“Didn’t Hoshi say she was going to the bridge?” Selek asked as they walked into Sick Bay.
Dr. Phlox was standing next to a bushy potted plant crowned with a few spiky purple flowers, peering at a small wooden box mounted at eye level on the wall. A light bulb that was suspended a few feet above it was fading, so slowly that the change was barely perceptible.
Another person was bent over the wooden box, peering at it with some interest.
“How is she, Doctor?” They asked, leaning close to one of the few bits of natural wood anywhere on the ship.
“Sealed up for the night, as you predicted,” Phlox replied cheerfully. “The incandescent light and the 24-hour cycle seem to be helping. But this plant you thought of? It’s lovely! So fragrant. What’s it called again?”
“Basil.” The bent figure carefully rose into a standing position and turned around. “Much easier to grow than orchids.”
Selek’s eyes widened. It was the Chief Engineer of the Enterprise, Charles Tucker III.
“Are you checking on Dilemma at bedtime too?”
The two of them chuckled at the nickname that Trip had given the insect, which was a reference to her Latin name, Euglossa Dilemma, a type of green orchid bee.
“It’s become a habit, but I give the same attention to this whole menagerie at night. You seem to have a special bond with her.”
“Well, I admit, I feel responsible,” Trip replied.
The bee had appeared in Tucker’s quarters, likely a stowaway in his luggage. The species was common in his central Florida home.
By the time she was discovered, they were already well out of space dock, and it was too late to send the bee home. After rescuing her from the perils of the neon lights, she was brought to sick bay and made as comfortable as possible.
The Doctor already had several unique animals in his care and the Green Orchid Bee was a natural addition to the ship’s menagerie. Between him and the Engineer, they were able to construct a suitable home and produce a suitable diet for their guest.
Her next stop, outer space.
The bulb was dark and cold now, and the small opening at the top of the box was sealed with something that looked like wax.
“The ironic thing is, they got to Florida the same way,” Trip said softly, as if to avoid disturbing the small resident within. “As stowaways in wooden pallets, almost 200 years ago.”
“Chef loves it,” Phlox turned his attention back to the plant nearby. “He’s been coming down for leaves almost daily.”
Selek recognized the same kind of plant that his mother had given as a donation to the temple when he had taken up his duties. The one T’Nedara had asked him about it when he met her in the kitchen that night. It was difficult to keep his mind from wandering back to that fateful evening.
“Speaking of Chef, I’m late for dinner,” Trip straightened up and headed for the door. “Take care, Doc.”
He nodded towards Sick Bay before walking through the sliding doors.
Selek watched him leave and resisted the urge to follow. He waited a moment until the doors shut, then turned his attention back to Ah’len and Phlox.
“I should bring him a cutting,” Phlox thought out loud, thinking of the Chef, as he squinted at the leaves. “The ship needs more plant life anyway.”
A sharp whistle sounded over the comms.
All crew are ordered to return to their stations. This is a yellow alert.
“So much for dinner,” said Phlox.
“Why the alert?” Selek asked, as they stepped calmly back into the corridor.
“An incoming Andorian ship,” Ah’len replied. “It’s a battle cruiser, but so are most of them. It’s the Kumari, under the command of friendly enemy Commander Thy’lek Shran. He’s come before, but this time we’re ready and the plan was set.”
“Wait, how did you know they were coming? What plan?”
“A plan within a plan,” she smiled.
“I recognize the Frank Herbert quote, despite the slight variation.” Selek raised an eyebrow at her.
“I suspect you’ve already figured most of this out,” she said, partly to challenge him. He replied without a shred of doubt.
“I deduce that Shran has a legitimate plan to gather scientific information, but he secretly wants access to whatever Hoshi is working on. This is connected to what you, myself, and the Klingons want on Romulus.”
She nodded, smiling. The communications officer was likely translating the verbal component of the initial contact at this moment, and any information about the ship was essential to handling the situation.
“It’s uncloaked and approaching at low speed, so first glance seemed to indicate that their intentions weren’t hostile.”
The Andorians weren’t enemies with the humans, but the two races were on suspicious terms.
“Selek,” she turned to her guest. “I’m sending you to follow Captain Archer around for a while. I know you want to see the bridge anyway. Everything you see really happened. You can even ask your mom.”
Before he could respond, Selek blinked and found himself in the Captain’s private office. There was a hiss, and a visibly agitated Captain Archer strode in and flipped a switch on his desk. An Andorian flickered on the viewscreen.
