Reflections Down a Corridor

Part 6 - Contact and Crabcakes

"When we break everything down," she said, checking a list she'd tapped out on her PADD, "it's, uh, ten. The salt, oil and egg are doubled up. The other seven are wheat, yeast, sugar, milk, crab meat, lemon juice and pepper. The, uh, butter is a version of the milk, of course."

"But you should be able to get the replicator to just make mayo, right?" Dan asked.

"We could," Will conceded, "but we still need to be able to make eggs and oil."

"Right now," Lili said, "the only ingredients we can reproduce are yeast, salt, sugar, milk, butter and lemon juice – and that's only because Shelby grows some lemons. But all of that other stuff – the oil, the egg, the wheat, the pepper and the star ingredient, the crab meat – as of today, none of that is reproducible."

"But you could just have the replicator make crab cakes, right?" Dan tried again.

"If we did that," Will said, "that would be all we could get. But if we make the components, then the replicator becomes a lot more versatile. I say we put oil, eggs, wheat and pepper on the wish list."

"So, no crab meat?" asked Dan.

"Not as a priority, sorry," Lili said, "Maybe if Craig gets into a groove, but no sooner."

"Oh."

=/\=

The Bridge crew hastily met, still on the Bridge. "All right," Captain Archer said, "we need a plan for dealing with today. T'Pol and I will come up with a long-term solution, but we need to be able to handle Tre'ex in a few hours."

"He shouldn't come here," Hoshi suggested, "he'd see too many of us."

"And he would see our technology," T'Pol stated, "There are no temporal contamination issues with any member of our crew going to the Xyrillin ship, however."

"Don't shake hands with any females, Cap'n," Tripp said, smiling a little, remembering. Very casual contact, a few years ago, had resulted in a rather unexpected complication – he had become pregnant. He thought of Ah'len for a second. She had not been born yet, he was sure of that.

"Got it," Archer said, "Other thoughts?"

"I suppose the fewer persons in contact with the Xyrillians, the better," Malcolm said.

"Vulcans have had contact with this species already, so I could go to the Xyrillian vessel with Mister Tucker," T'Pol offered.

"Then let's do that," the captain said, "It will be the three of us, and we won't volunteer any information. We're an exploration vessel. That much, well, it was originally the case, to be sure. We won't dawdle. Dismissed."

=/\=

The visit to the Xyrillian vessel was easier and quicker than the captain had feared. They asked few questions, and were pleasant people, as easy to work with as they had been during the NX-01's correct time period.

They got their plasma conduits and got out. "Well, that went pretty well," Jonathan said. "I, uh, I hope it won't contaminate things too badly if we rely on them more. We don't have a lot of friends out here. We sure could use some."

=/\=

Daniel Chang's Personal log, January twenty-second, 2154.

Life is so unfair.

All I did was talk a little about the women. That was it! I swear! And the Major got all hot under the collar and banished me to stupid KP duty.

I am stuck for a week! And it is so unbelievably boring, like you would not, well, believe.

Those people cannot stop talking about food. We spent over an hour going over freakin' crab cakes.

Crab cakes!

Shoot me now.

=/\=

T'Pol's Personal log, January twenty-second, 2154.

We had a successful contact with a Xyrillian vessel today. While that is an accomplishment, I am concerned that the Captain is not thinking these encounters through.

There was no preparation. It is my job as First Officer to assure that such contacts go smoothly. While this one was accomplished without incident, advance work would be advisable.

There are concerns about temporal contamination, and these concerns should be taken as seriously as any and all concerns about cultural contamination. Next time, the Enterprise might not meet such a friendly species, or the species might not have already encountered Vulcans. Or, perhaps, too much information will simply slip out.

That cannot be allowed.

=/\=

Phlox's Personal log, January twenty-second, 2154.

As the ship's physician, I am tasked with maintaining the crew's health and well-being, of course. That includes mental health. So far, I have not been approached about the changeover to a generational ship. However, I suspect that the visits and approaches will begin soon enough.

While I am prepared to help the crew, I need to, also, concern myself with my own state of mind. There are so many loved ones who I will never see again. It's funny. We should be able to visit Denobula, as my home planet has Warp Drive and has encountered Vulcans already. I could go to my city, if I so chose, although I am sure it will not look the same. And it will not feel the same, either, as Feezal and the others will not be there, of course.

I will be there to help the crew, but I also need help for myself, and I have no idea where I could find it, or who I could turn to.

What is it that they say?

It's an old human biblical quotation.

Physician, heal thyself.