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"Captain Sato’s Enterprise"
by Lady Rainbow
Rating: PG-13 This fic will sound strange because of those changes, but please bear with me. Each chapter is told from the POV of a member of the “changed” crew. Reviews/comments are welcome, please:) PS: A big THANK YOU to Pesterfield for pointing out a boo-boo concerning Vulcan weaponry! Thanks again...there's a reason why I'd make a lousy Armory officer. :) Communications Officer Jonathan Archer Jon Archer read the protocols a second time, then a third. With a sigh, he called Captain Sato and Lieutenant Commander Tucker to the Bridge. Nope, I wasn’t seeing things. Trip’s going to have a fit when he sees this. “Is there a problem, Lieutenant?” He glanced at Ensign T’Pol at the helm station. The Vulcan raised one elegant eyebrow at him in curiosity and concern. He managed a slight smile at her; although Vulcan tradition insisted otherwise, he knew that T’Pol had emotions like the rest of them. She only hid it better. “Just read something disturbing in the first contact protocols for the Lurans,” he told her. “I wanted to make sure the captain knew about it before she stepped into trouble.” T’Pol nodded. “That is a wise thing, Lieutenant. What seems trivial to one species is a grave concern to another.” He smiled at her understanding. “You’re definitely correct there, and this might be one of those cases.” Archer glanced over his shoulder as the doors to the lift hissed open and Captain Sato and Lieutenant Commander Tucker came onto the Bridge. Trip gave him a friendly grin and he returned it. The man’s enthusiasm for life was infectious and Archer appreciated it because he saw it in himself. He’s probably the most unlikely Armory Officer in the Fleet, he reflected. If anything, he’d rather talk his way out of situations with his Southern charm, but if that fails, he won’t hesitate to defend the ship and its crew by any means necessary. “What do we have, Lieutenant?” Captain Sato asked. Archer gave her a PADD with the information on it. Tucker leaned on the console and looked over Sato’s shoulder. “According to this, the Lurians are so steeped in tradition that they only allow Luran weapons on the planet. No phase pistols, no phase rifles...just whips and chains.” “Whips and chains?” Hoshi repeated. “Not what you think, Captain,” Jon said, failing to hold back a grin. “Apparently, Luran males wear heavy chains like bandoliers on their chest. It’s a test of manhood, along with the seven swords and daggers they carry around with them...and women carry studded electric whips in leather holders.” Trip muttered something under his breath that Jon didn’t catch, but Hoshi only chuckled in response. “Ahem. Interesting,” she said. “And it gets better, Captain. They allow medical equipment...as long as they’re needles. No hyposprays.” Trip scowled. “What’s up with the sharp points?” Jon’s grin grew wider as he replied, “They consider a ‘point’ the ultimate sign of enlightenment. Mountain peaks come up to a point, for example. One of their holy men was supposed to have sat on a pointed stake for three cycles—that’s thirty-six days—with hardly a scratch.” “Ouch,” Trip muttered. “The guy’s poor butt must’ve been sore.” Hoshi coughed in an attempt to cover her laughter. “Well, you’re going to be armed to the teeth, Trip. That should make you happy.” “Yeah, but I can’t move around under all that weight, Cap’n. That’s like putting a whole suit of armor over your underwear. Chafes ya like all get out.” Jon sighed and scrolled his screen down. “They refer to their security men as “fawh-dehr”. It’s supposed to be a title of respect because it conveys the danger and uncertainty of their position.” “Fawh-dehr? I’m not crazy about being anyone’s fodder, cannon or otherwise.” Hoshi finally lost it and she began to laugh. It spread all over the Bridge, except for T’Pol, who only looked at them with a bemused (and confused) expression. Trip took pity on her and said, “I’ll explain later, T’Pol. I promise.” Jon glanced at Hoshi. “Don’t think you can get away unscathed, Captain,” he said in mock sternness. “The main representative gets to make a speech—“ “Doesn’t sound too difficult.” “—an eight-thousand word affair in three different dialects, and you have to get every stress and intonation completely correct.” Hoshi looked at him. “And I’ve got three days to do this?” “Yes, ma’am. All in three days. Don’t worry, I can help you with it. The Lurans sent over the copies of the welcome speech in all the dialects. Oh, and you’ve got to crack your whip at the appropriate pauses to fight off your admirers—“ “WHAT?” “Oh boy. Malcolm’s gonna have a field day,” Trip muttered again. “I heard that.” Hoshi growled. She sighed and shook her head. “I suppose I’m gonna need whip lessons, then.” “Don’t look at me. That ain’t in my arsenal, and I sure know it ain’t standard equipment in the Armory.” T’Pol cleared her throat. “If I may make a suggestion, Captain?” “Go ahead, Ensign.” “There are Vulcan weapons similar to a whip, such as the ahn-woon. With your and Lieutenant Commander Tucker’s permission, I may be able to help you gain the necessary skills.” Hoshi met T’Pol’s gaze. Jon cleared his throat and added, “That would help a lot, Ensign. I didn’t think about the ahn-woon, but you’re right. It’s a similar enough weapon.” The captain nodded. “All right, then. Time for some ahn-woon lessons. All right with you, Trip?” “Sure, s’long as I get some lessons too. Y’never know when a new skill might come in handy.” Jon tried to hide his smile as T’Pol raised her eyebrow again, but he noticed that she didn’t object to the request. He’d had plenty of opportunity to observe the navigator and the armory officer, and thought there might be a glimmer of more than just friendship there. Opposites attract, I guess. That seems to be going on all over the ship. Trip Tucker and T’Pol. Captain Sato and Doctor Reed. Jonathan Archer did his best to encourage both couples, without making it obvious, of course. He was only a lieutenant, after all, but that seemed to be adequate cover for his efforts. It was his nature to see his friends happy and he took it upon himself to help it happen. “Agreed. My shift is ended in forty minutes. Perhaps we can have a short practice session then?” “That sounds agreeable. Meet me in Cargo Bay Two, Ensign.” “Yes, Captain.” After Sato and Tucker left the bridge, he exchanged a nod with Ensign T’Pol. Then he turned back to the first contact protocols. There seemed to be no more hidden surprises, but he decided to go over it one more time, just in case. |
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