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Damage Control, I
 
Written by : Miera (beta kyrdwyn, Kylie Lee)
Translated by : Laurent
Original published 21 October 2005
French version published 17 March 2006
 
            Damage Control, I
 
It was a large office, with a panoramic view of the city behind the desk--an office suitable for the rank and social status of its occupant. The desk chair was turned toward the view when a figure entered the room and stopped a few feet from the desk. The new arrival stood straight and still, waiting, knowing better than to move or speak until he was ordered otherwise.
A long, painful silence passed before the chair's occupant spoke, in a low voice that carried an undertone all the more frightening for being quiet. "What went wrong?"
"The crew of Enterprise managed to take over the complex and alter the aim of the weapon so that no one was injured."
"Enterprise." The figure in the chair spat the word like a curse.
"Archer himself led the away mission." He was unable to keep the nervousness out of his voice.
The chair turned and Mandukar held himself stiffly, waiting for the commander's censure for his failure.
The commander surprised him, though, by bringing his hands together before him. "Perhaps it is time that we rid ourselves of Archer and his crew," the commander said. The deep menace behind his words made Mandukar shiver internally, though he gave no outward sign.
"What should I do, Commander?"
 
**********
 
Jonathan Archer was pacing irritably in the anteroom. It was possible, he admitted to himself, that being the captain of Starfleet's flagship and being hailed over and over as the savior of the planet had made him forget what it was like to wait for anything. Even so, it was taking a ridiculous amount of time for him to be admitted to see Admiral Novotny, the head of Starfleet Intelligence. A major act of domestic terrorism had just been thwarted ("By me," he thought irritably) and revealed a traitor aboard Enterprise. The least the admiral could do was postpone his lunch a few minutes to speak to him.
The doors to the inner office finally opened and the admiral's personal assistant waved to him. "Captain, the admiral is ready for you now."
Archer didn't trust himself not to snap, so he merely nodded at the lieutenant.
Novotny was standing behind his desk. "Jon. I wish we were seeing each other under different circumstances." He held out a hand and Archer took it more out of politeness than real desire.
"I guess I don't have to tell you what I'm doing here?" he asked as they both sat down.
"No. Look, Jon, I understand that you must feel an emotional involvement in this, but you have to let my people do their jobs."
"With all due respect, Admiral, if your people had been doing their jobs earlier, all of this could probably have been prevented." With his words, the temperature in the room seemed to cool a few degrees, but Archer didn't care. He held the admiral's eyes, showing him that he wouldn't back down.
Novotny leaned back and glared. "Captain," he bit out. "My staff are all very good at what they do, but we're none of us psychic. And Paxton's plan was sheer lunacy. There was no way to predict something like that would happen."
Archer sat back, trying to recall his diplomatic skills. They had been sadly eroded of late. "Were you making predictions before any of this?"
"We anticipated protests surrounding the conference. We had some information that small groups of objectors might be planning acts of violence, but you know full well that after the Xindi attack, any kind of dangerous material or anything on the planet that could be used to fashion weapons has been under close scrutiny. We had no reason to expect anyone could get their hands on anything that would cause widespread damage."
"Certainly not the Verteron array," Archer let his shoulders drop, hoping to convey an impression of backing down without actually saying anything. He thought he would choke if he tried. "I'd appreciate being able to see the reports you had prior to the attack."
Novotny, unfortunately, wasn't falling for it. "I've already sent the relevant materials to your security officer."
Archer got up and began pacing. "There has to be more than that. There has to be something--some indication of who else might be involved in this thing."
The admiral shrugged noncommittally. "I've already promised to forward you the results of our investigation as soon as I have it. You know the security involved in Intelligence's work. There's really nothing else I can do."
Archer knew stonewalling when he saw it. He tried one last appeal. "There was a Terra Prime operative aboard my ship, Admiral. And Starfleet Intelligence suspected it and didn't tell me. I think I have the right to be a little suspicious about promises to share information."
"Yes, about that," Novotny said, not acknowledging Archer's comment. "I'm actually glad you came by. I can give this to you in person."
Archer accepted the PADD with a sinking feeling. "What is this?"
"An order, from my office, for an investigation into the crew of Enterprise. There's some concern that Ensign Masaro wasn't acting alone."
Archer nodded. He had been expecting this, but the insult of the order still stung. He didn't bother mentioning to Novotny that he'd already started an internal investigation on his own.
"Some people wanted to send one of our investigators to do this, Jon," Novotny said, switching back to Archer's first name. "I told them it was your house and you would want to take care of it internally. But I do expect a complete report on your investigation to be forwarded to my office."
The irony was truly amazing, Archer thought. He nodded. "Yes, sir," and left, knowing he'd never get anything out of Novotny through official channels.
He'd just have to try some unofficial ones.
 
*******
 
Ensign Hoshi Sato was used to sitting still. Her job entailed long hours of doing nothing but listening, so it wasn't a stretch to sit and listen to the translation of the argument that had been raging in the conference room most of the day. The universal translator was working properly. Given some of the things the Tellarite ambassador had said about humans, she almost wished she wasn't so good at her work. Still, after hours of listening to five different species haranguing each other with only one common ground--the idiocy of humans--she was ready to be done for the day. When Captain Archer came through the doors, she jumped to her feet in an enthusiastic display of military protocol. Ironically, the diplomats in the room did the same thing.
Archer held up a hand, "Please, don't let me interrupt."
Ambassador Soval shook his head. "Not at all, Captain. I think perhaps this would be an opportune moment to finish our...deliberations for today." Sato thought she sensed an almost-human sarcasm underneath the words. Soval turned and gave a half-bow to the standing diplomats. It seemed to be a cue. The other delegates scattered around the room, and chatter almost immediately filled the room.
Sato turned back to Archer. "Did you need me, sir?"
"I'm on my way back to the ship. I wanted to check in." Archer looked at her critically. "How bad is it?" he asked in a lower voice.
"It's bad," she answered in the same tone. "They're taking the continued demonstrations and unrest as a sign that the planet is too divided and there's no way to move forward given current conditions. And the Corridan and Tellarites are both demanding better security protection at their compounds, even though the worst protests are outside the Vulcan compound."
Archer looked around the room with barely concealed anger. "Do they realize that ending the conference will be giving Terra Prime exactly what it wants?"
Sato shifted her weight nervously. "They're not sure at this point that Terra Prime isn't more representative of Earth's people than Starfleet, sir. Even the news about Paxton's illness doesn't seem to have stemmed the protests entirely."
Archer seemed about to speak, but he stopped himself. "I'm going back to the ship. Stay here and do anything you can to help."
 
*****
 
Doctor Phlox looked up to see Commander T'Pol walking into Sickbay. "Ah, Commander. You got my message, I take it?"
"Yes, doctor."
Phlox held out a PADD. "These are all the notes I have on Elizabeth's medical condition, including what I've been able to put together regarding the process of her...creation." T'Pol took the PADD and looked at it without speaking. Phlox continued after a moment, "I haven't seen you much these past few days."
T'Pol shifted uncomfortably. "I have been spending a great deal of time meditating."
Phlox nodded. That was probably wise. "Have you spoken to Commander Tucker?"
"Not since the memorial service."
"It might help you both to talk about what happened," he said gently.
"Talking will not change what was done to us or to the child," T'Pol said, with only the most minor trace of irritation underlying her voice.
"No, but the emotional consequences of this experience will not simply evaporate after a few days, not even for a Vulcan."
T'Pol's posture relaxed slightly. She folded her arms across her chest, still holding the PADD. She was silent a moment, and this time, he let the silence remain, waiting for her to speak. "Elizabeth was not my child. Biologically, she was a clone."
"Yes, but she was still created through a process of combining your genetic material with Commander Tucker's."
T'Pol looked at the PADD again. "I had never expected to bear any children," she said quietly. "When I first postponed my marriage to Kos, I believed that I was also choosing never to have a child. Even when the marriage did take place, we both understood that I would be remaining on Enterprise and under such circumstances, it would not have been feasible for us to have any offspring."
Phlox nodded understandingly. "And now you're wondering if Elizabeth is as close as you will get to having a child?"
"Yes."
"Well, you've hardly passed the age of being unable to conceive, as I understand Vulcan physiology."
"No," she said. "However, there are considerations other than biology."
Phlox was silent a moment. "The events of the past few days have been deeply distressing for everyone. It will take time to come to terms with what's happened--for you and for Commander Tucker. In the meantime, even if you think it would be of no benefit to you, I think you should consider talking to Mr. Tucker, for his sake, if not your own."
T'Pol looked at him for a long moment. "I will consider it. Thank you, Doctor."
 
***************
 
"Investigation log, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, January 25, 2155.
"I am continuing my investigation into the activities of Ensign Masaro, the Terra Prime agent who was revealed and then took his own life during the terrorist attack against Earth. Ensign Masaro, being one of the crew members who joined Enterprise after the mission in the Expanse, was not particularly well known to anyone on board. Today, however, personal interviews with the crew turned up the first relevant information I have been able to gather.
"Commander Kelby reported that Masaro, while a competent member of the engineering crew, seemed uncomfortable with Doctor Phlox and was distressed during our encounters with members of alien species, particularly the Orions and Klingons. Kelby believes he overheard Masaro making deeply offensive comments regarding alien species, but the words were muttered under his breath, most likely due to being in the presence of a commanding officer.
"Kelby reported having no social contact with Masaro, and given that Masaro attempted to blame the sabotage of Shuttlepod One on Kelby, I'm inclined to believe him.
"Lieutenant Giordano and Ensign Grant reported to me that Ensign Masaro was briefly involved in a romantic relationship with Ensign Batare.
"Batare told me that she saw Masaro for approximately three weeks, though this was during the period of our last encounter with the Orion Syndicate, which meant they only spent time alone together three times in that period. Batare reported they attended movie night and ate two meals together. They were never physically intimate. She said they ceased seeing each other because she was not feeling any kind of interest after those three meetings.
"This matches the information given to me by Giordano and Grant.
"Batare said that Masaro was very quiet and never spoke aloud any feelings on alien contact to her. She believes with hindsight that he may have seemed uncomfortable when Commander T'Pol addressed her during one of their dinners. Batare is an engineer but she is primarily a member of the science team, which puts her under Commander T'Pol's direct chain of command rather than Commander Tucker's. Batare assumed at the time Masaro's discomfort was due to the difference in rank.
"Additionally, Lieutenant Giordano reported also overhearing Masaro discussing the 'alien threat' (her words) with Ensign Stabler in a corridor. From what she could recall of the conversation, Masaro was speaking very quietly about the danger Earth was facing with every new alien contact. Before she could discern Stabler's response to this, Lieutenant Kowalski discovered them and the two men separated.
"I am scheduled to interview Kowalski and Stabler tomorrow.
"End log."
 
***************
 
Ensign Travis Mayweather made his way to a small club in downtown San Francisco. He was feeling slightly guilty about leaving the ship with everything that had happened lately. The discovery of a major terrorist organization, bent on isolating Earth from all alien contact, had only served to make Earth feel even more foreign to him. Growing up in space, Travis knew full well that no one survived on his own. You took help from whoever was offering it to you, no matter what planet they were from. How anyone with any intelligence could fail to see that was beyond him.
He found the club and went inside, trying not to be too obvious while he searched the crowd. The message he'd received had sounded more than a little paranoid. Gannet found him first. Mayweather felt someone tug his jacket, and he turned around. "Gannet, what's going on? Are you all right?"
He had reason to ask: her eyes were wide, and her entire body was rigid. After a quick smile of recognition, her eyes slid back to the crowd, staring at the people surrounding them, keeping her eye out. "I'm all right--for now." She leaned in very close to his ear. "I just slipped a data device into your pocket. Don't reach for it now."
He closed his hand around her wrist instead, holding her when she tried to pull away. "What's going on?" he repeated.
"I need you to keep it safe for me. Take it to Enterprise. Maybe you can even get it open."
"What--" he tried, but she shook her head.
"I can't tell you anything else right now. I think there's information on that disk about Terra Prime, about something they were trying to do that hasn't come up yet. But I don't have time to find out right now."
"Why are you giving this to me and not to your bosses at Starfleet?"
Gannet finally met his eyes, and Mayweather saw the total fear in them. "I'm not sure it's safe. Please, Travis, I know I can trust you. You have to find out what's on that disk." She checked her watch. "I have a contact to make. I'll get in touch with you as soon as I get home. Go back to your ship."
She twisted out of his grip and disappeared into the crowd. He felt a strong sense of unease--one he'd come to associate with things blowing up around him--begin to twist in his stomach.
He waited ten minutes, then left. The side of his jacket, where Gannet had tugged, somehow felt heavier. He'd turn the disk over to the captain, and the captain would have Sato look at it--she was a genius with data storage media.
 
*************
 
Archer was in sweatpants and a t-shirt, clearly indicating he had also recently been asleep, when T'Pol arrived on the Bridge. "Captain." She nodded to Ensign Mayweather, who was also out of uniform. The young man looked agitated, which was unusual for him.
"Sorry to wake you," Archer apologized. "Something's come up that needs your attention.
"It's not a problem," T'Pol said calmly.
"We're just waiting for Hoshi."
T'Pol nodded, considering what might be going on if the Captain had summoned Ensign Sato from Earth back to the ship before the conference ended.
They didn't have to wait long. Sato arrived, looking slightly less polished than usual. That could be due to the late hour, or to using the transporter.
"Thank you for getting back so quickly, Hoshi," Archer said.
"No problem, sir. What's going on?"
"Travis was given this," Archer gestured to what appeared to be a data storage device sitting on the table. "By his friend Gannet. I need you and T'Pol to try and find out what's on it."
Sato glanced towards T'Pol, "Do we have any idea what we're looking at?"
T'Pol examined the device carefully and saw nothing either familiar or remarkable. "I do not recognize this configuration. Do we have any idea where she obtained the device?"
Mayweather shrugged uncomfortably. "She didn't say."
Archer squeezed Mayweather's shoulder. "You did the right thing, Travis. We'll find out what's going on here." He headed for his ready room. "Let me know when you have anything."
Sato let out a small, barely audible sigh as they began to work.
 
*****************
 
Commander Charles Tucker braced himself before walking into the mess hall. He'd been avoiding the more public areas of the ship for a couple of days now, but the time had come to stop hiding. Still, he felt a small twinge of annoyance as several people glanced at him and stared for a moment before looking away.
He probably should've been used to the staring by now, really.
He grabbed a plate of eggs and a mug of coffee, and found his way across the room to the table occupied by Malcolm Reed. The armory officer was eating his breakfast mechanically, as usual, reading a PADD and eating without looking at his food.
Tucker set his tray down, making Reed look up for the first time. "Commander."
"Malcolm. What are you reading?"
Reed pushed the PADD away, and Tucker noticed his friend's face was slightly haggard and frowning--well, more so than usual. "I was checking over my notes from yesterday's...interviews," he said, his voice pitched low enough that no one could overhear them.
Tucker nodded, his stomach tightening slightly. He looked at Reed closely. "Have you found anything?"
Reed hesitated.
Tucker glared a little. "I'm not asking for confidential details, Malcolm. Just a general picture. I will see the report eventually."
Reed hunched over his plate slightly. "Nothing specific."
Tucker resumed eating. Reed didn't.
"I hate this, Trip," Reed said, his voice going even lower. "I feel like the bloody High Inquisitor. My job is supposed to be focused on external threats to this ship, not interrogating our own crew."
Tucker glanced around the mess hall. He understood what Reed meant. After the mission in the Expanse, he would've staked his life on the loyalty of every person on board Enterprise. It sickened him that he felt uneasy around his own people.
But that didn't change the facts.
"I know what you mean, but it's got to be done. Masaro was on board this ship for the better part of a year, and we have to know if he was acting alone. I need to know, Malcolm." The other man looked at him and Tucker's voice hardened slightly. "We all need to know if he did anything else to this ship or the rest of the crew."
Reed stared at him for a moment, and then nodded. "I should go. My next interview is in fifteen minutes." He reached for his PADD and got up. He placed one hand on Tucker's shoulder for a moment as he left.
 
*********************
 
Archer looked at his bridge crew. Sato, Mayweather, Tucker, and T'Pol were standing around the display on the bridge, looking at the schematics of the data disk Mayweather had recovered.
"We have been able to map the internal construction of the data device. It does not resemble any known technology for a data recording instrument that I have seen," T'Pol said.
"But you haven't been able to read the contents?" Archer asked.
Sato shook her head. "It took us time to figure out what we were looking at. The data contained on the device is encrypted. It's going to take several hours to break the code."
Archer turned to Mayweather. "She didn't give you any indication what she thought was on it?"
Mayweather shook his head. "All she said was she thought there was information about Terra Prime--something that no one knew yet."
"That's nice and cryptic," Tucker observed sourly.
"She was pretty agitated, sir. To be honest, I wasn't sure she wasn't completely paranoid."
"The fact that this technology is of unknown alien origin may suggest otherwise," T'Pol put in.
"You haven't heard from her since last night?" Archer asked.
"No, sir." Mayweather's face clearly showed his concern. "She said she was going to go meet a contact and that she would be in touch with me afterward. That was nearly ten hours ago."
Archer stared at the schematics for a minute, deliberating. "T'Pol, you and Hoshi get back to work on the device. Use whatever ship's resources you need, but don't discuss this with anyone else." Sato and T'Pol nodded and left. Archer turned to Mayweather. "We need to know what's going on. I want you to go back down to the surface and find Gannet. Trip, you go with him. Clearly there's something more going on here than one person's paranoia. Bring her back to Enterprise. I don't care if you have to knock her unconscious and drag her."
Mayweather folded his lips together tightly, but he nodded and headed for the turbolift. Tucker glanced at Archer, worry clear on his face, and followed.
Archer went to his ready room and started sending messages to his remaining allies in Starfleet Command. Something was going on--something that kept catching his ship and his crew up in crisis after crisis. He was going to get to the bottom of it.
 
************
 
When Tucker and Mayweather stepped out of the elevator in Gannet's apartment building and turned, Mayweather had a sinking feeling: halfway down the hall, a door was hanging open, broken out of its frame. Mayweather looked at Tucker in alarm, and they raced down the hall. At the door, they both drew out their phase pistols. Tucker pushed the door back slowly, checking the room before entering, Mayweather right behind him. He didn't need to take in the apartment number to know that it was hers.
Inside, the apartment was a mess. Everything had been overturned or turned inside out. The place had been rifled. The two of them made their way past the living area and kitchen. The bedroom door was half closed, and again, Tucker pushed it open slowly. He stepped into the bedroom before he realized the pile of sheets on the floor at the end of the bed wasn't just sheets.
"Gannet!" Mayweather said and started forward. Tucker stopped him.
"It's too late, Travis." At Tucker's voice, Mayweather stopped, anger and grief on his face. "Come on. This is a crime scene. We need to get out of here and call the police."
"You're not going anywhere," a strange voice said behind them.
End of part I.
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