Forwarded by the ASC-VSO 
Posted: 7 Jan 2004 16:36:53 -0800  
In: alt.startrek.creative 
From: shouldknowbettertt@yahoo.co.uk (shouldknowbetter) 
 

Title: Cry Havoc
Series: ENT
Begins with "A Logical Proposal"  "Cry Havoc'" is seventh in
the series
Part: 4/6 Story 23/34 Series
Author: ShouldKnowBetter
Email:  shouldknowbettertt@yahoo.uk.com
Rating:      PG-13
Codes:  Tu/T, all "Enterprise" characters, Soval, action, drama, angst
Summary: A planet holds unexpected treasure for Enterprise's crew.
CRY HAVOC

Part Four



Ten minutes later, Archer looked up from the schematic presented on
the situation room's screen and frowned reprovingly at Reed.  "You
expect me to authorise this?"

"Sir?"

"You're proposing to access Pushkin's phase cannons at warp.  In an
environmental suit."

"Yes, sir."

Malcolm, that's crazy.  The near field effects alone …"

"That's why I needed Commander Tucker to extend the warp bubble, sir. 
It creates space for us to work," the Englishman leant forward to
indicate the small envelope, "just there."

"T'Pol, you tell them."

The first officer gave her captain a resigned look but obliged. 
"Extra-vehicular working at warp has never before been attempted. 
Under the present circumstances, to risk both our tactical officer and
chief engineer in an unnecessary and futile attempt to restore another
ship's offensive capability is illogical in the extreme."

"How else are we going to gain access to Pushkin's crew?" Reed asked
and T'Pol turned to give her conclusion to Archer.

"Perhaps direct questioning of Captain Dexter is the only way to
proceed."

"Not gonna work."  Tucker had been lounging on the edge of the table. 
"We need to get over there.  I always wanted to see space up close and
personal."

"If the risk was acceptable, why do you and Lt. Reed find it expedient
to undertake the work yourselves?"  Vulcans could glare very hard. 
"If you were confident of success, you would delegate."

"We'll be fine."  He wasn't answering Enterprise's first officer and
T'Pol turned back to Archer, annoyance growing.  Her objection had
been rational and professional; Tucker had no right to imply that she
was concerned for him at a personal level.

"Since it appears that my opinion is not required, captain, I have
other tasks to perform."

She stalked away and Archer sighed.  "She has a point."  It was his
turn to glare at the two men.  "If I could think of a better plan I
wouldn't permit this, but unfortunately I can't.  I'll let Dexter know
that you'll be reporting to Pushkin at 0900 tomorrow – once I've
reviewed those probability figures again."

"Malcolm can go over them with you, cap'n," Tucker was already edging
towards the main bridge.  "I got … other stuff to do."

Archer shook his head and let the engineer go.  He had a pretty good
idea exactly what sort of other stuff his friend needed to take care
of.


Tucker finally tracked T'Pol down to the auxiliary computing facility
where, after the briefest of glances, she proceeded to ignore him.  He
sighed and came to stand behind her, hands resting lightly on her
shoulders.  "Still mad at me?"

She shrugged him off.  "You are mistaken, commander.  Vulcans do not
become ‘mad'."

This was bad.  "The hell you do."  He tried to turn her around but she
demonstrated just how much stronger than him she really was; it was
like trying to move a ten tonne rock.  "T'Pol, c'mon now, don't be
silly."

"Silly!"  She shot him a furious look then directed her attention back
to the screen before her, no doubt infuriated by her weakness in
responding.  "It is not I who am proposing to risk my life in a
display of bravura that will serve no useful purpose."

"We have to …"

T'Pol whipped around to face him then pretended that she had needed to
cross to the other side of the room.  "There are other ways to find
the evidence you seek."

"Like what?"

"Waiting until Enterprise and Pushkin reach Earth.  A full
investigation will no doubt be undertaken at that point – by
professionals, trained in extracting facts from reluctant or ignorant
witnesses."

"And if we're at war by then?"  Without a trace a trace of his usual
lightness, Tucker moved to T'Pol's side again.  "You've read the
reports, you know how close we are," he drew a deep breath, "and you
know Earth isn't guaranteed to win.  You said it yourself – the
Klingon Empire is a society totally geared to warfare.  It's how they
work.  Earth's not ready for them.  Maybe you Vulcans were right all
along and we shouldn't have gone out into space until we were ready to
face the consequences of kicking over a few anthills but that's what
we've done.  If proving it was Dexter who created this mess can
prevent a war - even if it only buys us some time to prepare – then
I'm gonna accept the risk.  T'Pol," this time she let herself be
turned to face him, "it doesn't mean I don't love you, darling."

He saw her swallow.  "I … am still reluctant to lose you."

Tucker laughed softly and pulled the curvaceous woman to him, rubbing
his cheek against her hair.  "I can buy that.  I wouldn't wanna lose
me either."

T'Pol had nestled her head into the human's shoulder, but pulled back
at that.  "You are extremely annoying."

"Yeah, but you love me anyway."

"So you frequently tell me."  Cool hands cupped her face and a mouth
fitted itself expertly over hers, the attention still most welcome
even after ten months of regular – very regular - intimacy.  T'Pol
gave herself up to the pleasure, not just of lips and tongue caressing
hers but the feel of Tucker's emotions rising within her, clearer now
that he was touching.  He did often give her a headache but the
enjoyment when they were together like this was sufficient
compensation.

"T'Pol," the breathless whisper tickled her ear pleasantly as she
began to kiss his jaw line, "are you on duty?"  She jerked back, eyes
wide and furious.  "I only asked!"  She headed for the door.  "Are you
as angry as you were the other day?"  T'Pol could feel laughter
welling up inside Tucker as well as recognise it in his voice.  "Only
my back's …"

"I have no intention of losing control."  She turned to glare at the
man following her along the corridor.  "For you, however, it is
another matter."

"Promise?"




Pushkin's engineering team seemed glad to have Tucker back even if
Dexter's acceptance had been grudging.  Some were even more pleased
than others.  One small blonde blushed furiously when Tucker allocated
her to work with him on warp core modifications but despite her
youthful prettiness Sarah Rommel was the nearest thing Pushkin had
left to anyone of senior status.  Reed had sarcastically informed
Tucker that he could take advantage of the ensign's complete lack of
taste and pump her for information while Reed undertook a serious
investigation.  The engineer had reluctantly agreed, but only on
condition that Reed didn't tell T'Pol.  So now Enterprise's chief
engineer was stuck in Jeffries tube with a pretty girl, attempting to
make a half hour job last all morning while asking incriminating
questions about the said girl's captain.  A couple of years previously
he would have enjoyed one out of the three, but now he had to worry
about the reaction of a jealous girlfriend who was considerably
stronger than himself.

Left to his own devices, the straightforward American would simply
have asked outright if Pushkin's captain was a crazy, murdering,
son-of-a-bitch, but Reed had insisted on tact and Tucker didn't really
do tact.  Fortunately it was Rommel herself who gave him an opening. 
As she watched him deliberately and – he hoped – unnoticeably
introducing several bugs into the plasma injector backup system, she
asked tentatively, "Sir, do you know if it's true that Vulcan has
closed its embassy on Earth?"

"They've withdrawn non-essential personnel," he corrected and used the
girl's distraction to overload a bypass circuit.  "Damn!"  That came
out realistic as the sparks caught his hand; serve him right for
damaging the ship instead of maintaining it.   He sat back, sucking
his burnt fingers and silently cursing Reed.

"Are you all right, sir?  Should I get a first aid kit?"

"No."  He shook his hand and inspected the burns, wincing.  "Make that
a yes."  It hurt and the delay would be useful.  She returned within
seconds and he let her spread the anaesthetic gel over the damaged
skin, watching as it firmed to form a protective film.  "Thanks.  Why
don't you see if you can sort out the mess I made?"  With Rommel
hopefully distracted and therefore off guard, he settled against the
wall, thinking up a few leading questions.  "Who told you about the
Vulcans?"

"It was just a rumour going round.  Commander," she paused in what she
was doing although didn't look at him, "they're leaving because Earth
could be attacked, aren't they?"

"They think so."

"Do you think that?"  This time she did turn to face him.

"It's a possibility.  I guess it's our job to stop it happening."

She returned to work.  "All because of Pushkin."  Tucker held his
breath.  "Why did they fire on us?"

Life was never that convenient.  "The Klingons say you fired first."

"Captain Dexter wouldn't do that."

Was that defensiveness in her voice?  "Your phase cannons were
deployed.  Maybe they thought you were gonna fire."

"It was just a test."

Definitely defensive and Tucker felt his heart rate increase. 
"Strange time to be testing your weapons."

"That's what Commander Bester said, but the captain …"

"Go on."

Suddenly she whipped around.  "Why are you asking all these
questions?"

Tucker managed what he hoped was an innocent expression.  "Just
interested.  If we go to war over this …"

"Stop it!"  Rommel was furious although maybe tears weren't far away
either.  "Captain Dexter said you'd do this, try and discredit us.  I
didn't believe him – until now," and she turned and crawled away down
the tube as fast as possible.  For a moment, Tucker considered
following then thought better of it.  She was too upset to listen to
reason and he still had to fix the faults he had introduced, to say
nothing of the modifications still required.




The extra-vehicular activity to dislodge the jammed phase cannons went
smoothly, although to his shame Tucker found that he was soaked with
perspiration when they came to strip off their environmental suits. 
He hadn't realised he'd been quite that apprehensive about the jaunt;
some of T'Pol's logical objections must have taken root.  Reed just
grinned mockingly at him.  "You're out of shape, commander.  I thought
I hadn't seen you in the gym lately."

"Been busy," and keeping up with T'Pol in bed took a lot of energy. 
"You found anything?"  The answer was quick shake of the head and
Tucker sighed.  "We can't spin this out any longer.  Let's get up to
the bridge."

The successful firing of Pushkin's phase cannons cheered Reed up
considerably.  "Well, there you are, Captain Dexter," the armoury
officer reported after the trial, "offensive capability back on-line. 
Commander Tucker was correct in that you don't have a full field of
fire but better than nothing."

Dexter nodded slowly, looking from one of Enterprise's officers to the
other and Tucker felt the hairs rising on the back of his neck. 
"We'll be getting back to Enterprise, captain.  Let's go, Malcolm."

""No."  The flat denial startled both men but not as much as the phase
pistol that appeared in Dexter's hand, covering them.  "Over there." 
Shocked, they backed into the space indicated while Dexter passed the
weapon to another of his crew.  "Keep them covered, Rudi."  Then he
approached the tactical station and Tucker reacted instinctively.

"No!  You can't …"

"Rudi!"

The beam from the phase pistol dropped the engineer and Reed sunk down
under the weight of his friend's body, too shocked to wonder if it was
a corpse he was trying to cushion.  "Captain Dexter, what the hell do
you think you're doing?"

"Taking action to protect my planet."  The bridge lights dimmed for a
moment and Dexter smiled in satisfaction.  "Report."

"Enterprise has dropped out of the warp, sir," the woman at the helm
reported.  "Port nacelle is venting plasma."

"Good.  Helm, drop to impulse and plot a course to allow me to target
Enterprise's communications array."

"Aye, sir."

"This is madness."  Reed was still kneeling at Tucker's side, not
tempted to get shot himself by doing anything more threatening than
talk.  He looked around at the others, fellow members of Starfleet who
could not be allowing their captain to fire on her sister ship.  "Are
you going to let him do this?"

There was no response and Dexter smiled thinly even as he locked
weapons on the defenceless Enterprise.  "I'm sorry, lieutenant, but
they know Archer's sold us out to the Vulcans.  Fortunately Pushkin's
still loyal to Earth."  He hit the fire button and the phase cannons
pumped their payload into Enterprise.  "Report."

"Communications are down, sir."

"Helm, set a course for the nearest Klingon colony world, warp 3. 
Engage."

"You're going to start a war!"  Reed was incredulous even given their
previous suspicions.  "You're going to start a full scale bloody war!"

"Rudi, shut the whinging pom up!" and Reed too was dropped by a phase
pistol shot.




Archer and T'Pol had been reviewing reports when Enterprise was hit. 
Fortunately both were seated or the shock as the ship performed an
emergency exit from warp would have catapulted them both to the deck,
as it did to many less fortunate members of the crew.  The captain
didn't waste time swearing, just headed for the ready room doors,
T'Pol on his heels.  "What's going on?"

"It's Pushkin, sir."  Mayweather sounded understandably confused. 
"She'd just completed test firing her phase cannons – then she
targeted our port nacelle."

"Damage?"

T'Pol was at the engineering console in Tucker's absence.  "Warp drive
is off line and we are venting plasma."

"Get a team started on sealing the leak.  Where's Pushkin?"

"Returning to our position, sir," Mayweather responded and Archer's
lips thinned.

"Ensign Sato, hail them."

"No response, sir."  She too sounded uncertain.

"Charge the hull plating."

The ensign at tactical obeyed but reported, "Hull plating at 55% only,
captain."

"T'Pol?"

"There is secondary damage to some of the emitters."

"So improvise."

"That is Commander Tucker's department," but she began re-routing
power.

"Pushkin's moving into range, captain," Mayweather reported. 
"Firing."

Enterprise rocked and there was a burst of static from the comm.
station that made Sato jump.  "That was a direct hit to our
communications array, sir.  External comm.s are unavailable."

"Pushkin's withdrawing, sir.  Going to warp."

"Track her, Mayweather."

"Aye, sir."  There was a pause.  "Course … 147 mark 213.  That's … the
Kreos system, captain.  The Klingons have a colony on the fourth
planet."

"How large?"

"Last report … over twenty thousand inhabitants."

Archer leant back in his chair, mouth set in a grim line. 
"Sub-commander, I want that warp drive fixed - and I want it soon."

Reed woke and sat up in the same instant, probably not a good idea as
his traumatised muscles protested vehemently.  "What idiot invented
the stun setting?"

"You'd rather be dead?"

"Not when you put it that way."  Reed shifted painfully so that he
could lean against a wall.  "Is this the brig?"

"I guess."

"I never saw one from the inside before.  Can't say I care for the
dιcor."  He finally focussed on Tucker who was sitting cross-legged on
the floor opposite.  "What are you doing?"

"Meditating."

"Meditating?  You?"

"Why not?  Beats climbing walls.  Did Dexter destroy Enterprise?"

Belatedly Reed remembered that the other man had been unconscious by
then.  "No!  Disabled the warp drive and comm.s, then set a course for
a Klingon colony."

Tucker sighed, first with relief at their ship's survival then in
regret at the destination.  "Crazy son-of-a-bitch is dead set on
starting that war."

"I can't believe his crew obeyed him."

"I can."  The engineer's eyes had been on his folded hands but now he
raised them to stare at Reed and the Englishman was surprised at how
calm the volatile man appeared.  "What would you do, Malcolm, if Cap'n
Archer gave you what seemed like a real weird order?"  There was no
immediate answer and Tucker smiled thinly.  "Yeah, you'd do what I'd
do – follow it."

"But firing on another Starfleet vessel …"

"Dexter's got them convinced we sold out."

"We have to stop him!"

"How?  This is a well designed, Starfleet engineered brig.  You're not
meant to get out."

"You've not got any micro detonators on you, I suppose?"

"You're the armoury officer."

"So we're just going to sit here while Dexter catapults us into war?"

"Cap'n Archer'll come after us."

"Enterprise was venting plasma!  How long will that take to fix?"

"Dunno."  Tucker raised his hands to scrub at his face.  "I dunno,
Malcolm.  But if you believe in anything … maybe this is a good time
to start praying."



Archer was again in his ready room, this time reviewing Dexter's
service record to see if there was any information to be gleaned about
his combat weaknesses, when he was hailed from Engineering.  "Go
ahead, sub-commander."

"Warp drive has been restored, captain.  However, I have concerns over
its durability."

"We'll worry about that when it happens.  What about comm.s?"

"The entire array must be replaced.  Repairs cannot continue while we
are at warp."

"Then leave it and get up here.  I want as much information as
possible about what's ahead of us.  Archer out."  He pushed the
frustratingly unrevealing reports to one side and headed for the
bridge.  "Ensign Mayweather, set a course after Pushkin and engage at
warp 4.5."  He let the young man complete the task then asked, "How
long for us to come up with them?"

"Four hours twelve minutes, captain, assuming they don't alter their
initial velocity."

"A six hour start," Archer muttered, mostly to himself and Mayweather
looked around.

"We'll be there in time, won't we, sir?  Pushkin will still be two
hours from the Klingon colony when we catch them."

"But into an area of space where they can expect to encounter Klingon
ships.  One shot could be all it takes."




Reed glared resentfully across the small cell to where Tucker was
sitting peacefully – or just possibly dozing.  An attempt to teach
Reed to meditate had ended acrimoniously, leaving the Englishman to
grow increasingly tense.  A sudden change in the feel of the ship
penetrated his sulk and he aimed a kick at Tucker.  "Commander!"

"Hmm?" Then Tucker's eyes shot open.  "We've dropped out of warp."

"Just now."

"How long have we been in here?"

"It must be at least five hours."  The faintest of vibrations through
the floor and the armoury officer and engineer regarded each other
unhappily, differences forgotten.  "Phase cannons deployed."

There was a subtle change to the lighting.  "Hull plating's charged."

"Damn it!"  Reed's frustration exploded into anger.  "Why didn't he
just kill us and get it over with?"

"Probably because he wants us to fix whatever gets broken."

"Oh, right, we're well known for …"

He broke off as the door unlatched and both men scrambled to their
feet, tensed for action, until Rommel's scared face appeared. 
"Commander Tucker."  She was clearly badly shaken and he drew her into
the cell, a comforting hand on her arm as Reed went to check the area
outside.  "Captain Dexter … he's sighted a Klingon ship."

"And he's preparing to destroy it!" Reed snapped.  "Commander, it's
clear.  Let's go."

Tucker kept his eyes on the young woman.  "Dexter wants to start a
war.  Do you believe that now?"

Reluctantly she nodded.  "It's a freighter, not armed.  Ashok …
Crewman Patel … he objected and the captain shot him.  I was there."

"We have to stop him.  D'you know how far we are from the freighter?"

"Maybe seven or eight minutes.  Captain Dexter wanted them to see us
coming, that's what he said."

"To make sure they have time to report who attacked them."  Reed was
growing increasingly impatient.  "Commander, come on!"

"What's your plan, Malcolm?"

"Take the bridge.  There are stun grenades in the armoury."

"You've got five minutes.  Take Sarah with you.  Stay in touch."  They
both still had their communicators.

"Where are you going?"

"Engineering.  I'll try to cut power to the weapons – and if we can't
stop Dexter any other way, I'll blow the warp core.  Are you going?"

Briefly, Reed started to protest an action that would kill them all
then training and hard headed common sense took over.  "Yes, sir."



Continued in Part Five

--
Stephen Ratliff
ASC Stories Only Forwarding

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