Chapter 1.

For many-many years, mankind had been unable to solve the Fermi paradox: why is there no evidence for extraterrestrial civilizations when it's so highly probable they must exist!? Using the so-called Drake equation, 20th century people had determined there was a good chance to detect radio-communication from intelligent extraterrestrial life, based on the sheer number of stars with planets that might be able to support life at one point or another; life, that's capable of communication and also willing to get to know others in the Galaxy. Still, for a very long time, nothing had happened, so that in the end, humans had stopped being contented with sending radio signals out into the Space and sitting on their hands, just passively waiting for an answer that would most likely never come – they had wanted more. They had wanted to go out there and look for themselves. So, when on April 5, 2063, Zefram Cochrane made Earth's first warp flight, the historical big step had finally been made. And also the last for a few decades, many thanks to the Vulcan survey ship called T'Plana Hath that had detected the success and chosen that very moment to make their presence known. So, after centuries of impatient waiting, the first peaceful contact with extraterrestrial beings had happened in the second half of the 21st century which had actually turned out to be more of a hindrance for further technological progress than anything else. Pity it had to be the Vulcans.

Now, in the 22nd century, as they were onboard Starfleet's very first warp-5 starship called Enterprise NX-01, sitting in the captain's mess room, enjoying chef's wonderful dinner, Trip thought even meeting the Klingons would probably have been less annoying than that; at least, the big warriors would have put humankind quickly out of their misery instead of the slow and painful torture that was being inflicted upon them by their pointy-eared friends.

Especially by one particular pointy-eared friend.

"But T'Pol, I've told you a thousand times already! Yoda is the tiny, wrinkled, old and green character. It's Jar Jar Binks that has the big eyes and floppy ears! How can you confuse these two!? It's like… like…" – But apparently, he couldn't even think of a wrongdoing that could equal to a mistake like that, so Trip just waved his arms around wildly, pieces of his dinner flying into every direction from the fork clutched firmly in his right hand.

The captain, already accustomed to his long-time best friend's enthusiasm when it came to movies, only shook his head with a fond smile on his face and motioned for the steward on duty to exchange his glass of iced tea for another one – preferably one that didn't have mashed potato swimming next to the mint leaves in it.

Their Vulcan crew member, still clearly so appalled at being corrected that she even forgot to give a lecture about proper table manners and dinner etiquette of starship officials, raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"So, then it's the floppy-eared one that talks backwards?"

The chief engineer gave a defeated sigh.

"Give up, I do." – He took such a big gulp of his own tea that it appeared as if he wanted to drown himself in it. – "Completely hopeless, it is." – He finished afterwards with the verdict.

T'Pol wasn't done yet though.

"Let me get this straight: humans thought extraterrestrials were either ugly, tiny gnomes or 2-meter tall… what exactly was that anyway?"

Trip sighed again.

"A Gungan."

"A what?"

"I just said: a Gungan."

"I've never heard of anything like that before."

"Just because Vulcans don't have an imagination it doesn't mean-"

"And every alien speaks English although none of them can construct a proper sentence?"

"It's not my fault-"

"And humans are everywhere, particularly ruling the entire Galaxy, while all the other species are only there for comic relief?"

Trip gaped like a fish out of water while John tried very hard not to choke on his fried chicken from repressed laughter. 'Trip, my boy, you've gotten yourself into this mess', he thought with mirth when his friend looked at him, silently asking for support the captain was unwilling to give. 'I have a hard enough time working with her on a daily basis, I definitely will not get into an argument about Star Wars with her. No, thanks.' They had just finished a long away mission during which they had explored the moon of a planet they had found. The moon hadn't been in the Vulcan database so they had thought it could be something interesting. Well, the idea hadn't been bad, but in the end, it had proven to be just that: a moon. Anyway, they were back now and deadly tired. Jonathan just wanted to eat then go to sleep.

The chief engineer gave his once-best-friend-now-traitor an accusatory glare before taking a deep breath; assumingly preparing himself for a lengthy lecture about how not to take science fiction too seriously… But before he could begin, Enterprise suddenly gave an enormous jolt, causing everything to fly off the table, while the three occupants of the room had a hard time staying on their seats.

T'Pol grabbed the table firmly to keep from following the cutlery and plates in their freefall, the captain let his chair slide back against the wall behind him and pressed into it for support, and Trip took hold of the door handle with one hand while he pressed the comms with the other.

"Engineering! What the hell just happened?"

"We've fallen out of warp, sir." – Answered a lieutenant who was in charge during second shift, his voice clearly agitated.

Trip rolled his eyes, although his colleague could not see him.

"I'd noticed that, Andrews! The question is: why?"

"We don't know sir… Working on it."

"Great… Any injuries?"

By now the ship had come to a complete halt and Trip could hear groans and moans in the background.

"A few bumps and bruises, commander. Nothing serious. We're reporting them to the bridge right now then I'll send some to sickbay."

"I'm on my way. Tucker out."

The captain had risen and was now trying to get the salad that had landed on him off of his uniform.

"What could have happened?" – He wondered.

"I don't know, sir, but I fully intend to find out." – Without waiting for approval of this plan, Trip was gone, leaving a soaked captain and a somewhat shaken sub-commander alone.

"Captain, with your permission… I would like to go to the bridge and see the situation myself." – The sub-commander said, pulling a carrot out of her now unusually messy hair.

"Permission granted. I'm coming with you."

STAR TREK ENTERPRISE * STAR TREK ENTERPRISE *

"Damage report!" – The captain demanded as soon as he stepped out of the turbolift. He was closely followed by T'Pol who wordlessly shooed her second shift counterpart out of her seat then sat down immediately to press a few buttons on the computer.

"Nine people have reported to sickbay, sir, neither very seriously injured. Engines don't work, we're sitting duck right now. And… Ahm…"

"Yes, Lieutenant? Continue."

"We really don't know what happened…" – The poor woman looked up at her captain nervously, knowing very well this wasn't what the man had wanted to hear. – "I'm sorry, sir." – She added for good measure.

Archer sank into his command chair and pressed the button.

"Engineering? Trip? What's going on down there?"

"It's still a mystery, cap'n." – Trip's voice could be heard loud and clearly from the speakers, his southern accent even more prominent than normally. Archer knew it meant things were real bad, since every time Trip got stressed out, he slipped back into his childhood Florida accent. And Trip, being one of the bravest men Jonathan knew, didn't get stressed out easily. – "Everything seems to be in perfect order. They're just… not working."

By the time the chief engineer finished his sentence, a panicked Hoshi and a half-dressed Reed entered the bridge. It was obvious they both had hastily grabbed their clothes and rushed to see what had happened, without having fully awakened.

The captain motioned for them to be quiet.

"How is that possible?" – He asked his best friend.

"Something is blocking the computer. We enter commands and data but the engines don't get it. It all gets lost somewhere in there."

"What!?" – Hoshi squeaked. – "Is this affecting life support as well?" – She voiced the question on everyone's minds.

By now, Travis had arrived as well and he was listening intently to the answer, hoping the best, with everyone else.

"Doesn't seem to be." – Trip quickly reassured them. – "For now it appears to be exclusively the engines." – His voice indicated he considered the situation personal now: nothing or no one was messing with HIS engines and going away with it! Whatever or whoever it was, they would regret having angered him.

"Can you repair it?" – Asked Archer, feeling a bit concerned: Trip was a great engineer. No: the best. But he wasn't a computer specialist. If the problem really was in the program, would he be able to solve it? And if not him then who else?

Trip, also having the same worry, mustered as much self-confidence as he could when he answered with a promise of doing his best. He just hoped his best would be enough…

After having cut the connection, the captain turned to T'Pol:

"Sub-commander, go and help Trip. You two need to work on this together."

"Aye, sir."

Before the door of the turbolift closed behind her, the captain held it back, looking the Vulcan deep into the eyes.

"And T'Pol?"

"Yes, captain…?"

"Try not to kill each other."

STAR TREK ENTERPRISE * STAR TREK ENTERPRISE *

Everyone who had ever spoken to Trip more than just a few words, knew very well that the chief engineer had held a grudge against Vulcans his entire life and it was not going to change anytime soon. It didn't mean he hated every Vulcan that came his way, per se, but he never actively sought out their company and didn't plan on making friends with any of them. In his opinion, pointy-eared people belonged on their own planet and not on Earth. Or, if they insisted on being on Earth, he was fine with that – as long as they were there to observe and not change humankind's way of living. Sadly, Vulcans had been doing their best to halt human progress ever since they first greeted Zefram Cochrane with that ridiculous hand-gesture of theirs in 2063, deeming earthlings 'stupid' and 'not ready yet' and, for some reason or another, they felt like they had the right to intervene in everything Starfleet ever achieved and treat the rightful habitants of Earth like their very own cute fluffy pets. That was the reason Henry Archer had never gotten to see his own engine fly and that was also the reason Jonathan Archer would never forgive them. That, in itself, would be enough for Trip to be angry as hell – Jonathan was his best friend… more like big brother, really. And if somebody hurt Jonathan Archer, they had Trip to answer to. But even before that Trip had always felt like shaking some Vulcans and screaming 'Leave us alone! Go home and never come back' into their faces.

Being forced to work so closely with one of them was a challenge for the young chief engineer. It was bad enough they'd had a Vulcan dumped on the starship against the captain's will and without his consent, but to have said Vulcan take HIS place as the captain's second in command, a position he had earned and had been chosen for by the captain personally, was outright never-before-heard scandalous. How dare they!? They had nothing to do with Starfleet, they had no right to mess with the chain of command and they also didn't have authority to deny the captain his privilege of choosing his own crew.

Only problem was: they had done it and Starfleet hadn't prevented it. As far as he knew, they hadn't even tried. The cowards.

So, here he was, third in command and outranked by someone who wasn't even part of Starfleet, heck: wasn't even human, and held a rank nobody had ever even heard of before on Earth. What did 'sub-commander' mean, anyway!? And it all didn't matter because she was to be treated as a commander (something they at least understood) and that meant, she had seniority on her side. With her being about a hundred years old or so (who knows with these people!?) he didn't stand a chance. Ha probably wouldn't even live as long as she already had and she was still considered quite young among her people. Disgusting, really.

Nevertheless, he was a professional and he would behave accordingly. Always. Well, almost always. Okay, as soon as they'd be over this crisis, he could start. But right now…

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't poke your nose into all my systems. I'm telling you, they're all fine! The problem is in the computer!"

"The captain has given me the order to help you with this problem. He said we needed to work together." – She reminded him, impassive as ever, not even a hint of any emotion on her face.

This only served to further infuriate Trip. Why couldn't she be normal at least for once!?

"Yes! 'Help' doesn't mean you should check everything I've already done! Helping means you assist me with what I need to do now! Namely check the computer system, which, by the way, should be your field of expertise rather than mine. Instead you're re-doing my job as if you think I'm not capable of doing it on my own!"

"As a matter of fact: human computer technology certainly isn't my 'field of expertise', commander. I'm a Vulcan, I don't have to know your systems."

"Oh, so you aren't the 'science officer' then, are you?"

For once, this had rendered her speechless. No doubt only temporarily but still: a big achievement in Trip's eyes. They both knew her being a science officer was only a fabricated title; from the Vulcans to the Humans with love. It had nothing to do with the real reason she was on Enterprise: guidance, according to her and espionage, according to him. It depended whom you asked.

"What can I assist you with then?" – She asked with forced politeness and; probably for the first time ever in her hundred-year life, without a smart-aleck comeback to Trip's biting question.

The chief engineer gave her a long stare as if he was trying to see into her very soul but, of course, couldn't even see past her pointy ears and hard, expressionless eyes. He shrugged.

"Try to find the glitch in the computer." – With that, he turned away from her and proceeded to ignore her altogether for the rest of their 'cooperation'.

STAR TREK ENTERPRISE * STAR TREK ENTERPRISE *

Working soundlessly side-by-side had functioned great for about twenty minutes.

"Damn it!" – Exclaimed Trip with irritation, causing two ensigns working nearby to flinch. They weren't used to their overly optimistic and always bubbly boss being this annoyed with anything; usually, he was the cool one under any kind of duress, even when they were in mortal peril. Of course, usually he wasn't working next to a Vulcan…

The truth was, Trip had a difficult time resisting the urge to bang his head into the nearest wall when his diagnosis had come back flashing the script 'error' for the fifth time.

T'Pol gave him a cautious glance, clearly unsure whether she was allowed to speak now or not. Actually, if Trip hadn't been so angry he would surely have noticed that he'd gone too far: he had hurt his colleague's feelings without any real good reason to do so. Of course, while Vulcans always insisted they didn't have feelings, it wasn't entirely true either and this time, T'Pol was feeling a bit down.

Slowly, the sub-commander moved toward Trip.

"Is there a problem, commander?" – She asked somewhat tentatively, as if she were talking to small child prone to throwing tantrums at any given time.

"I just don't understand! Everything is fine. Only that nothing is."

"According to this, the engines aren't working properly…" – Suggested T'Pol carefully. – "That's the only thing I can read out of that error message, commander."

"But the engines are fine! I've told you at least ten times! The computer's wrong."

"The computer is never wrong." – Trip gave her a glare that could frighten even the bravest Klingon. – "Perhaps we should-"

But Trip never found out what she'd meant to suggest because at that moment several unexpected things happened at once: they felt the ship shake, making it difficult to remain standing and causing them to grab the closest thing for support – each other. They heard a very loud and unusual noise that sounded like an old motorbike Trip had only ever seen in old films and T'Pol had probably never even heard of. They also had to close their eyes and turn away their heads because suddenly, they were engulfed in a very bright light that hurt their eyes even through closed lids. And the wind… the wind nearly blew them over, thanks to which they instinctively tightened their hold on the other's arms. Trip had a fleeting thought that he would have permanent scars where her nails dug into his skin but he also knew he'd be very glad if that would turn out to be the only negative result of this… whatever this was.

Then, as suddenly as it all had begun, everything calmed down and it was all over, back to normal again. Except for one thing…

"Engineering to the Bridge. Captain…?"

"Bridge here."

"Sir, ahm… I don't really know how to tell you thiss…"

"What is it- Sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Crewman Simmons, sir."

"Crewman Simmons. What is it? Where is Trip?"

"That's exactly the problem, sir… ahm… the commander and the sub-commander have… I mean… I realize it might sound crazy… but they have… disappeared."