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"We Came, We Saw..."
Rating: PG Lieutenant Rebeka Wagner sat down at the only seat open in the mess hall, glancing at Lieutenant Reed and Commander Tucker at the table next to her. She had planned on reading letters from home during her lunch, however their conversation instantly sparked her interest. So she ignored her conscience nagging her about eavesdropping and listened to them while she ate. “I can’t believe they would just dump their refuse there,” Malcolm said. “It’s not like garbage though. It’s more like…old ships, hovercrafts, parts from industrial plants, that kind of stuff. The reusable trash they recycle on the planet. I guess it’s gotta go somewhere. Beside, most of the moon looks like a quarry anyway. The only vegetation is at the poles and is just enough to give it an atmosphere. They said they’ve tracked some severe storms across the surface but that’s during their growing season, which isn’t for another three or four months. They’ve never spotted any living thing bigger than what they call sand worms. T’Pol said those are about size of an earth worm and look like them.” “Our moon, but with an atmosphere. I guess it’s an ideal location to dump refuse.” Malcolm smiled. Trip shrugged his eyebrows. “Cap’n’s gonna talk to ‘em in a few hours and see if he can arrange a meet and greet for tomorrow.” “Are you going?” “Plan to. Want to. We have nothing to do. It’s been kind of boring having three weeks with no one attacking us. Having everything caught up has made me have to invent things for my crew to do just to keep them from getting bored. We have real clean couplings.” Both men laughed. “Well, I’d better go see who’s standing around twiddling their thumbs in the armory.” Malcolm started stacking his dishes and utensils on his tray. “My crew have been utterly bored and have been taking to tendencies of mucking around.” “So you’re earning the title of Tyrant ‘Munitions Officer?” “’fraid so. Good day, Commander.” “See ya ‘round,” Trip replied. Rebeka watched Lieutenant Reed walk away and glanced at Trip. She looked back at her plate; an idea was beginning to form and grow in her mind, causing a smile to grow the more she worked out the details and thought about it. “Is he cute?” Rebeka looked up. Trip was watching her with a grin. “Excuse me, sir?” “I asked if he’s cute? The guy that’s got you smilin’ like that.” Rebeka laughed. “Not a man, sir. I’m just brainstorming.” “I do that too. Usually when I’m in between sleep and awake and not over spaghetti.” Trip laughed. “But hey, whatever works.” She smiled. “Spaghetti and marinara sauce has a tendency to spark the imagination. Didn’t you read that research report?” Trip laughed. “Wait a minute. Who are you? When’d you replace my robotics mechanic?” Rebeka laughed. “Shh, sir. Don’t tell anyone. We’re being replaced by clones one by one.” Trip laughed. He started gathering up his lunch dishes onto his tray. “I’ll keep that secret between us.” Trip stood with his tray. “Have a good day Beka.” “Good day, sir.” Rebeka looked back at her plate, working on her idea again. # “Captain Archer!” Archer and Trip turned, watching Rebeka run up to them. She stopped, panting lightly. “Captain, may I have a brief word with you before you speak with the Ilterian council?” “Very brief.” “There are several of us that are up for shore leave the next chance we get if I recall correctly.” “Yeah. We just haven’t been anywhere for that. Why?” “Well, I was wondering if you would permit us shore leave while you are visiting the planet.” “You want to take shore leave on the planet?” “No, sir. The moon.” “The moon?” Trip and Archer both asked. She grinned. “Yes. I guessed you may need to ask permission from the Ilterians however and as you will be speaking with them straight away, I was hoping you could ask permission now, sir. Would that be possible?” “The moon?” Archer asked again. She nodded, her excitement causing her to bite down on her bottom lip when she grinned again. Archer looked at Trip. Trip shrugged. He looked back at Rebeka. “The moon?” Archer asked for the third time. “Yes, sir.” “I’ll…ask. They’re going to want to know why. Can you give me a brief answer as to why you want to take people to the moon? It’s a junkyard. You know that, right?” “Exactly!” Rebeka grinned. “Quite lovely, actually. Just tell them,” Rebeka thought for a moment. “Tell them we are going to exercise our creativity and build team spirit!” Archer stared at the woman. He had come to know Rebeka quite well since she was part of Trip’s senior staff. She was a genius with an amazing grasp on robotic mechanics and had a solid understanding of warp technology. She was also a pretty low-key woman who thought things through calmly and thoroughly. He had never known her to do anything outrageous. And while she was more prone to laughing at a joke than her mellow demeanor let on, he had never seen her as excited or giddy as she was right now. “I’ll ask. I’ll let you know.” “Oh thank you, sir. Good day, sirs.” Rebeka turned on her toe and walked away with a high spring in her step. “You’re hair-brainess is bleeding over onto your crew, Trip.” “That ain’t mine, Cap’n,” Trip retorted. “I haven’t a clue what she wants to do down there on that moon.” Archer turned and continued walking. Trip waited until Rebeka was out of sight before following. # Archer leaned on the situation room console and wrapped up the meeting adding, “T’Pol will have the bridge in my absence and Travis will be second in command.” T’Pol and Malcolm both looked at Archer. “Are you posting me somewhere in your absence, sir?” Malcolm asked. “Yes. You’re going with twenty-seven crewmen to the moon as the senior officer in charge. And I sure hope you can get more information out of them than I’ve gotten.” Archer looked at Malcolm. “They are as giddy as school kids going on a field trip right now.” “The…moon…sir?” Archer held up his hands. “Lieutenant Wagner asked if the crewmen who are up for shore leave could take it now if they wanted to and that their destination was the moon. The council didn’t have a problem with it. She said they were going to be exercising their creativity and building team spirit. I’ve asked every single crewman on this list what they were going to do down there.” Archer handed Malcolm a PADD. “And all they’ve told me so far is they’re going to build things, blow things up, smash things and try not to kill each other. The last one is the only one you’re really in charge of making sure doesn’t happen. I would prefer them not to blow up the moon, too.” “Oh. It sounds like fun,” Malcolm said with very little enthusiasm. “I’ll let you know when I know.” “Don’t worry about it. I trust them. Just make sure you take Likos in case they need a doctor, heaven forbid.” “Yes, sir.” “Okay, so, that’s everything. I have to go get ready to leave. Trip, meet me at shuttle pod two in ten minutes.” “Yes, sir.” And the meeting adjourned. # Archer and Trip stood as soon as the shuttle pod stopped moving and exited the craft. “Can I comment now?” Trip asked. “Boring. Very, very, very, boring.” Archer smiled at Trip. They stepped out of the launch bay and Archer looked both directions. “Something wrong?” Trip asked. “Navta’s usually waiting at the door.” “Guess you’re not loved any more,” Trip teased. Archer smiled. “The Ilterians had their moments,” Trip continued. “Not many, very briefly, but they had their moments. I mean, look at the technology exchange here.” Trip held up the PADDs he was carrying. “Yeah.” Archer looked back down the hall. “She’s probably playing somewhere.” “No. There’s something…” Archer stopped. “Do you notice how quiet it is?” “The engines are idle. It’s always quiet when they’re idle.” “No…” Archer looked both directions. “Where’s my crew?” Trip looked both directions, realizing for the first time that they hadn’t seen one person pass since they came on board. “And why was Ensign Shipper at the COM?” Archer looked at Trip. “I just realized that. Hoshi isn’t assigned any days off until next Sunday.” Trip shrugged. “How should I know? I’ve been with you.” Archer walked to a companel and pressed it. “Archer to the Bridge.” “Bridge here,” Shipper replied. Archer immediately heard the laugh Ensign Shipper was trying to erase from his voice. “Ensign, where is Ensign Sato?” “Uhm…the mess hall…no, no. She’s in Lieutenant Reed’s quarters.” “Why?” “Uhhh…” “Ensign.” “We’re…watching…uhm…here’s Sub-Commander T’Pol.” “Captain,” T’Pol said. “What’s going on, T’Pol?” “Since all current and backlogged assignments have been caught up, and most of the crew have not had time off in several months, I permitted them to watch the competition on the moon.” “Competition?” “Yes. I also permitted an additional six more crewmen to take their shore leave this week.” “I’m gone four days and my ship falls to pieces!” Archer leaned his shoulder against the wall. “What competition?” “Currently two of the teams are engaged in developing and building a glider craft that one crewman must pilot and must become airborne after a descent down an incline. The teams of crewmen that can sustain the longest flight time will compete against the remaining winning teams.” “I repeat, what competition?” “The exercise of creativity Lieutenant Wagner told you of. They are engaged in a competition in which they must build various machines using only the junk on the moon. They will then use the machines they created in a variety of competitions. They are competing in teams of four and currently two of the last three teams are preparing for competition. The flight of their crafts will commence in one hour and we have been watching both teams racing to complete their craft before the time is up.” Archer looked at Trip with a grin. “Any new teams going to enter on the next round?” “Yes. There is one more team of four that will compete against a selected team.” “You wanna join, don’t you?” Trip asked. Archer nodded. “Is Ensign Alonzo still on board, T’Pol?” Trip asked. “Yes.” “And Ensign Walters?” “Yes.” “You know where they’re at?” “Both are watching in the mess hall.” “Great. Get a hold of who ever is in charge down there and tell them one more team is coming down. Archer out.” Archer tapped the companel twice. “Archer to the mess hall.” “Yes, sir?” someone answered. “Get Ensigns Walters and Alonzo to the COM.” There was brief pause. “Sir?” the two men answered. “We’re going down to join in the fun, Ensigns. Meet us at shuttle pod two in fifteen minutes.” “Yes, sir!” one of the men replied happily. “Got get changed. Meet you there.” Archer patted Trip’s arm as he hurried past him. Trip threw up his hands. “So much for debriefing!” # “No, no,” Trip said walking up behind Archer. “Weld this brace like this.” Trip showed Archer how he wanted it welded. “Got it?” “No,” Archer smiled up at Trip. “Trip!” Ensign Walters called. “Don’t start or you’re flying it.” Trip turned. “Yeah, Reuben?” “Will this work?” Rueben held up two sheets of flimsy metal. Travis ran into the area Trip’s team was working in. “You have an hour and a half,” Travis said. “How’s things going?” “He thinks this’ll fly,” Archer answered, glancing back at Trip. Trip looked down at him. “That’s it. You’re piloting.” “Can’t change pilots, sirs.” Travis turned and ran out of the area “I’m the captain. I can change anything!” Archer went back to welding. From the other side of the craft Ensign Alonzo’s head popped up and he looked at Archer. Alonzo pulled his sunglasses down his nose, looking up at Trip. “Is he safe to work with, Trip? He’s developing a serious God complex.” Trip lightly smacked the back of Archer’s head with the back of his hand. “More work, less talk, grunt.” Archer grunted in response. The four men continued working, joking and playfully bickering as they constructed their glider. “Captain,” Travis reappeared. “Yeah?” Trip and Archer asked. “Captain Archer.” Travis smiled, handing Archer a communicator. Archer sat down, pulling his sunglasses off and setting them on top of his head. He wiped his grimy hands on his even grimier pants legs and took the communicator from Travis. “Archer here,” Archer said into the communicator. “I was wondering if you would like me to contact the council,” T’Pol said. “For what?” “I assumed you and your crew would like to complete your competition. Since it is taking a total of twelve hours to complete each round, it will take approximately two weeks to complete this competition.” Archer thought. “Don’t base that decision on us winning, sir,” Ensign Walters warned from the other side of the glider. “That’d make us look like sore losers.” “Besides,” Trip added. He crouched down to work on fitting a rudder on the back of the glider, “We’re a science vessel of exploration. I think this thing does a good job of covering all areas there. The Ilterians have patrol ships along their space borders, so no one will be attacking us any time soon. And while not the most thrilling race in the galaxy, they are friendly and gracious. Maybe invite them for tea when we lose.” Trip looked around the glider at Archer. “Or a cold beer.” Archer chuckled. “Yeah. Tell ‘em…I dunno. You’ll tell them something good. Archer out.” Archer closed the communicator and handed it to Travis. “Half hour,” Travis said as he left. “The wings are done!” Trip cried. Archer and Alonzo looked back, watching Walters and Trip carrying the wings over to the glider body. “The brace isn’t.” Archer turned back to his work. He ducked when the two lifted the wings up and started bolting them onto the top. Malcolm appeared at the front of their work area. “Okay team Crazy Men, times up. You fly tomorrow morning at eight.” The four sat down on the ground with a unison sigh. “How good does team Bad Dog’s glider look?” Trip asked Malcolm “It could be an interesting match.” Malcolm walked up and flicked the doll hanging off the front of the glider’s top brace. “Interesting decoration choice.” “It’s his fault.” Archer, Trip and Alonzo pointed at Walters. “Well, supper is ready.” Malcolm turned and left the area. “And tomorrow we get to see if we can kill Trip,” Alonzo laughed. “Thanks!” Trip got up. “I’m going to contest those rules of theirs. I’m making one of you three risk your neck.” “I DIDN’T SAY ANTHING BAD!” Walters protested while he laughed. “No, but you hit my hand with a wrench.” The four laughed. Archer held his hand up to Trip. Alonzo and Walters did the same. “Babies!” Trip laughed at them, helping them to their feet. The four left their craft to join the rest of crew that was camping on the moon during their junkyard wars. # Archer crouched down to tighten a couple bolts at the base of the glider. “Is this brain bucket safe?” Trip asked as he fastened the strap of a helmet under his chin and into the buckle on the side of the helmet “According to the scans it is.” Archer stood, dropping the wrench in a toolbox. “Teams ready?” Travis yelled through a loud horn. Archer turned, cheering with his team “Okay team Crazy Men, position your glider.” Archer turned and helped push the glider to the starting line. He patted Trip’s helmet. “Ready under there?” “I’m ready to die,” Trip said, looking down the long descent he was aimed for. Archer leaned on the frame. “Trip, are ya ready or not?” “Oh…sure.” Trip shrugged. Archer turned and gave Travis thumbs up. “Launch as soon as you’re ready.” Travis replied. “Okay, here goes nothing.” Archer grabbed a brace. “Ready men?” Walters grabbed the brace at the back and Alonzo grabbed the brace on the opposite side. “On your mark.” Alonzo told Archer. “One…two…THREE!” The three started running, pushing the glider toward the hill. At the launch mark they let go, fell back and cheered. The glider rolled down the hill and slowly began to gain altitude. It glided for several meters before coming down with a hard thump and rolling to a stop. Trip hopped out, ripped of his helmet and shook his fist in joy. “Okay, clear the runway,” Travis ordered. The three ran down and together the team pushed the glider to the side. They stood back beside their glider, watching team Mad Dog get ready to launch. The team pushed the glider toward the launch line and let go. The glider rolled less than a meter and began to gain altitude. It soared silently past the point Archer’s team’s glider had stopped and floated back down to a gentle landing twenty meters away. “AH!” Alonzo cried. “I can’t believe it!” Archer laughed. “Guess we get to observe. Let’s get this back to the top.” The four pushed their glider up the hill to be parked beside the six gliders from the previous contest. “Sir,” Malcolm called as he ran up to Archer. “Sir,” Malcolm panted, “The councilors are here.” “What councilors?” “The Ilterians.” Trip and Archer both looked at Malcolm with horrified face. “What?” Archer asked. Malcolm swallowed and caught his breath. “They arrived ten minutes before you were to launch. I offered to get you for them but they insisted on letting the competition continue undisturbed. I invited them to have lunch with us and they’ve graciously accepted, however they would like to see you now. They’re waiting over there.” Malcolm pointed in the direction. Archer shaded his eyes, seeing the four Ilterians standing beside Travis. He looked down at his dirty and grease streaked clothes. “Tell them I’ll be with them shortly, Malcolm. I can’t talk to them like this.” “Very good, sir.” Malcolm turned and ran back toward the Ilterians. “What’d’ya think they want?” Trip asked. “Hell if I know.” Archer turned and trotted toward the field of tents set up in an area the crew had cleared. He slipped into his tent and hurried to clean up and change into some clean clothes. He cursed himself for not thinking to bring his uniform down, but then, he hadn't expected a surprise visit from the Ilterians. An idea hit Archer suddenly. He patted around his and Trip’s sleeping bags for his communicator and found it under discarded clothes at the back. He flipped it open. “Archer to Enterprise.” “Enterprise,” T’Pol replied. “I have an odd request for you, T’Pol.” “Yes?” “Go to my quarters, get one of my uniforms and transport it to my coordinates.” “May I inquire why?” “No. Just do it.” “Right away.” Archer closed the communicator and sat down to wait. He looked around when he heard a noise and watched his uniform form beside him. Archer pulled his uniform on and headed back to the competition area at a jog. Archer Malcolm standing with the four Ilterians councilors Yersha, Ilep, Ratel and Karse. Archer stopped in front of them, extended his hand and shaking each of their hands. Archer noticed Malcolm looking him up and down but kept his attention focused on the Ilterians. “Councilors. It’s a pleasure to meet with you once again. I apologize for not being here to greet you when you arrived.” “You were competing. It is acceptable. We have come to observe,” Councilor Karse informed Archer. “Observe…” Archer smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. Observe what?” “Your competition,” the councilor motioned toward the gliders. Archer looked at the gliders and then back at the councilors. When he had met with them on their home world six days ago he had learned fast that while they were not without emotions like Vulcans, they were serious by nature and very little moved them. So to have them interested in this odd competition Lieutenant Wagner had invented was a jarring shock. “Certainly. Please, join us for lunch.” Archer motioned toward the buffet of sandwiches, chips and drinks that had been set out. The four started walking toward the table, Archer falling in beside them. The five reached the table and Archer stepped into line in behind Rebeka. “What is this competition called?” Councilor Ilep asked, looking at Archer. Archer looked at him with a blank look. He didn’t know what Rebeka or any of the others called this. “Back home we called it Junkyard Wars,” Archer heard Rebeka say. “That does appear to be what everyone here is calling it so it must have been a rather popular past time world wide.” Archer looked at her. She and a crewman beside her were talking about the competition. Archer smiled, looking back at Councilor Ilep. “Junkyard Wars,” Archer answered. He looked back at Rebeka. She stopped to pick up a drink, looking back at him. Rebeka winked and then turned to follow the crewman she had been talking with. Archer turned with his plate and drink and led them to a shaded spot where Malcolm was setting up chairs for them. “Your Sub-Commander submitted your request to remain on the moon for the remainder of this competition,” Councilor Karse said. “Yes. Will it be a problem?” “We find no problem with the request. We have been quite entertained watching you’re crew since they have begun this competition. We are interested to see how it concludes. Would it be distracting if we were to send a couple of our people that cover the events? Unfortunately your broadcasts are a bit weak and we cannot receive them clearly.” Archer swallowed the bite of ham and cheese sandwich in his mouth, hiding his surprise behind a smile. “It wouldn’t be a problem at all.” “They should be arriving shortly. We additionally were hoping you would allow two more teams to compete. We have already selected two groups of four. They will be with the broadcast crew as we anticipated you would allow them to compete.” “That would be wonderful. I’ll inform our judges as soon as lunch is over. Would you like to replace one or two of the judges with your own?” “That won’t be necessary.” Archer nodded once. “I certainly did enjoy watching the first team,” Councilor Ratel commented. “I found so far that of all the crafts, theirs was certainly the most inventive.” “I didn’t get to see it fly, however I was told it did fly the longest distances of all the gliders.” “Is this kind of event normal for you and your crew to do?” Councilor Yersha inquired. “No. This isn’t. We don’t have much opportunity to do this sort of thing.” “Is it normal on your planet—what did you call it? Earth?” “Yes. There are many types of competitions and events on Earth. This is one of them,” Archer ended his comment thinking, ‘Or at least I think this is one of them.’ “We have many competitions ourselves, but we had never thought of such an event as this. We have found it interesting that your crew has been so inventive with refuse and discarded equipment that we thought otherwise useless.” Archer smiled. “My crew is very inventive. I must admit that I have been impressed with their achievements with this event as well. They have made due with refuse that is alien to us. It certainly has caused them to expand their creativity.” “Captain,” Travis said, walking up. “Yes?” Travis held out a communicator to him. Archer took it, watching him walk away. “Archer here.” “We have been contacted by the Ilterians,” T’Pol informed him. “More Ilterians are interested in watching the competition from the surface and they have two teams wishing to compete so they are sending a large vessel and have informed me they have room for more of our crew if you wish to allow more to come to the surface.” “That’s fine. Run a skeleton crew.” “Yes, Captain. T’Pol out.” Archer closed the communicator and tucked it in his uniform sleeve pocket. “Will you excuse me a moment?” “Certainly,” the four answered. Archer stood, sat his plate and drink on his chair and walked away until he was out of their sight. He set off at a jog to where Trip and Malcolm were sitting in the shade of junk with four other crewmen. Archer crouched down beside Malcolm. “They’re sending a news crew and two teams of their own to compete.” “What?” Trip and Malcolm asked. “The Ilterians have a news crew coming. They’ll be brining the rest of the crew down as well. And they want two teams to compete. Spread the word fast because they are on their way now.” “We’ve managed to spark an alien’s curiosity?” Trip smiled. “And they aren’t trying to trick, shoot or otherwise kill us,” Archer joked. “Impressed?” Trip and Malcolm laughed, nodding. “Hurry up. They’ll be here in twenty minutes.” Trip and Malcolm got up and went separate directions. Archer stood and turned, staring at the crew around him. Thirty-three crewmen were lounging in small clusters in the shade of junk, streaked with oil and dirt, laughing and joking. Rebeka hadn’t lied when she said this would build team spirit. # Archer changed out data cards and pulled up T’Pol’s report on the Ilterian system. He included it with the other reports that were going to be sent to Starfleet in the morning. Archer sat back, turning his chair. Outside his port windows he could see the Ilterian moon hanging in space, slowly orbiting the Ilterian home world. Archer smiled. “Computer, begin captain’s log,” Archer said. The computer beeped. “August 21, 2157. Today was the final round of Junkyard Wars. The Willy Nillies versus the Hyena Donkeys.” Archer smiled at the name. “Hyena Donkeys won. They had to build this walking machine that had to make it through an obstacle course piloted by one of the team. Hyena Donkeys made it all the way to the end. Willy Nillies transmission died two meters from the finish line. Sometime during the week and a half Trip and Travis pieced together this thing that was supposed to be a trophy. I’ve seen really bad metal sculptures. This thing beat them all out. It was sooooo ugly! But it fitted well with the fun. The crew had a blast.” Archer’s smile laxed. “And the Ilterians enjoyed every bit of it. The first day the councilors showed up, when T’Pol told me that there was a craft headed for the moon, Trip said he couldn’t believe we sparked an alien’s curiosity. We did more than that. We wowed them. They kept saying they couldn’t believe the things my awesome and amazing crew,” Archer grinned at his praise, “Managed to come up with. And to make matters better, we impressed a Vulcan science crew. They showed up three days ago, claiming to be curious about why we had been in orbit around this moon so long. Apparently they had contacted the Ilterians and knew the moon was a junkyard. Sista and T’Pol told me they were impressed. I’ll have to believe both of them since to me an unimpressed and impressed Vulcan look identical.” Archer laid his head back against his chair. “The Ilterian’s first team lost on the first contest, and the second team lost on the second to last competition but no one went home until it was over. They even camped out with us in these portable things that looked like wigwams. They aren’t much for roughing it, I gathered. I have to admit that they are excellent sportsmen and lost with grace and dignity. They even gave the winning team medals, which certainly made up for that thing Trip called a trophy! This has certainly been two weeks worth remembering. Computer, end log.” The computer beeped. Archer stood and left his ready room, bidding goodnight to the night crew as he stepped onto the lift. “Sir.” Archer put his hand up to stop the door, looking out. Lieutenant O’Malley stood. “Thank you, sir,” O’Malley said. “On behalf of the entire crew. Thank you.” Archer smiled at him. “Don’t thank me. Thank Lieutenant Wagner. This was all her fault. Good night.” “Good night, sir.” Archer dropped his hand, stepping back. He pressed the button for deck E and then leaned against the side of the lift with a soft sigh of contentment. …We Kicked Their ASS! “Junkyard Wars” is a ™ of Discovery Communications Inc. The next short story is Double the Blind The next Tweens story is Pen to Paper |
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