last time we meet. Engineering is not exactly the safest place, especially with so much experimental technology around."

"I'm prepared," the doctor answered, still grinning.

"Do you have something to put over the bandage to keep it dry? I've got dinner with the Captain in twenty minutes and I need to take a shower beforehand."

"Thanks doc," he said and took the plastic cover that he was handed by the alien. "By the way, you are... ?"

"Phlox, my name is Phlox."

"Commander Tucker, pleased to meet you, doc."

Jon saw a pattern developing here. The steward had already started arranging the plates and cutlery and there was still no sign of Trip. He was sitting at the head of the table. His science officer was sitting ramrod straight to to the left of him. Trip's place was to his right. Finally the door opened and Trip walked into the room, his right hand bandaged.

"Sorry, Cap'n," he started to apologize, but Jon cut him off by raising his hand.

"What happened?" he asked, pointing at the bandage.

"Got too cocky, that's what happened," Trip said. "Thought I could rip out a plasma flow regulator and push the new one in fast enough so I don't need to reroute plasma flow. I was wrong."

Jon laughed. Trip had always had a knack for trying to get things done faster than others.

"Why do we need to replace parts already?" he asked. "We haven't even left space dock."

"Because most of the parts seem to have been delivered by the lowest bidder. Those regulators are just fine at warp four. But this is supposed to be a warp 5 ship. If we try to go faster than four point five half of engineering will blow up in our face. They just assumed that we won't go over four point five anyway."