By Buurman

Rating: PG-13

Genres: romance adventure


This story has been read by 510 people.
This story has been read 718 times.

Rating: PG-13, for some bad language (even though the worst word will probably be alien to most of you ;P )

Date: 20070626

Genre: (alluding to) Romance, (light) Action

Archive: Triaxian Silk, please. Other archives may request permission to archive or link to this story by email. (You’ll probably receive green light).

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the characters and background setting from Enterprise. The names and related intellectual property belongs to them. I just try to repair a grave error and make it an entertaining story.

Summary: Starfleet is milking T’Pol’s conscription while Trip has to have a talk with one of his ensigns.


A/N: Here the divergence begins in earnest. Though the idea of a T’Pol being PR-material and a big ceremony was still inspired by Hopeful Romantic’s Reconnecting series (and because it’s such a logical thing to do for Starfleet I can’t cut it).

A/N2: Sorry for the long wait, guys. I hit a writer’s block in that I knew what I wanted to write, but couldn’t quite get it on paper. It was only when I thought of the flashback that I was able to finally move forward.

This story is a sequel to Just Friends.


Captain Archer grabbed Travis’ hand in a powerful grip after pinning his new pips on the young man’s uniform. “I hope you keep up your excellent performance Mr. Mayweather,” Trip heard him say. “Many times I have wished I was born with your skills. It would have made some missions a whole lot easier.”

His long-time friend greeted Hoshi by lifting her hand to his lips. “You truly are the most charming embodiment of danger I have ever encountered. Your skills with languages and codes are indispensable.”

Even as he was watching his friends interact next to him on the small dais and heard the crowd react and cheer for every individual he called to come forward from a side entrance he couldn’t really get into the moment. For some reason, Commander Tucker found himself oddly impatient. He had a sense of being happy for his friends, who had fully earned their promotion to Lieutenant, like a memory of how he once felt, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel that way right now. To him, every promotion was insignificant compared to the last one. Even as he called off the second-to-last name on his list he mentally urged Malcolm to hurry up and get his promotion to Lieutenant Commander over with.

The feeling of déjà vu revisited him as he had the distinct memory of clapping his distinguished British friend on the shoulder even while he lethargically looked at the list instead. Malcolm Reed appeared to have increased his speed as he had already joined the rest of the Enterprise-crew in anticipation of the next, and last, promotion. He savoured the sensation of pronouncing her name. Even though he’d done so on many occasions this time seemed different; it seemed as if he could taste the sound. Without much ado she entered the room and the world came to a stop for him. In seeming slow-motion he watched her gracefully walk the red carpet over to where he and the captain stood. His eyes seemed to ignore the surroundings as well as the cheering crowd as he focused intently on her eyes, her ears, the motion of her body as she walked toward them. The glow in her eyes seemed especially bright today, and as he looked closer she suddenly appeared to be a lot closer. He looked in her sable eyes from up close as she shared a look with him on her way to the captain.

Staring into those eyes he again feels the pain of loss. With a sense of tumbling forward he wills himself to drown in her eyes, but his memory haunts him down and with tears in his eyes he remembers.

He was making the last adjustments to the captain’s chair as he felt her presence next to him. Not daring to look at her for too long he shares only a brief glance with her as he shakily takes the padd she holds out for him. The nearness of her presence scrambles his mind and he looks at the device without really seeing anything. Panicking he hears himself say the words he most definitely didn’t want to say.

“Honeymoon?” she asks but he can tell it’s more from the shock caused by the highly personal nature of his question than from any lack of knowledge. Before he can gather his thoughts enough to apologize the captain comes in and she bolts for her desk. Great, he thinks to himself. Now ye scared her away, ye harebrained nutheaded fool!

The pain of her flight hurts him deep inside as his friend sits down and opens his mouth. But instead of words a shrill sound enters the bridge. He can’t explain what that sound is for or why his vision is suddenly very blurry. Has Malcolm devised a new alarm?

When Commander Charles Tucker the third finally wakes up he’s having problems tracing the source of the sound, until he recognizes it as the alarm set to wake him up in time for his shift.


It’s all he can do to keep himself from cursing out loud as he tries to realign the components of the EPS-conduit he was working on. The steady hum of the engine next to him, normally such a soothing sound, is steadily getting on his nerves as his agitated attempts all fail. With a muffled scream of annoyance the blonde-haired ensign shoved himself backwards by pushing off with two hands from the frame surrounding the access panel he was using.

“Having trouble, Sven?” a clearly amused voice asked him. He wanted to yell at her but managed to restrain himself somewhat.

“No, of course not,” ensign Haster responded sarcastically. “What the hell does it look like?”

“Hey, don’t take it out on me,” Marie Lacrosse said softly. “It’s not my fault, you know.”

With a soft sigh Sven forced himself to relax. “I know,” he said. “I’m just … annoyed because this hoerending doesn’t do what I want it to do.”

“Yeah right. And I supposed your recent encounter with the chief doesn’t have anything to do with it?” she responded with a twinkle in her eyes. “You’ve been awfully quiet ever since, Sven.”

He looked up to see Marie’s eyes on staring at his own and reluctantly he replied with the story he knew she was fishing for. “Commander Tucker told me he had been receiving complaints about me from the engineering crew.”

“Complaints?” she asked.

“About my behaviour. Apparently it upset a good deal of people here in engineering. Furthermore he told me he was wondering how I’d even end up on Enterprise. You know how my grades were,” he said, looking at his former classmate to see her look encouraging him to continue, “and he wondered how someone with such mediocre skills could have made it on Starfleet’s first Warp 5 star ship. I told him I wouldn’t know, to which he replied my file mentioned that each and every one of my former classmates who were assigned to Enterprise put in a request that I be assigned as well.”

She blushed slightly as she averted her eyes. “About your behaviour?” she asked in a soft tone. Nodding, he continued in what she recognised as the formal tone he adopted whenever he found the subject to be embarrassing.

“Apparently, my somewhat hyperactive and overall exuberant behaviour makes people skitterish and uncomfortable. They feel they have to be on the lookout for my unexpected behaviour, or so he told me.” With a small chuckle Sven said: “As he put it, my singing and whistling was ‘drivin’ em crazy’.”

Marie smiled at him sympathetically as he sighed and told her he had promised the commander to keep his behaviour in check.

“Don’t let it take you down Sven,” she told him. “What is that you always say? ‘Khopop’?”

He couldn’t resist. “It’s ‘Kop op’,” he corrected her with a small smile.

“Yeah. Last time I was one of the people who complained about you, remember? I got used to it eventually. Just hang on. It will work out for the best, eventually.”

He smiled weakly and she could tell he wasn’t entirely convinced. An uncomfortable silence remained between them until she changed the subject. “So, anything I can do to help you with this conduit?”


They’ve taken her. She’s ta be sold into slavery. They’re gonna display her like she’s some kinda property. Commander Tucker found it hard to focus his thoughts on anything else while he awaited his captain near the transporter pad. The arrival of Doctor Soong brought him back into the here and now, and suddenly he felt the need to hurt this man who was ultimately the reason why they went to the borderlands and why T’Pol got kidnapped. Unfortunately, his snide remark about the transponder Phlox injected him with didn’t seem to faze the elder man, and Trip didn’t miss the double entendre in the man’s reply. Neither did captain Archer.

How could he know? Was he just lucky guessing? Maybe he just picked up some rumours on Earth. I’ve tried to keep a professional distance now. She’s married. It hurts to see her. It hurts like hell. I don’t want to be away from her, but it’s difficult to be with her.

Luckily for him the captain interrupted his thoughts. He didn’t trust himself to do more than nod in agreement but he understood the captain’s meaning. At least it’ll keep mah mind of things. Sometimes it’s great tah just bury mahself in work.


Being locked in a cell with an angsty young ensign made T’Pol realise once again how important her own behaviour was to those who ranked beneath her. She couldn’t give in to her own fears and feelings of loss after being so abruptly transported off the ship, regardless of her Vulcan need of control.

The captain will come after us. He has always taken similar courses in the past. And I doubt Trip will let him leave us if he tried. They will come. I know it.

Highly illogically she kept repeating it like a mantra to reassure herself. Vulcans don’t let themselves feel anxiety and know without a doubt their superiors will do what is best for all. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

But she wasn’t like every other Vulcan. Right now she had to battle all the emotions Ensign Pierce was displaying in overabundance, only far more powerful than he was feeling them. And in addition to all that she knew she couldn’t show it. Any display of emotion on her face right now would shatter what little control the other crewmembers had left, for if she lost it they were surely doomed, or so they’d think.

When the guard appeared to take her off to the auction block her control was taxed once again. She didn’t take kindly to being displayed and bid upon like a piece of furniture, as she was sure was about to happen. Thinking of her crewmates, and Commander Tucker, quite illogically, made her resolve to not let the indignity of it all affect her, at least visually. She would take it all in stride, confident that it wouldn’t last.

Seeing Commander T’Pol being led off with her head held high and her jaw firm stirred something in Jeffrey Pierce’s chest. He knew he had to follow her example. Straightening his back he took a deep breath and resolved to control his fear.


His jaw set firm in anger captain Jonathan Archer strode purposefully through the corridors of his ship, accompanied by two members of Starfleet security as a precaution. Dr. Arik Soong had a lot of explaining to do. Captain Archer didn’t take kindly to being played by the insufferably arrogant scientist, and the ruthlessness with which the man put his crew at risk in an attempt to create a situation which would make it possible for him to escape ignited a fury Archer thought he had left behind him in the expanse. The good doctor had better start speaking soon.


Oh, and on the scottish debate: Since I have only Trip to go on when it comes to writing southern usa accents, I have probably mingled in some more accents/speech patterns. Probably Irish or American Irish, as in the boston area. Though I did read a few pages of 'Wullie', which is scottish. Hmmm .... now it's a puzzle. I have to beat it! Grrr! :s:D:p
Ah, thanks you all. This is btw the sequel to 'Just Friends', something I forgot to mention in the A/N. Ah well. @Distracted: You're on to something. I'll consider what you said, though frankly I find Trips accent hilariously funny to write, even though it's damn hard to do it consistently. :) And kudo's to panyasan for being the first to claim Sven as a Dutchman. Yes, he is ... hey, what can I say; except for Malcolm we europeans haven't got a lot of representative characters. And the thought of Hoshi speaking all those alien languages but not some obscure european one is just too funny. :D
haha ROFLMAO! Thats odd, why do you think that sounds scottish? Being scottish my self i'd have to say i've never come across such an arrangement of words, "ye harebrained nut-headed fool", in the speech patterns of any fellow scott. Funny!
Very intriguing. I liked how you wrote Trips thoughts. And I have to ask, ;)is Sven native tongue Dutch by any change?
A great beginning! Sometimes Trip sounds more Scottish than southern, though, (ie: "ye harebrained nut-headed fool") and at other times the accent's too thick (all the "mah's"). Maybe go lighter on the dialect in general?
This is an interesting twist on some of the early episodes from season 4. I'm looking forward to your next chapter.
So far, so good. Keep em coming!
A beginning... very intriguing.
very well done. it fits in nicely.

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