Face of the Enemy

Face of the Enemy
by SpaceCowboy

Genre: Action/Angst
Characters: One storyline Trip centered, one storyline Archer centered, but both coinciding.
Rated: PG-13
Disclaimer: All rights, and some of the lefts, reserved by Paramount and all the lucky people associated with Star Trek.
Synopsis: It's a hard lesson to learn; that surfaces can be deceiving, but who's learning the lesson?

Archive and email all ya want.

‘The truth is rarely pure and simple.’
- Oscar Wilde (The Importance of Being Earnest)

Part One

THE GIRL HAD LONG BLOND HAIR. It cascaded down the sides of her face and fell onto her shoulders with such subtly, melting butter would be jealous. The 602 Club was crowded, but Captain Jonathon Archer only saw her amongst the patrons. He was mesmerized, and trying his hardest to remember her name. She kept smiling and waving a hand, making it hard for him to concentrate on anything but her beauty. Which was fortunate, because the captain was not actually on Earth, but rather, sitting on the bridge of the NX-01 Enterprise.

A voice to his left caught his attention, so he shook the daydream from his mind and brought the bridge back into perspective. Sub-Commander T’Pol was looking at him with a single eyebrow arched. “I’m sorry,” he said, discreetly clenching his fists. “Can you repeat that?”

"I'm picking up a faint beacon on a sub-space ban. Would you like Ensign Sato to open a channel?" T’Pol asked, again.

"Do you know where it's coming from?"

"I have not yet determined the exact location of the beacon, but I believe it is coming from off our port bow." T’Pol kept her head down as she worked her fingers over her terminal.

"Hoshi, open that channel. I want to heat it." The captain was looking straight ahead as he gave the order.

Loud static filled the bridge, wherein a faint, high pitched beep could be detected. Archer watched Hoshi frantically trying to control the background noise as the rest of the crew cringed in their seats. She apologized for the mistake, but kept her head low. "Captain, I believe it’s some sort of distress signal," she announced. "My sensors indicate the beacon is about one hundred years old."

"It seems to be trapped in some sort of radiation cloud," added Malcolm. “That’s probably why our sensors are having difficulties separating it from the background turbulence.”

The captain ordered Ensign Mayweather to bring Enterprise to a full stop just outside the perimeter of the radiation cloud. "Hoshi, I want you to filter out the sounds and get a translation on that message." On that, Archer stood and started toward T’Pol's terminal.

Several minutes passed, and while Archer was leaning over T’Pol's shoulder, everyone heard Hoshi make the announcement. "I was able to clarify the message using a sub-space transponder on a low frequency, and the universal translator did the rest. Do you want me to put it on the speakers now?"

The captain nodded and the bridge crew paused to hear the distressed voice of an anonymous alien. "We are in desperate need of assistance. Our planet is collapsing and we do not have sufficient means to rescue all of our population. Time is running out. Please help us save our race. Vhoorminia is located in the Tr'Lax system.” Then it repeated itself until Archer ordered its termination.

He turned to T’Pol with an eyebrow raised. “I’m not familiar with this race, Captain,” replied T’Pol. “Although, I am vaguely aware of the Tr’Lax system. It’s possibly in one of our Vulcan star charts, but I can not be certain.”

Archer dropped his head. “I was actually looking for a little more than that,” he said.

“Perhaps you should ask Doctor Phlox?” suggested T’Pol. “My species is not the only one that has travelled this far. Perhaps the Denobulans have made contact with this planet.”

The captain called for the doctor, then moved to the middle of the bridge. He drummed his fingers against his thigh, anxiously awaiting his arrival. “This just might be the break from boredom we need,” he said with a smile. “It’s been awhile since something interesting has come along.”

"Captain, you're not actually considering going to Vhoorminia are you? This beacon is one hundred years old," stated Malcolm.

"Ninety- eight point five to be exact," corrected T’Pol.

Archer looked disconcertingly at his security officer. "Mr. Reed, I don’t see any harm in seeing what we can do."

"But we're about one hundred... Sorry, ninety-eight point five years too late. There's probably nothing left of Vhoorminia to save."

"Probably, being the operative word, Mr. Reed," the captain stated. "I'm just going to find out if we are on course with this planet. Phlox may know something, and I want to exercise all my options before dismissing this."

T’Pol raised her head from her console. "Captain, there may be some validity to Lieutenant Reed’s point. After ninety-eight point five years, one must assume the race has already been saved or destroyed."

The turbo lift doors opened and everyone turned. "Ah, Captain, you called?" sang the doctor, stepping onto the bridge.

“I've asked you here to help make some sense of a distress signal we've stumbled upon. Hoshi would you play back the message please," replied Archer, by way of quashing the voiced concerns.

With the touch of a finger, the communication’s officer filled the bridge with the recorded message. Phlox stood still and listened. When it was over, his posture remained the same, but his face expressed confusion.

"Is there something wrong?" Archer asked.

Phlox crossed his arms behind his back and approached the forward view screen. "Well, I've heard of the Vhoorminians," he replied, then turned a questioning look back at Archer. "Are we not in orbit above Vhoorminia?"

The captain joined him at the view screen. "No, we just triggered a beacon and were wondering where the Vhoorminian home system is located. Are we on course to intercept with this planet?"

“From what I recall, since the last time I checked our position, we are relatively close to the Morix system,” replied Phlox.

"Tr’Lax," Malcolm corrected.

The Denobulan didn't understand. "Tr’Lax?"

"Tr’Lax. Vhoorminia is located in the Tr’Lax system. You said Morix. I was just correcting you."

Phlox inclined his head, and then raised a finger. "No, I think I should correct you. Vhoorminia is in the Morix system. I'm sure of this."

"All due respect, Doctor," started Malcolm. "Maybe you should check you're hearing. The beacon clearly stated Vhoorminia was located in the Tr'Lax system. Would you like Ensign Sato to play it back for you?" Malcolm looked to his captain for assistance. Archer nodded to Hoshi, who knew that meant to replay the beacon.

"We are in desperate need of assistance. Our planet is collapsing and we do not have sufficient means to rescue all of our population. Time is running out. Vhoorminia is located in the Tr’Lax system. Please help us save our race.” End of replay.

"I told you," Malcolm said, with a smug grin.

"Doctor, are you still convinced you're previous statement is true?" prodded Archer.

"Well, yes. I know what I heard, but I'm quite certain the planet I planned to vacation on several years back is located in the Morix system. I’d heard the planet is just astonishing, and the landscape just breathtaking.”

Archer rubbed his temples methodically. Was the probe inaccurate? Had the Vhoorminians already been relocated? Was this a trap? Was the doctor wrong? Why was the probe still here, and why couldn’t they save all of their population? Archer couldn’t concentrate on one question, let alone all of them.

"T’Pol, I want a complete sensor sweep of that probe,” he finally said. “Find out all you can about it. Hoshi, double check the universal translator to see if maybe it interpreted the distress signal wrong. I know it’s highly unlikely, but I don't have much to go on right now." Then he glanced over his shoulder at the security officer. "Lieutenant Reed, please assemble the senior officers. We'll convene in half an hour in the briefing room. Phlox, I‘d like you there as well.”

~

Commander Charles ‘Trip’ Tucker the III was pacing main engineering, his arms folded tightly across his chest. For a crew deteriorating into monotony, engineering was quite the opposite. With all this spare time, Trip had decided to completely overhaul the ship’s engines. A job that was now proving to be very tedious, and very frustrating when his entire staff had nothing but adventure stuck on their minds.

In his frustrated state, Trip didn't even hear Malcolm walk up behind him. "What now?!" he snapped at the sound of his name. His face suddenly softened when he noticed it wasn’t one his staff coming to complain, yet again.

"Having a good day, are we?” asked Malcolm. “It seems I’m not the only one on edge these days. We've been cooped up a lot longer than I thought.”

Trip sighed and redirected his eyes to the warp drive. "It's just hectic down here, that's all,” he replied. “I want the warp drive at full operational status, but the captain’s been flying at warp two for the past few days. Doesn't he understand the complexities of these repairs are just intensified on the fly? I wanna find something out here as much as he does, but we'll all have to get out and push if he doesn’t allow my staff to do this overhaul.” He turned away and leaned against the rail surrounding the matter-anti-matter containment field. He raised his head and stared at the ceiling, letting out a deep breath. "Why have we stopped anyway?" he asked.

Malcolm explained, in detail, the accounts of finding the distress beacon, and the confusion as to where the planet resides. Trip said he would be in the briefing room by 1300h, but first he wanted to get engineering organized. His crew seemed to think that since Enterprise was at full stop, that meant they could also come to a full stop. Trip had other plans. He turned and strode briskly across the room, shouting orders over his shoulders to anyone who had the displeasure of being in close proximity to him.

~

By 1300h all the senior officers had collected in the briefing room. T’Pol had taken her usual spot to the left of the captain. Trip had taken his spot directly across from T’Pol, with Lieutenant Reed standing to his right. Phlox had situated himself on the end of the table with Ensigns Sato and Mayweather.

The captain rested his hands on the table and leaned forward. He gazed from face to face as he spoke. "Hoshi, any luck with the translator?" he asked, steadying his eyes on the young ensign’s face.

Hoshi stiffened. "The translator seems to have translated the message accurately, sir."

The captain had expected as much, so he turned his attention to the Vulcan without further debate. "T’Pol, what have you learned about the probe?"

T’Pol drew in a steady breath and straightened her shoulders. “The probe does not mention alternate coordinates,” she started. “This might suggest the planet was destroyed rather than rescued. Otherwise, the Vhoorminians would have stated the coordinates of their new home world- in order for them to be reunited. But upon further contemplation I have surmised otherwise. There is a very probable chance the Vhoorminians were rescued, or at least some of them.” She paused to step forward. "It would seem that both Mr. Reed and Doctor Phlox were correct about the location of the planet."

"How's that possible? How can a planet have two different locations?" Trip asked.

"It is quite simple actually," continued T’Pol. "The original planet was located in the Tr'Lax system. This is the planet which was speculatively destroyed. And in the distress call it clearly stated the Vhoorminians could not save all of their population."

With a nod, Archer finished T’Pol's explanation. "Which would suggest that some did survive."

"Correct. One could assume the Vhoorminians who did manage to escape their collapsing planet, re-colonized in the Morix system and named it after its home world. The beacon was most likely placed during the re-colonization- as they were still unaware of their final destination.”

"But why didn't the Vhoorminian's go back to help the one's that couldn't make it? Why only save some of their population?" inquired Trip.

Phlox raised a finger to interrupt. "If I remember correctly, and I think I do. The Tr'Lax system is very desolate. There is only one small sun, and most of the planets do not sustain life. They would’ve had to leave their system to seek a new home world. As for the second question, I don't know. Perhaps there wasn’t enough time.”

"Have you ever encountered the Vhoorminians?" asked Hoshi.

"Well, no,” replied Phlox, placing his hands on the table. "While I was attending a convention for the Inter-Species Medical Exchange, I often heard talk of the Klingons and Vhoorminians. Several species had tried to conduct trade with them, especially the Klingons, but became extremely frustrated trying to work through their governmental system. Apparently it is very tedious.”

Hoshi looked across at Phlox. "Why would the Klingons bother to go through their governmental system? From our experiences with them, I would think they would simply take what they wanted."

"The Vhoorminians have very sophisticated ground-to-orbit weaponry," replied Phlox, tilting his head to face the entire table. “A friend of mine who visited Vhoorminia- actually he was the one who suggested my vacationing there, described how the Vhoorminians fear space travel, or any type of air travel. They prefer to stay on their planet. And this weapon is their only protection from space invaders."

“It must be some protection,” drawled Trip. “If it can keep the Klingons from invading.”

"Are we to assume these Vhoorminians are a hostile, xenophobic society?" asked Malcolm.

Phlox waved his hands in front of his face. "No, no, no no, on the contrary. They are quite hospitable and friendly, albeit aviophobic. They just need to protect themselves. Not all races with superior technology and weapons are hostile.”

Malcolm tightened his lips and nodded. "Point taken."

Archer chewed on the corner of his lip, his fingers drumming on the table. "Doc, how far exactly are we from the Morix system?” he asked. “And what is their level of technology? We’ve had too many problems lately with underdeveloped races, and I‘m not so sure I want to open that can of worms right now."

Phlox slowly responded- the eyes of everyone present bearing down on him. "It's maybe a half day off course, a few mere light years. As for their technology, I would say it’s close to that of Earths. They are quite further along in some aspects, and much behind in others. But overall I would say equal. Why, may I ask?"

"Well, if this Vhoorminia is as beautiful as you say, and its inhabitants are hospitable, I might just consider some shore leave for my well deserving crew.” The room seemed to breathe easier when Archer mentioned that.

"Captain," interrupted T’Pol. "I would be remiss if I did not mention the probe also has a homing device programmed into its system. It is curious as to why the Vhoorminians have not retrieved it after ninety-eight point five years?"

"Maybe we should ask them in person?” suggested Archer, with a smile. “I’d like to see this planet and possibly grant some shore leave. I've seen a lot of tension lately on this ship, and it would be nice to see some of it relieved."

~

After dismissal, Trip left the briefing area in a hurry to make the announcement to his staff. But as he stepped up to the next level, he inadvertently bumped into Hoshi Sato. “Sorry, Hosh,” he mumbled, pausing to let her pass.

“It’s a whole new language to learn,” she beamed, her eyes staring through him. “Possibly even more. They could have thousands of dialects.”

Trip laughed softly. Of course Hoshi would think of that. A new planet; a new species to explore with different customs and behaviours, and Hoshi would concentrate on the language- and language alone. A million things to do and see, and Trip figured she would spend the whole time with her face in a book, or conversing with a native not about life, but syntax. If anyone on this ship needed a vacation from duties, Trip felt it was her. The woman had a one track mind, and one he’d never been able to break. “Maybe this trip you should try…”

He was cut off when Hoshi grabbed him by his shoulders- her eyes wide with excitement. “Imagine, sir. Another language to add to my collection. I’m gonna have to expand the UT soon if this keeps happening.” Then she let go and continued toward her station.

“What’ll that make now,” Trip said to himself. “Four thousand and twenty-nine?” He shook his head and stepped up to the turbo-lift. “Why do I even bother askin’?” he mumbled, pressing the call button.

(More to Come)

Continue to Part 2

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