Equilateral

Trip had gone to engineering, and T’Pol and Jon headed from the turbolift to the bridge together. T’Pol’s mind was focused on the ship’s current crisis, and she sensed the same for the Captain.

They strode onto the bridge and found Hoshi, who had been on beta shift when the ship had entered the phenomena.

“Report,” said Jon as he seated himself in the Captain’s chair.

“We’ve flown into. . . goo, sir,” said Hoshi, “It’s knocked out the warp drive and exterior sensors. But it hasn’t affected life support or any internal systems--yet.”

Archer took a deep breath, and he closed his eyes. After a moment he opened them again. It occurred to T’Pol that he might be resisting an urge to laugh. She wasn’t sure what was funny about this phenomena, but it seemed that Ensign Sato also was resisting laughing.

“Ensign Saunders has gotten a sample out of the airlock. It appears to be organic, so he’s taken it to sickbay for analysis.”

Archer nodded.

“T’Pol, you’re with me. Let’s go find out what this. . .goo is.”

T’Pol followed Jon off the bridge and down to sickbay. She kept her mind firmly on the on ship’s current crisis, and from Jon’s body language, his mind was focused on the ship as well. Only briefly in the turbolift did he glance in her direction with a gleam in his eye.

As they headed toward sickbay, the MACO Amanda Cole came from there. T’Pol looked her up and down, wondering what ailment brought her to sickbay. She looked well. Amanda nodded at the superior officers.

“Captain,” she said before turning to T’Pol, “Commander.”

Jon looked at her as they walked into sickbay, but she said nothing. As they arrived, Phlox was bent over one of his scanning instruments.

“Good evening, Captain, T’Pol. . . .”

“What is this stuff?” asked Archer.

Phlox grinned widely.

“It’s fascinating. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s apparently the residual material of some sort of egg sack. The sack itself must have been nearly half a light year across, but it appears that the eggs have already hatched. So, we haven’t harmed the creatures.”

“How big are these creatures?” asked Jon.

“Difficult to say,” said Phlox, “but it’s safe to assume they are. . .quite big. Even as babies. Fascinating isn’t it? That organic creatures have adapted to life in the vacuum of space. It’s a somewhat a shame that there seems to be no evidence of any of the creatures nearby. . . although the sensors are not working.”

T’Pol clasped her hands behind her back.

“How do we clean it out of our systems? Do you have any ideas?”

Phlox shook his head.

“I hadn’t thought that far, but I’m sure I could develop something - however, synthesizing it in sufficient quantity might be an issue.”

T’Pol thought for a moment. She turned to Jon.

“We should contact the Gileaseans. It is possible they have encountered this phenomena before, and they might have advice as to how to deal with it effectively.”

Archer sighed.

“Hoshi can help me contact their chief diplomat. They did offer to help us in any way they could. They might have some advice on this. I’ll do that, and meanwhile, I need you to head down to Engineering and see how Trip and his team is faring with the warp drive. Although with giant. . .space creatures in our midst, tell him to make the external senors his priority.”

T’Pol nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

Archer turned on his heels and exited. T’Pol found herself watching him walk as he left.

“Commander,” said Phlox, “You seem to have developed a rash on your neck in a few places. . .do you know the origin?”

T’Pol raised her eyebrow, she had briefly noticed the greenish bite marks that had been left on her skin, but she had not had time to treat them. She absently reached up and touched the marks, wondering which of her lovers had made them. She realized both of them probably had.

“On the Gilesean planet, I was exposed to something that resulted in the rash,” she said truthfully, “It causes no pain.”

Phlox did not react.

“Well, if you do think it requires treatment, let me know.”

She nodded and headed to Engineering.

***

Engineering was chaotic. Trip had clearly roused his entire staff from bed to deal with the crisis. They worked quickly, monitoring systems and teams appeared to be dispersing to other locations on the ship.

“The Captain wishes to know the status of the external sensors and the warp drive,” said T’Pol as she strode into Trips office. He is staring at a monitor.

“Tell ‘em they’re mucked up, Commander. Does Phlox have any idea what’s mucking them?”

T’Pol approached Trip and looked down at his monitor screen. His colloquial expression was accurate. The external sensors and Warp Drive remained off line. Thankfully, the impulse engines appeared operational.

“Residual organic material from a large egg sac.”

Trip’s eyes widened, and he shook his head.

“Large sounds like an understatement. What kind of creature’s egg sac is half a light year long?”

T’Pol looked at him.

“A very large one, “ she replied sincerely, “Do you believe it is safe to use the impulse engines?”

Trip nodded. He put a hand on the small of her back as he pointed out some data on the monitor. T’Pol felt no need to remove it, nor did she worry that one of the crew might see.

“We seemed to have been able to melt the gunk out of the impulse drive when we fired it up. But the warp nacelles are too delicate for that.”

“The Captain and Ensign Sato are contacting the Gileseans to see if they have any advice.”

“Any advice would be welcome,” he replied, “As it stands now, only a space dock will help us get the exterior of the ship clean. The goo doesn’t appear corrosive, but it could do damage over time.”

Just then, Hess strode into the office. The two senior officers looked up, but Trip did not remove his hand from T’Pol’s back. She stood before both of them.

“The. . .goo is physically present in the nacelles and in both the catwalks. It’s not as thick as on the ship’s exterior, but it’s going to have to be manually cleaned off.”

Trip closed his eyes and shook his head. “It’s going to take days,” he said.

“I can assign people to assist in the task,” replied T’Pol.

“That’ll help,” said Trip casting a glance over at Hess, “but only to a point. I don’t want any novices touching the nacelles themselves. Tell everyone to cancel their plans for Friday night, Hess.”

Hess appeared visibly disappointed.

“It’s too bad. I was looking forward to beating the Macos at the Team Poker tournament.”

Trip laughed.

“Damn,” said Trip, “I forgot about that. I guess we’ll have to depend on Mal and security to do it for us.”

“Yeah,” replied Hess with a smirk, “I’m sure Reed will want to make sure that Hayes suffers.”

There was something odd about the way Hess spoke, and T’Pol looked over at Trip to see if he noticed. If he did, his expression did not indicate it.

“The radiation in the warp nacelles has caused the goo to coagulate and get gluey. Not only is it going to require skilled hands to clean it, it’s going to take hours of manual labor. No getting around it.”

Trip sighed, removing his hand from her back and turning his attention to work.

“I shall alert the Captain. I will also alert you immediately if we hear from the Gileaseans.”

“I’ll alert you if we get any systems back online,” said Trip.

She turned and exited. She returned to the bridge, only to be told that the Captain was in his Ready Room.

“Looks like most of the space docks in this area are equipped to deal with this problem. The Gileseans sent us the coordinates of a trustworthy one that’s about a two hours away at Warp 1.5. If Trip can get the warp engines back on line for at least that amount of time, they shouldn’t take more than a week to get everything cleaned up.”

“Commander Tucker says the Warp Nacelles will require specialized repair from the engineering staff. I have offerer to reassign crew from other areas of the ship to assist in tasks that would take the engineers attention away from the nacelles.”

Archer nodded.

“See if you can get an estimate of how long it will take to get the Warp Drive online, if only just to get us to the space dock.”

T’Pol clasped her hands behind her back and nodded. Jon appeared tired, but she sensed he was relieved that a relatively easy solution to the crisis appeared at hand.

“Luckily, the creatures that lay these things like to inhabit the rings of planets. We’re not likely to run into one of these things unless we enter a system where there’s a nest of of them in the rings of a gas giant. Normally, they just avoid ships all together, but they’ve occasionally been known to swallow a ship.”

T’Pol raised an eyebrow.

“Nobody is sure if the creatures are sentient. If they are, they don’t communicate,” continued Jon wearily.

T’Pol looked at the chronometer. It was approximately six in the morning, and she knew that the Captain had gotten perhaps two hours of sleep. Commander Tucker had gotten even less.

“Captain,” said T’Pol, “Perhaps you should return to your cabin to rest. No doubt there will be much for you to attend to in the next few days, but currently Commander Tucker and I have things well in hand.”

Jon sighed. “You know I can’t go to sleep when the ship is in crisis.”

“Unless you personally plan to help scrubbing airlock seals, there is little for you to do. However, that may change at any time. I recommend that you rest while you can.”

“What about you?”

“After I complete the crew reassignments and assess the progress of the cleaning, I shall rest myself.”

Jon sighed.

“I’ll take your advice under advisement. Dismissed, Commander,” he said.

His tone was formal, but he locked eyes with her in a way that was different. She recognized that although he was maintaining his professional distance, his thoughts were more personal.

She acknowledged this with a nod and left him. Thank to her Vulcan stamina, it wasn’t until close to midnight that night that she found her way back to her own cabin, too exhausted to meditate.

In the hallway, headed back to her quarters, she ran into Trip in the hall. She hadn’t seen him look so exhausted since the days after Azati Prime. He appeared to be headed to the mess hell.

“Commander . . .Trip,” she said softly, “You appear to be in a state of exhaustion. I know you haven’t slept in many hours. Will you be returning to your quarters to rest soon?”

Trip shook his head.

“Everyone is exhausted. But the sooner we get the nacelles clean, the sooner we can get the warp drive online. It’s going to take another two days at this rate.”

T’Pol approached him. She reached up tentatively and put a hand on his cool cheek. He closed his eyes, and he reached up and pressed his hand against hers.

“You will be more likely to make an error in your current condition. You need sleep.”

He sighed, and he turned around toward his quarters. She walked him there. She sensed he wished for her to join him.

“You need sleep, not physical affection,” she said, “I don’t wish to distract you from rest.”

He inhaled.

“Kiss me goodnight?”

She kissed him chastely on the mouth, and he pulled her into a hug, kissing her shoulder. One of the MACOs strode past, glancing briefly at the two senior officers. He looked neither surprised nor particularly interested in their embrace.

“Goodnight,” she said as Trip disappeared into his quarters.

Once she returned to her own quarters, she prepared for bed slowly. Soon crawled into her bed. She inhaled and recognized the pleasant sandalwood scent she had come to associate with Trip that remained in her sheets. She missed his presence. She missed Jon’s presence as well.

She sighed. Her life had changed immensely in the preceding days. Having one mate would have been complicated enough, now she had two. There was much to think about, and yet she remained content as she drifted into sleep.