They sat at their stations on the Bridge, all of them, even Tripp Tucker, who was usually in Engineering, but at that moment Jenny Crossman was watching the big machines.
Hoshi had been able to triangulate, bouncing a signal off a newly-deployed communications buoy. There was static on the line, but at least there was sound. "Just a second," she clicked various keys at her station, "Et voila!"
With a little bit of snow on the screen, the transmission could be clearly seen. It was a human woman. "And we're live from the New United Nations," she began, "I'm Martha Fernandes with the latest. Today, representatives of the NUN reiterated that, quote, 'no Earth citizen can be made to answer for the crimes of their race or their forebears', end quote. This progressive statement was mocked by a Corporal Phillip Green, who was able to interfere with the NUN's transmission. Here is Corporal Green's statement in its entirety."
The scene shifted to a young man in a military uniform, who said, "The New United Nations is a cruel joke on those of us who are out here in the trenches. Talking peace is ludicrous in this day and age! Men don't talk peace unless they're ready to back it up with war. This is not a time for timidity and second guessing. We cannot afford to doubt ourselves. Are you with me?"
There were cheering assents in the background. The screen returned to Martha Fernandes's face. "Green is new to the political scene, and we don't have a lot of information on him yet. Still, ...."
The screen went dark. "Hoshi?" Jonathan asked.
"I don't know," she said, "we seem to be working just fine, so I'm guessing it's them." Tripp came over to see if he could help her restore the broadcast.
"Is that Corporal Green the guy who became Colonel Green?" Travis asked.
"Possibly," Tripp said as he and Hoshi worked, "ya gotta figure he started out somewhere."
"Keep trying," Jonathan commanded Hoshi, "and record whatever you get. Also, try Vulcan and Denobulan transmissions."
"Aye, sir."
"It's rather odd, getting the news from a century ago," Malcolm observed.
"What do you intend to do with this information?" T'Pol asked.
Jonathan was about to answer when Hoshi interjected. "Captain!"
"What is it?"
"We're being hailed."
The captain looked at the faces of the Bridge crew. They had not planned for this. "Got any ideas as to what to do?"
"Uh, answer 'em," Tripp suggested, "and, uh, we'll hope for the best."
The vessel was Xyrillian. "I am Tre'ex," said its captain.
"My name's Jonathan Archer," was the cautious response.
"Are you working with the Imvari?" asked Tre'ex.
"That's a species we don't know."
"Then I suppose that's a negative," Tre'ex said, "They occasionally patrol the area, and can be difficult. They have captured a number of Ikaaran males for the Orion Slave Syndicate."
"Oh, uh, thank you for the warning. We, uh, we may be interested in establishing trade with you," the captain said, glancing over at Tripp.
"We may have mutual interests," replied the Xyrillian, "What are your specifications?"
"Commander Tucker?" Archer asked.
"Uh, this is kinda unexpected," Tripp said, "can we iron out the details with you in, I dunno, a few hours?"
"By all means," replied Tre'ex, "we can speak again later."
Communications cut, Jonathan glanced around the room anxiously. "Did we just destroy the timeline?"
"The ship would no longer exist," T'Pol stated.
"We can't simply blunder about, hoping that we won't destroy the timeline," Malcolm stated the obvious for all of them.
"No, of course not," the captain said, "we need to be better prepared, and know what to say. Because this is going to happen over and over again, over the course of the century. We'll get together a plan. In the meantime, consider if there is anything you need or you may need, all right?" he said to Tripp, "Let's not squander this opportunity."
=/\=
Lili and Will sat in the kitchen. Chang was there, emptying the sanitizer. "You can take a break," she said to him. His uniform patch said D. Chang. "What's your first name?"
"Huh?"
"Don't tell me you don't know it," she laughed.
"Oh, uh, it's Dan."
"Well, hiya, Dan," Lili said, "Yanno, we just don't know most of the folks in the MACOs at all. I think the only first names of the enlisted folks I know are Susie Money and, now, yours."
"There's too much separation," Will agreed, "but I suppose that's the fault of both sides. Tell you what; we're trying to make the list of the foods that Craig Willets will try to program into the replicators. Can you think of anything?"
Dan thought for a moment. "Uh, I wouldn't know where to begin."
"Let's try this instead," Lili suggested, "what's your favorite restaurant meal? And I'm asking about a restaurant meal because homemade foods are fraught with a lot of meaning. So let's look at something that doesn't really have any psychological baggage."
He thought again. "Uh, crab cakes, I guess."
"Now, let's consider what's in them," Will typed on his PADD. Lili also typed. "There's lump crab meat, of course. There's usually mayo in there, breadcrumbs and lemon juice, sometimes parsley or finely chopped celery to give it some color and texture. There might be chopped onions or scallions, too."
"Then the spices vary depending upon the recipe," Lili explained, "any idea what spices are in the version that you like the best of all?"
"Salt and pepper, I guess."
"There's usually also egg, to keep everything together," Will added, "Paprika? Garlic? Dry mustard powder?"
"I dunno."
"And it might not be regular breadcrumbs," Lili noted, "It might be Panko or even cracker crumbs, or something like that."
"They have to be fried, too, so there's also oil or butter. And we haven't even gotten to the sides yet!" Will said.
"I guess it's complicated." Dan shrugged.
"Consider the ingredients," Lili said, "and we'll keep the recipe really simple. So it's lump crab meat, egg, salt and pepper, breadcrumbs and mayo."
"Don't forget the oil," Will reminded her.
"Right, and the breadcrumbs are bread, of course, so they consist of, let's see, milk, butter or oleo, yeast, sugar or honey, flour, salt and more egg. The flour is wheat, but it could be barley or rye or corn, or it could be mixed grains."
"And the mayo is egg, oil and vinegar or lemon juice," Will stated, "Let's say lemon juice so that we have the juice for the crab cakes. How many ingredients are we up to, Lili?"
"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.