"May the Wind Be at Our Backs" by Lady Rainbow Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, don’t make money off ‘em. Notes: Technically, this is the third story in the “Switcheroo Series” (after “Captain Sato’s Enterprise” and “Whips, Chains and Plomeek Soup”), but this tells the very first mission of Captain Sato’s Enterprise, before the events of the other two stories. The series presumes that Humans and Klingons haven’t met yet at the time of the First Mission, so it’s not like “Broken Bow”. The Vulcans are different from the canon universe. They have their own agenda. Will Jon Archer take Hoshi's offer:) Pairings: R/S, TnT Thanks to Pesterfield, who caught some mistakes that I'd missed the first go around. :) Three Hoshi spent most of that morning tracking down and talking with the four people on Soval and Jonathan’s list. Trip wanted to join her, but he needed to report to Enterprise and familiarize himself with his new duties and crew. She reassured him she’d be all right on her own. Every hour, she checked in with Travis Mayweather, her new executive officer. “It’s all going according to schedule, Captain,” Travis told her. His voice held an infectious excitement that cheered her up considerably. “Chief Engineer Phlox says that all the preliminary tests for the warp engines show green. The last of the crew should arrive here this evening.” “I take it there’s still some confusion with the rosters?” Travis’s sigh was audible. “We had some mix-ups with some of Columbia’s people being swapped with ours. Luckily, Captain Hayes and his second officer’s helping us with that. Any luck with finding a comm officer?” “Not yet, but I’ve still got a prospective candidate or two left. Hopefully, we’ll have someone before we launch.” Despite her words, she returned to San Francisco empty-handed. She sighed as she asked T’Saiya, the Vulcan Embassy’s receptionist, if either Soval or Jonathan Archer was available. T’Saiya checked the schedule, then nodded. “Diplomat Archer should still be in his office. I believe Ambassador Soval is having dinner with the Colonial delegate from Alpha Centauri tonight, but he should return by twenty-one-hundred hours. Shall I announce your arrival, Captain Sato?” Hoshi shook her head. “No, I’ll just have a word with Diplomat Archer. Thank you, T’Saiya.” Jonathan’s office was in the western wing of the Embassy, along with most of the Terran members of the Starfleet Diplomatic Corps. He was reading reports at his desk when Hoshi arrived at his door. She observed him for a few moments. There was an intensity in his expression, a strict concentration at the matter of hand. His sharp green eyes were fixed onto his computer screen, his chin rested on his left hand, while he tapped a stylus with his right hand. Like most diplomats, Jonathan had decorated his office with momentos of his travels. Hoshi saw a sculpture made of obsidian quarried from Vulcan’s Fire Plains. A small decanter of Andorian ale sat next to a cluster of shot glasses. Oddly enough, a white water polo ball occupied a place of honor on his desk and a sweatshirt from Stanford University lay on a nearby chair. “Captain Sato!” His voice startled her. “Sorry, I was just finishing a translation of Surak’s First Treatise. Fascinating stuff. I hope you weren’t waiting long.” She blushed, like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “No, not at all.” “Come on in, make yourself comfortable. I saw you eyeing the Andorian ale; will you share a drink with me?” “Just a small one.” Hoshi couldn’t help but feel amused as he ushered her into the chair (depositing the Stanford shirt in his gym bag on the floor) and made a show of making her comfortable. He poured a generous splash of the ale into two shot glasses, then offered her one. She raised her glass in a silent salute and drained it with one gulp. “I take it the interviews didn’t go well, then?” She shook her head. “I couldn’t convince any of them to join. They didn’t want anything to do with Starfleet.” “No offense, but some of the Diplomatic Corps see you as ‘shoot first, talk later’, while we’re usually the other way around,” Jon admitted. “It’s a case of occupational snobbery.” Her laugh was ironic. “Well, I can see that, but now it looks like I’ll be without a comm officer when we launch.” “Wish I could help more, Hoshi.” She smiled at his use of her first name. “I know and I do appreciate everything you’ve done.” She looked at the smooth, transparent ice-blue crystal sphere on his desk. “Is that a da’lesha?” He nodded. “It was a gift from the Andorian ambassador. Here, let me show you what it does.” He picked it up, and the sphere began to chime a series of notes. It was not perfectly in sequence, or perfectly in tune, but it still made a pleasant sound. Jon handed it to Hoshi and the harmonics shifted to a higher register. “It reflects your inner soul, or so the Andorians say. It’s impossible to get it perfectly tuned; that’s reserved for the Gods.” A smile lit up Jonathan’s face. “Though that sounds pretty close for you.” She smiled and handed the sphere back to him. Jon went on to talk about some of the other items in his office. He knew the history of each one and was able to share some charming anecdotes of his visits to those planets. The more he talked, the more conviction and excitement crept into his voice. Hoshi saw what drove him to explore new languages and cultures. It was a genuine love of learning and a genuine appreciation for the similarities and differences in the universe. “When was the last time you visited off-world?” she asked, curious. “Four months ago, I went to Denobula. Charming people, though they can be quite stubborn if they think they’re right,” Jon replied with a laugh. “Their ambassador had five wives and they were rather...friendly. Soval was with me, and I remember one of them said he was ‘as depressing as a wet ferra in a bog.’ Soval’s not that bad; he’s just, well, complicated.” “He’s not your typical Vulcan, is he? I could tell just meeting him this morning.” Jon nodded. “No, he’s not. A lot of people think he’s stubborn and uncompromising, but if he’s one thing, he’s fair. He’s rather close to his family, always dispensing advice to one of ‘em or another.” “I can see that too.” She sighed. “It takes a special kind of person to adapt and thrive in different environments. Soval here on Earth, you on all the worlds you’ve traveled. Some people are meant to be among the stars, Jonathan.” He met her gaze, but she couldn’t read his expression. “You know I can’t join your crew, Hoshi. I’ve already told you I’m committed here.” “You’ve told me that...in Soval’s presence.” “He needs me here. I’ve been by his side for the past nine years. I can’t throw that away.” She shook her head. “I’m not asking you to throw away your friendship with Soval. He means something to you and I’m sure he’d want to see you do what you do best. That’s building bridges with new peoples and learning how to communicate with them. You can’t do that planet-side, Jonathan. I need the best people possible, the ones who can adapt to unusual situations, the ones who can think on their feet...because out there—“she gestured towards his open window, where the stars were shining—“out there, we don’t know who we’re going to meet.” Jonathan’s eyes softened as he stared out the window. “The offer’s tempting, Hoshi—“ “Besides, how am I going to honor Soval’s request to keep Trip out of trouble? I barely kept him in one piece on the Madagascar!” Her grin turned impish. “And it’d be nice if I could have someone to talk to, just so I don’t get rusty on my languages.” “But then I’d have to accept a commission. Starfleet wouldn’t let a civilian on a ship that could see potential military action.” He chuckled in a self-depreciative tone. “I’m a bit old to be an ensign.” “I’m sure Admiral Forrest would take that into account. Your experience would jump you to at least a lieutenant’s grade, if not higher.” “Lieutenant Jonathan Archer. Dad would be laughing from his grave and saying, ‘I told you so’.” He chuckled and said, “There’s still a problem, if I’m going to do this.” She sighed. “What’s that?” A soft whine under Jonathan’s desk answered her. She blinked as a—dog?—jumped up into his lap. It was a beagle, with large brown eyes and floppy ears. Jonathan scratched the beagle under the chin. “Who’s going to take care of Porthos?” T’Saiya walked up the hall leading to Diplomat Archer’s office. She stopped short at the sight of Ambassador Soval, standing just within listening distance of the open door. The expression on Soval’s face was one of mixed regret and sadness. He looked at her and shook his head. T’Saiya nodded and with a bow, retreated back the way she came. Soval sighed as he remembered the words he’d spoken to T’Les about T’Pol: Her heart belongs to the stars. You must let her go. He had told himself that he was only pointing out what was logical. Yet he’d never expected to be faced with a similar situation, on the same day. Jonathan was not his son by blood, but Soval surprised himself with the feelings of protectiveness—and panic, though he’d never admit it to himself. Jonathan’s heart belongs to the stars. You must let him go. This time, it was T’Les’s voice who repeated the words in his mind. And to his eternal annoyance, Tucker’s voice added, Time to take your own advice, old man. Soval’s mouth quirked upward in a smile no one else would see. Who else better to take care of Tucker? He shook his head and silently went into his office, across the hall from Jonathan’s. Then he went through his meditation exercises. It was time to prepare himself for the inevitable, but Soval found himself with another illogical emotion: pride. Back to Part 2 Continue to Part 4

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