ACT ONE
FADE IN:
EXT. SPACE - ABOVE ALPHA CENTAURI A
Several Vulcan Ringships orbit the planet, each logically placed to provide maximum protection for the planet. A number of smaller ships can be seen moving around the planet but they are too far away to identify accurately.
Still bearing the scars from her engagements with Tellarite vessels, the EX-01 glides silently through the void. Maneuvering thrusters fire as the damaged Enterprise slowly approaches the gargantuan drydock that floats in orbit over the planet below. Station umbilicals begin to stretch out and EV suited figures rapidly approach the battered vessel to assure hard seal of those umbilicals. As the connections to the drydock are secured, the warp nacelles of Enterprise dim and gradually fade to darkness, a clear indication that the warp engine has been taken offline.
INT. ENTERPRISE - BUSY CORRIDOR
Her nose crinkled ever so slightly in what might be distaste; SUB-COMMANDER T'POL frowns ever so slightly at the figure walking beside her. Not a hair appears to be out of place upon her head and, dressed in her standard uniform, she is a picture of poise and grace.
COMMANDER CHARLES “TRIP” TUCKER III, however, is anything but that. His uniform is dirty - in the interests of accuracy, one might call it filthy - and his hair is damp with sweat. Streaks of some unidentifiable substance cover the jumpsuit he is wearing (not the normal uniform) and there is a single wide smear of it covering the left half of his face. And from T'Pol's reaction, he doesn't exactly smell very nice either.
It is also patently clear that the two are - once again - arguing.
T'POL
How can you construe the Vulcan defensive presence as an aggressive action?
Tired, sore from obvious exertion, and more than a little cranky, Trip shoots her a dark look as he replies.
TUCKER
Are you serious?
(beat, off her stoic expression)
Ten warships seems like a bit much.
T'POL
(hard)
They are not warships. Vulcan does not have warships.
TUCKER
Well, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck...
Once again, T'Pol frowns.
T'POL
The D'Kyr-class cruiser is a defensive vessel. They are present only to provide protection for the mediation team.
Still talking, Trip moves out of the way of two crewmen carrying a large chunk of metal debris through the corridor; without thinking, he enters T'Pol's personal space, causing her to take a half step backwards in retreat. Trip doesn't seem to notice, so intent on getting out of the way of the working crewmen.
TUCKER
That's crap. You Vulcans butted in on an Earth matter that didn't involve you.
(beat, sarcastically)
Again.
The two crewmen past, Trip resumes his steady pace down the corridor. Once again, the Vulcan sub-commander wrinkles her nose as she replies.
T'POL
The government of Alpha Centauri requested Vulcan mediation.
TUCKER
The legal government didn't.
Something flickers in T'Pol's eyes that just may be frustration as they arrive at the turbolift; without pausing, Trip presses the button to summon a lift.
T'POL
It was a legitimate transfer of power-
Trip interrupts her, annoyance on his face.
TUCKER
At the point of a gun! There's nothin' legitimate about that!
(beat, suddenly tired sounding)
I don't get you Vulcans. You wouldn't help us against the Nausicaans yet here you are, jumping at the chance to screw us over.
T'Pol frowns at the assertion that her species is intentionally acting against Earth, even as Trip pushes the lift summons button again - as if that will cause the turbolift to arrive any sooner.
T'POL
That analogy is flawed. Your government requested our assistance in a war of reprisal against the Nausicaans.
(beat, off his sudden frown)
Overt aggression and a desire for retaliation is the hallmark of barbaric and primitive cultures.
He gives her a sharp look.
TUCKER
Then why do you even bother havin' a space fleet?
(beat, frustrated)
Seems to me that the Ministry of Defense is just a military under a different name and the military is nothin' more than an "overtly aggressive" institution.
The lift door slides open and Trip reacts automatically by allowing her to enter first. He follows her, pausing only long enough to hit the destination button on the inside panel.
T'POL
Defending one's self is logical.
In the seconds before the door slides shut, she finishes the thought.
T'POL (CONT'D)
(with a condescending air)
Particularly from the aggression of less advanced civilizations.
The door slides shut on Tucker's outraged expression.
INT. ENTERPRISE - ANOTHER CORRIDOR
The door to the turbolift slides open, revealing the two commanders still arguing. Tucker's expression is more annoyed now than before as they both start to take a step forward. Once again, the human pauses, allowing T'Pol to precede him through the narrow doorway, even though he doesn't stop speaking.
TUCKER
(louder than absolutely necessary)
-don't need a Vulcan peacekeeping force! This whole situation is a human matter!
Without pausing, the sub-commander begins walking toward the nearby door of the captain's office, followed closely by Tucker. In the background, we can see a pair of crewmen glance at the two arguing officers before exchanging a knowing look and continuing on to their duties, steering clear of the argument; apparently, such an occurrence has become routine in recent days.
T'POL
You've made your opinion perfectly clear, Commander.
She stops in front of the office door and presses the chimer to announce them.
T'POL (CONT'D)
(wryly)
Several times, actually.
Before Trip can respond - he's starting to think she times this sort of stuff so he can't respond! - the captain's voice can be heard through the doorway.
ARCHER (OFFSCREEN)
Enter!
The door slides open and the two commanders disappear through it.
INT. ENTERPRISE - CAPTAIN'S OFFICE
From the moment we enter the office, it's immediately clear that CAPTAIN JONATHAN ARCHER is seriously pissed off. He stands at the viewport in almost a parade rest stance with both hands clasped together in the small of his back, while glaring at the drydock and the planet beyond. The tension in his body language is unmistakable. Seeming to notice the anger in the air, both T'Pol and Tucker exchange a quick glance, their argument temporarily forgotten.
ARCHER
(terse)
Report.
His eyes narrowing slightly, Trip responds ... even though it should be T'Pol's job as First Officer to speak; she shoots him a slight frown as he speaks.
TUCKER
Warp drive is offline and we're moored to the drydock. Damage Control teams are still checking in.
(beat, off of Archer's nod)
I've got Kelby drawing up a list of our priorities now. You should have a repair schedule on your desk in an hour or so.
ARCHER
Good.
(beat, as he turns to face them)
Earth is sending us a supply ship that should be here the day after tomorrow and they want a list of the parts you'll need.
As Trip acknowledges this with a nod, T'Pol speaks up, no hint of the annoyance she is feeling at the engineer; it is her job to inform the captain about their status, not his.
T'POL
Will the supply ship have replacement crew, Captain?
A LONG BEAT passes in silence - the only sound that can be readily discerned is the background hum of the ship. Archer's face reflects his sudden misery and guilt over the casualties taken in this, their first mission, and he glances away in a vain attempt to conceal the emotion that plays across his face. At the same time, Trip shoots a hot glare at T'Pol, angered that she would be so ... crass as to bring up their losses in such an indelicate way. Unconcerned at their emotional reaction, she returns his look with a blank expression: the question had to be asked and she feels no remorse for asking it. Finally...
ARCHER
(soft)
Yes. Replacements are en route as well.
(beat, stronger)
I want a memorial service arranged for seventeen hundred hours shipboard. All senior officers to attend.
T'POL
Yes sir.
Archer draws a deep breath, once more donning the Captain “hat” as he turns his eyes to his chief engineer.
ARCHER
Trip, I need your best estimate on how long until we're back up and running.
Tucker scratches the side of his face, seeming to realize for the first time that his face is streaked with filth.
TUCKER
(partially distracted by the dirt he's just discovered)
Factoring in full assistance from Centauri, I’d-
ARCHER
(interrupting, angry again)
Don't. Acting Governor Cheet has limited planetary assistance to the drydock.
Trip's face reflects his own flash of anger at this new information and scowls at the drydock beyond the viewport for a BEAT. In that moment, we can see a Vulcan cruiser drift into Tucker's field of vision, partially concealed by the drydock. Rolling his tongue along the inside of his cheek, the engineer continues, clearly making mental calculations.
TUCKER
Well, in that case...
(beat as he considers)
Two weeks. If we're lucky.
That is clearly not what the captain wanted to hear and his expression reflects his surprise.
ARCHER
Two weeks! Please tell me you're joking.
TUCKER
What d'ya expect, Cap'n? If we're down to just havin' access to the tools on the drydock and have to make all of the repairs ourselves, two weeks is pushin' it!
ARCHER
You can't expect us to sit here for fourteen days!
Standing quietly by the doorway in the cramped office - closer to Commander Tucker than she's entirely comfortable with – Sub-Commander T'Pol observes the exchange with mild surprise in her eyes. From their body language, one would think that the captain and the commander were angry with one another, although that doesn't make any sense.
She also notes something else quite interesting: when Commander Tucker is tired, his accent is more pronounced.
TUCKER
I've got too much work to get done and not enough bodies to do it.
(beat, suddenly crafty)
Now if you could authorize me to use Reed's people for grunt work...
Archer abruptly smiles, as if he recognizes what Tucker wants. He nods.
ARCHER
Done. I'll sign the paperwork as soon as you get it to me.
(smirking)
Now how long will it take?
TUCKER
(returning the smirk)
I can have us operational in ... six days.
As the two men share a smile, T'Pol discreetly frowns, still not entirely sure what to make of the exchange. It seems an illogical waste of time: if Commander Tucker needed additional personnel, the most prudent course of action would have been to file a formal request. She files it away for later reflection and addresses her superior officer.
T'POL
Captain ...
Archer's good mood begins to evaporate - but clearly remembering the order from Admiral Forrest to watch his tongue around his Vulcan first officer - he turns his attention to her, nodding for her to finish her thought.
T'POL (CONT'D)
Regarding the Alpha Centauri situation...
(beat, off his darkening expression)
Have we received instructions?
Archer sighs heavily, glances back at the viewport. The Vulcan cruiser that was there moments ago has moved out of sight.
ARCHER
Funny you should ask that.
(beat, off her raised eyebrow and Trip's curious look)
I just received instructions from Admiral Forrest and Earth regarding this whole ... fiasco.
(beat, with a sour look)
Enterprise doesn't even have to leave orbit.
Confusion flickers across Tucker's face and T'Pol raises an eyebrow as we quickly fade to...
INT. ENTERPRISE - HANGER DECK
Dressed in his service blues - the “dress” uniform of UESPA - Archer stands before the hatch of Shuttlepod 01, issuing instructions to a much cleaner than before but no less tired-looking Commander Tucker.
ARCHER
We shouldn't be too long. This is more a preliminary meeting with Cheet's people than an actual negotiation.
TUCKER
(shrugging as he smiles)
You're the diplomat, sir.
The entire deck is alive with activity as ENSIGN TRAVIS MAYWEATHER, seated at the pilot's station of the 'pod, warms the engine up. Two flight deck crewmen are circling the pod with scanners and checking to make sure that it is fully functional as MAJOR MALCOLM REED approaches with LIEUTENANTS AMANDA COLE and SUN CHEN; all three are heavily armed.
ARCHER
It'll be fine, Trip.
(beat, to Reed with a hint of disapproval)
Sidearms only, Major. This is diplomacy, not a combat situation.
Both Reed and Chen appear momentarily disgruntled before the Major nods. Without a word, he and Chen begin stripping off their heavier gear and pass it over to Lieutenant Cole. For a moment, Archer and Tucker are distracted by the sheer amount of gear that the two soldiers were fielding but the captain shakes out of it.
ARCHER
(to Trip)
You'll be in command while I'm gone.
(beat, suddenly mirthful)
Don't wreck my ship.
Tucker rolls his eyes, almost as if this is a private joke between the two of them, before stepping over to lend Lieutenant Cole a hand with the extra gear. He returns her grateful half smile with a distracted nod even as he speaks over his shoulder to the captain.
TUCKER
Good luck, sir!
EXT. SPACE - DEPARTING ENTERPRISE
Engines burning bright, Shuttlepod 01 departs from the rear of the EX-01 and quickly races toward the planet.
INT. SHUTTLEPOD 01
Seated in the flight operations seat - behind and to the left of the pilot - Captain Archer observes Ensign Mayweather's smooth hand on the controls with approval on his face. The captain quickly glances around the interior of the 'pod, noting the white knuckled grip Ensign Sato has on her restraints ... a grip that is virtually identical to the one that Lieutenant Chen has on his own seat restraints. Sub-Commander T'Pol, seated across from Major Reed near the back of the 'pod, appears as stoic as ever, her eyes half closed in partial meditation or perhaps simple boredom. Reed, however, is obsessively examining his sidearm and looks up to meet Archer's eyes.
Abruptly, the shuttle shakes a little bit and both Chen and Sato draw in sharp breaths, tightening their death grips on the restraints that hold them in place. The captain's attention quickly returns to Ensign Mayweather and the flight controls.
MAYWEATHER
(over his shoulder)
Sorry about that. Space turbulence.
Recognizing an old pilot's trick intended to freak out first time passengers, it's all Archer can do to keep from laughing at the absurd notion of “space turbulence.” He leans forward.
ARCHER
(whispering)
Ease up on them, Travis. This isn't the Vomit Comet and I don't want to have to clean my boots before we land.
Mayweather grins broadly and exchanges a knowing look with the captain - in that instant, they've bonded: two pilots who recognize shared interests.
ARCHER (CONT'D)
You seem pretty familiar with this flight design.
MAYWEATHER
Yes sir. Kind of reminds me of this old T-16 my uncle had for a while.
ARCHER
(joking)
Watch what you're calling old, Ensign. I earned my zero-gee rating on a T-16 trainer.
Smirking, Travis glances back at his commanding officer, mischief dancing in his eyes.
MAYWEATHER
Damn, sir. I didn't know you were that old. Those things are obsolete!
Archer smiles and begins to reply when the comm. panel activates.
CENTAURI FLIGHT CONTROL (COMM VOICE)
Enterprise Zero One, we have you on approach. Stand by to receive landing instructions.
Without further comment, the captain leans back in his seat and allows his pilot to do his job.
EXT. ALPHA CENTAURI - SPACEPORT - DAY
Dipping out of the clouds, Shuttlepod 01 makes a near perfect landing, touching down upon a designated landing pad. Seconds later, its engines begin cycling down. The hull of the 'pod is bright with reflected heat, after-effects of their re-entry. In the distance, we can see several non-military craft - probably Boomer ships due to their ungainly appearance - lifting off.
After long moments, the shuttlepod hatch opens. Major Reed and Lieutenant Chen are the first to disembark from Shuttlepod 01; although their sidearms remain holstered, it is absolutely clear that they are ready to draw them in a moment's notice. Archer appears at the hatch of his shuttlepod a moment later and looks around in mild surprise.
ARCHER
(soft, mildly annoyed)
Hmph. No one to meet us...
REED
Lieutenant Chen, find us ground transportation.
(beat, as he nods)
Captain, this way, sir.
Bemused at the major's over-protectiveness, Archer nods and follows.
EXT. ALPHA CENTAURI - CAPITOL BUILDING
Twin groundcars slow to a stop and the two-person military detail quickly emerges from the vehicles, acting as if they were members of a Secret Service detail. Captain Archer climbs out, followed quickly by Sub-Commander T'Pol and Ensign Sato. Ensign Mayweather emerges from the other vehicle and quickly joins them. Nothing is said as the six take a moment to study the damage before them.
Debris litters the streets, most from explosions but all of it jarring. There is virtually no activity on the street and it is eerily silent. All of the humans appear to be disconcerted but T'Pol is visibly unaffected.
INT. CAPITOL BUILDING - MAIN LOBBY
Striding up the stairs and into the Capitol Building itself, the small group can't help but to notice the fact that there is much damage that could only come from small arms fire. Archer pauses before a statue of Zephram Cochrane, now nearly damaged beyond recognition from weapons fire. His expression is difficult comprehend - it is equal parts anger, sadness and disgust.
ARCHER
(soft, thick with emotion)
Look at us now.
(beat, suddenly disgusted)
How far we've come.
Suddenly, the sound of rapidly approaching people snap their attention to a distant door. A dozen heavily armed men, many bearing still healing injuries, rush into the room, their weapons held at the ready. Neither Reed nor Chen hesitate, drawing their own weapons the moment that the soldiers appear. Travis responds nearly as quickly, drawing his own pistol as he looks around with wide eyes.
HELMETED SOLDIER
Drop your weapons! Drop them now!
We focus tight on Archer's surprised face and ...
FADE OUT.
END OF ACT ONE
Continue to Act Two
