back to index previously on The Enterprise Incident The Effects of G Key on Vulcan Physiology © Xeen March 2004 This story is the ninth (and was hopefully) the last instalment of *The Enterprise incident* series. It turned out differently… This stuff takes place in a perfect world with no backrubs or Delphic Expanse.... … and has not been beta'd… so please, bear with me ;o) Probably best if you read the beginning first but it can be read as a stand alone. As usual, Trek ain't mine; I'm just playing with the characters. * Hoshi watched Archer blankly and bit her lower lip. /Does she think I'm going to get mad at her… or what? Archer wondered. / He was pleased with the fragile ensign finally stepping up and organizing cooking lessons for the crew. Interesting twist… He never knew she had the mind and the know-how of a cook. She had even achieved to attract T'Pol in the galley when displaying her vegetarian vision of Japanese cuisine. And here she was, theorizing on using the pulsing quasars and micro-singularities as communicating buoys. Archer smiled and resisted the temptation to wink. "I imagine that is a perfectly valid assumption Hoshi. What do you think sub-commander?" He turned to his first officer with expectation. He had made a point at teasing her for the last four hours without any success…. and now their shift was almost over. /I will succeed at making her lose her temper eventually, he thought. / That was all he had left. They have been stuck in a boring routine for more than ten days and he needed some action. Aware that making fun of her hieratic unimpressionable Vulcan attitude was childish and compulsive, he cast a glance at T'Pol and managed to hide a smile. She was trying hard not to burst out at his repeated in-jokes. Nevertheless managing to stay in control, she barely winced and turned to Ensign Sato. "If you are proven to be right eventually, this would be considered as a great improvement, ensign," she stated with a slight bow before returning to her view screen. "I'm picking up a massive disturbance, bearing 5.7, do you wish to investigate, captain?" she added, her voice hoarse, without meeting his eyes not acknowledging the beaming ensign. Archer stepped up, surprised at her unusual behavior. She was most likely repaying him for his poor attempts at wasting her time and trying to make fun at her expense. "What is it?" Eager for that most welcome discovery, he leaned over her. He was immediately overwhelmed by the cinnamon and honey scent of her meditation candle and his nostrils quivered. Unconsciously, he took a deep breath to regain his composure, making the scent even more intoxicating. Sexual fantasies involving a very different T'Pol popped up in his mind. She put the view screen back in its slot and turned to him with an unusual flare in the eye. Their eyes locked for a split second and he felt a tide of emotions reaching out to the surface. He stood up and stepped back in the same motion, feeling odd and embarrassed; the attraction had never been so compelling before that instant and he had to refrain from touching her. /What was it with her? She has never had that kind of impact on my libido… Phlox would be happy to learn that he was ultimately right: for absence of relationship and lack of healthy sex, I am falling for my science officer. / No. He was being unfair. He had known for quite some time that he had grown more and more attracted to her. She was beautiful, she was bright, she was funny… and she was out of reach. In the whole galaxy, he had to fall in love with the one woman who could not return his love. "Captain? Is there something wrong?" the unreachable Vulcan pushed, sounding more anxious than upset. "Errr… No, no!" "It appears to be a star cluster," she trailed, shifting on her chair, sending more signals to Archer. He frowned and took a good look at her. He could feel that she was on the verge of losing patience. T'Pol, losing patience? That was impossible… Or was it not? Could it be a side effect of the Pan'ar syndrome? Things had seemed to be out of hand since that virus attack when he was… away - again. He hated that repeated abduction thing with their new galactic "friends", missing crucial events on Enterprise in the process, but her concerned attention when he had been back was priceless. "What would you recommend sub-commander?" he asked going back to the reassuring by-the-book CO attitude. Now that he was a few feet away from her and back in control, he noticed she was somewhat agitated in terms of /vulcanity/. She seemed to need extra meditation time to say the least. Brows knitted, he did his best not to look worried and made a mental note to ask Phlox. This time, he would not take that patient/doctor confidentiality bullshit for an answer. T'Pol was clearly in trouble and her condition might put her at risk along with the rest of the crew, not to mention his ship. He blamed himself for trying to make her lose control and focused on her answer. For the first time, he noticed the circles under her eyes. "Enterprise is in no hurry," she stated matter-of-factly. "I recommend we take a detour and scan the area." "Any place we could stretch our legs for a while?" he asked, even if he knew the answer to that one. She was so predictable. "I would not recommend it captain," she stated, her eyebrow raised, her undecipherable eyes meeting his for the first time. /Bingo!!/ He hid a chuckle behind his hand. "Without going through proper procedure, it is virtually impossible to answer your question, captain. One cannot determine whether a landing party should be send and a shore leave organized," she said, utter disdain showing in her voice. "And must I remind you that your tactical officer is still in no condition to put up a response should the landing party or the ship face an attack?" He nodded. /Malcolm. Almost forgot about the poor guy. I will pay him a visit in sickbay. Phlox said he was getting better and better but all his synaptic links had been "fused" when he encountered the sick Vulcan at loose from decon. The Brit was still a bit paranoid, but has he not been ever? While in sickbay, he will try to worm T'Pol's secrets out of the physician. He was the captain, for god's sake! / "Mr. Mayweather, set a course!" Archer exclaimed, sitting back in the captain's chair. He gazed at the front screen, making every effort not to acknowledge T'Pol's odd behavior. "Let's have a look at that cosmic dust." He could have bet he heard her groan before she turned her back on him to take another look at the cluster on her view screen. * Archer was no ladies' man but Commander Tucker, Lt Reed or any crewman simply did not match up to him. It seemed that every beautiful woman was instinctively attracted to him. Privilege of rank, he smiled to himself. He did not have a clue of the hows and whys. It simply was this way, since he graduated from the Academy… maybe since College. So much for the uniform. He pushed some buttons on the screen and frowned. The image of the 602 and Ruby busy at the bar came out of the blue. /He would never have thought of rivaling Trip in all these years. Not his type. What was it with that continuing joke between them, about their children's first names or something? / He smiled again, engulfed in his memories. He was more the once in a lifetime type, even though he was not expecting to come across the perfect woman, romance her, marry her and live happily ever after until death shall part them. For a brief moment in time, he thought he had found her: Rebecca. He was only deluding himself. He was confident that some day, somehow, his soul mate would eventually show up. It seems she finally did. Unexpectedly. And the best course of action was… not to do anything. As the captain, he knew that 'regs' applied to him more than to any other crew member aboard Enterprise. He also knew for a fact that fraternization was to be expected on that kind of ship. Being away from home for extended periods of time was strenuous for the crew morale and he was ready to let the crew bond and much more. But, as a reference figure on Enterprise, he also knew he should comply with higher standards. Exploring space and set foot where no one has gone before was demanding and Enterprise an exclusive lover. He had taken this mission to heart, yet T'Pol had got in his way. *That* was not expected. He knew he should not have asked her out on a date but he could not resist so great a temptation. Glancing at her in the semi darkness of the movie night, he could not help but finding her desirable. Troubled, he handed her the ball of pop corn and to his utter surprise she took some with her hand. Her hand… Wait a minute! Vulcans do not touch food when they eat. Never. /With proper discipline, you can achieve anything/ That's what she had said the first time she had a meal at his table. She fought a bread stick the entire time and eventually proved him wrong. Bewildered, he watched her bite the pop corn and handed her the bowl again, barely noticing Phlox babbling in the distance. That pop corn was acting on her as a charm. Maybe he could compliment Chef for his recipe. He had heard that he was not that pleased to be regarded as the ship's pop corn provider. However, she was most than willing to share the bowl and he lost track of time. Was she kidding when she said that she was going to recommend "The Bride of Frankenstein" for the High Council to watch? Why not giving a chance to modern flicks like "The Return of The Jedi's Son"? At least, Terran CGI techniques were far superior to Vulcan's when it came to entertainment! * /She wants to give Travis MY book for his birthday! / An exasperated Archer was pacing his quarters, Surak's works taunting him on the shelf above his bed. The door chimed, stopping him instantly. He spun around, ready to dismiss the untimely visitor. Porthos let a sigh escape him and cast an upset glance to his beloved master. "Come!" Archer said, and not even slowing for a heart beat, "Trip! I need your help." "Cap'n, anythin' you need…" Commander Tucker said, sacking down on the nearest chair. "Ya sure 'ave ta give me the chance ta win the next game. I can't feel my arms an' legs…" he trailed, massaging his thighs. He stopped talking when he noticed the deep furrow on his friend's forehead. "Wassup?" "I need to find a present for Travis," the captain snapped back. "Okay… and? I betcha didn't ask me up here to discuss Travis's present, did ya?" Archer sighed. "Sub-Commander T'Pol doesn't know what to give him either. She says… well, you can imagine what she says!" he added, resuming his pacing. "Sooo… that is all it is about." "What do you mean?" "Never mind," Trip shrugged. "Trip, you don't understand, I need your help!" Trip winced at his agitated friend and took a good look around him. His quarters were a mess and sweaty sports clothes were piled up about everywhere. Jon had been working out and exhausting himself at the gym. But it obviously had not worked… He shook his head and sighed in unison with Porthos. "Jes' don't you turn me into a matchmaker please!" he joked. Archer stopped dead in his tracks and turned to him, infuriated. "Take it easy!" Trip exclaimed. "To find Travis a present?" he quoted. "It can't be that bad, can it?" "She wants to give him my Surak's!" "Your Surak's? For chrissake what is a Surak? What do ya mean?" "I mean… she wants to give him my b… the same book she gave me when we took that shore leave on Risa." Archer sat down on the edge of his bed, elbows on his thighs. His head dropped to his chest. "I guess I'm kind of overreacting here…" "Yup, kinduv'. Jon, it's only a book! I didn't picture you as the jealous type," Trip said, jumping with a triumphant smile at the obvious conclusion. "I'm not!" Archer almost yelped, startling Porthos. He was back on his feet and pacing again. He massaged his neck and fingered his hair, barely avoiding the frontal collision with his ceiling beam. "Well… You're right." He shook his head. "About anything seems to get on my nerves. I'm getting paranoid." He locked eyes with his friend. "Not as in Malcolm paranoid Reed!" he added with a nod, eliciting a grin from Trip, "don't get me wrong. She never touched me. I mean… touched me the way she did with Mal!" Embarrassed, Trip cleared his throat and made a great show at looking at his feet. "Ya should discuss that with Phlox, Jon." "Not if I can avoid it. The last thing I need right now is another attempt at Denobulan Freudism." He violently shook his head again and sacked back down on the bed. "You're right Trip, I will talk to T'Pol." "Ehh! I never ever hinted that!" Trip protested with a flame in the eye. "Do you still need me, cap'n? I could use some time down in engineerin' if ya don't mind…" "Sorry Trip… and thank you." Trip shrugged and stood up. "Anytime," he said with a bright smile, punching the command on the door. The door chimed and a very puzzled sub-commander stood still in the doorway, her eyes riveted on the mess in the captain's quarters. "Maybe, it is not the right time. I will come back." Her voice was even and she looked as stern and stiff as ever. "No, no!" Archer yelped, shifting from one foot to the other gesturing Tucker to the doorway at the same time. "If you don't mind the…" "Untidiness?" said T'Pol as she stepped in, letting the commander left as the same time. "I won't be affected by the odor either. My nasal numbing agent is still functional." That last stroke made Archer winced. "Please sit down, sub-commander." "It won't be necessary. I just came to show you my last survey of the cluster. You were proven to be right ultimately. We will probably find the proper way to refine those crystals we found down there and put their properties to use." "Good," he said, holding out a hand. He took a quick look at the PADD and sat it on the corner of the bed. "How did you call it?" "I think that given its composition Tellurium/Lithium, naming it Dilithium was an option." "I'm not questioning that sub-commander, merely stressing that it seems you never came across those crystals before." "I'm not familiar with every silica-poor "planetesimals" which do not undergo significant parent-body metamorphism during its formation," she said matter-of-factly. "But you are correct. We do not use this type of crystal on Vulcan." "Good," he repeated, "so I must assume that *we* made a discovery?" "Quite correct again, captain. But you have to consider that other species could very well be aware of the existence of these crystals and even manufacture them." "What do you think?" "Due to its optical properties, it could very well be used in the construction of our new Deuterium engines." "I hope that your Vulcan High Command will be willing to share that technology with Earth?" "It is not my position to answer for the policy of the Vulcan High Command on that matter." He sighed. How irritating she was and how accurate at the same time. "There's something I'd be glad to discuss with you sub-commander." "I have had no time to investigate Ensign Sato's insight." He quickly waved her to stop. "About Travis…" "Is there a problem with Ensign Mayweather?" ".... his birthday present?" he hinted. "I can recall that we discussed that matter already." "Huh… I was thinking that maybe we could come up with something a little more personal that 'Vulcan Flying Escape Patterns Drills for Senior Pilots' or THE Vulcan philosophy treaty. I manage to find this in my stuff." He took a book from his desk. "From Earth to Moon?" she questioned him with a puzzled look on her face. "It seems appropriate." "Jules Verne was a…" "I know Verne's work captain. You are right. Mr. Mayweather may download the Vulcan database without my help. I am glad that you found the right present for him." "You think so?" He was beaming. "Quite." She stood up. "Unless you wish to come to my quarters to meditate, I will go now," she said, retrieving her PADD. "Have a good night sub-commander. I think I will pass for tonight." She arched an eyebrow. "Very well." The door slid shut behind her swift silhouette. * Archer checked the bridge. The screen was black and void: no asteroid for the next twenty light years. Malcolm was back to his post. He had reviewed the last 72 hours report in no time. He was presently updating his data on the console and was paying little attention to his crewmates. ."You sure?" Archer asked Reed again. Even with the physician assurance that his tactical officer was back to his normal self, he could not help but being cautious. Two minds in one body? No. Not in his book, especially when it came to his tactical officer, the one he would have to rely upon in case of any attack on Enterprise. Phlox had talked him into complex mind transfers, very common in Vulcan medical history from what he understood. The physician had probably better eyes and ears than his captain since he had been spending several hours looking for that 'katra" he had discovered and was so thrilled about. Archer was not eager either in allowing extra mind exchanges now that T'Pol's syndrome was proven to be incurable. Once again, Phlox assured him he had taken every precaution and that the Pan'ar virus was unlikely to mutate and to be transmitted to human. Something with copper based… whatever. From the explanation he had gathered, it looked more like a vampire act to him. He almost got the giggles. The Bride of Dracula… "Quite sure, captain. I must catch up on my work and reset all alarm procedure. I will have to make another drill…" was Reed's confident answer. "Not now Malcolm. If you're sure you don't want to attend the party, then, I'm on my way. The bridge is yours!" "Aye, aye captain," answered the formal officer without another thought. Archer turned his back to him and entered the turbolift. Malcolm had something on his mind… They would have to sort that out when the party is over. He shrugged. Tomorrow is another day, he thought, straightening and adjusting his collar. * The party was a true success. Archer did not expect to have so much fun. T'Pol was not showing though. He was hesitating on which course of action would be best. He did not want to make her come over if she was not willing to. Unconsciously, he was enforcing his scrutiny upon every short haired woman in the mess hall. He finally made it to the doorway, sort of hoping that she will eventually show up would he be near the entrance. He was even ready to go and get her in her quarters, at least see why she had changed her mind. He was tossing nervously the small package from one hand to another, smiling profusely around. A chance that the king of the party was not yet arrived either. He noticed that most of the crew was in their civvies. Hoshi was stunning in her traditional bird and butterfly on a snowy mountain kimono. Even more exotic was Phlox in his glimmering beige tunic. He wished he had had more time to change. What if T'Pol was in those Vulcan ceremony robes? He could not wait. He was feeling like a teenager on the night of the prom. "Here you are, sub commander!" He heard himself almost shout and took her by the elbow to hide his trouble. Even in her everyday outfit, she was outstanding. He had never been that keen on those robes anyway. He managed to get to the buffet. Now that the quiet humming of the engines was concealed by the music of the party, it could have been any conventional party on Earth. Except that on Earth, no Vulcan would ever have attended such a party. He was glad she had. He had chosen the finest champagne from the Captain's cellar and was enticingly holding out the glass to his second in command. He was perfectly aware that Vulcan did not drink wine but she had had a taste of Hoshi's chocolate cake during this afternoon before party ultimate cooking lesson and Vulcans were not known for having a sweet tooth either. He pushed again. She was not only reluctant to take the glass, there was coyness to her he was not accustomed to. "Won't you change your mind and try this, sub-commander?" he said, leaning down on her shoulder, his mouth to her ear. He could almost feel the sparkles bubbling on his chin. He found it hard to breathe when the smell of the wine entwined with her personal spicy odour. "I'm quite certain captain. I have some more research to do." Now, she was going to give him the busy science officer speech. The hell with cluster, dilithium and singularities! "I should probably get back to my quarters." He felt overwhelmed by the urge to take her in his arms and protect her. There was definitely something wrong. "You're teasing me, aren't you?" he said, managing to take control of his emotions that came rushing dangerously near the surface. She shuddered and shifted from one foot to another to finally clasp her hand on his sleeve. "I was simply teasing you, sub-commander," he took her by the arm and managed to get a good look at her. Her complexion had turned a deeper shade of bronze and her gaze was unsteady. She almost looked as a drunken Vulcan. A drunken Vulcan? She was staring at him, her eyebrow half rocketing under her hair. "You do think I should give this beverage a try?" There was definitely something Phlox was hiding from him. He knew that Cutler had given her regular shots since that unfortunate episode with Reed. He might find Phlox and get the truth out of him. The sooner, the better…. T'pol had a shadow of a smile on her face. A smile? He said the first thing that came to his mind. Something he had heard when he was too young to drink champagne. "Champagne is not really alcohol, more like wine." /It is wine, you, idiot! Come on, say something articulate for once! / "Take a sip. I won't take no for an answer… not this time." /Come on Archer, it that all you can come up with? That's the most pathetic lines I've ever heard. Amazing that so little champagne and a beautiful Vulcan can turn you into a plain fool. You're making her blush. Find Phlox. Now. / "There is a small amount of alcohol in wine." She was sick but not beaten, he thought. He had to find out what was going on. Before he had the chance to argue about it, Hoshi went between him and the sub-commander, turmoil of fluid silk. "I shall be happy to give you a full Vulcan physiology class, Captain." Phlox's comment went unheard by the Vulcan. She was gone. Archer felt his good mood was suddenly deserting him. He turned to the unpredictable doctor, ready for some action. Speak of the devil…. "Here comes the cake, Captain," was his immediate reward. Someone started to sing and the whole mess hall was soon echoing with the sound of music. Archer sang along, a bit too loud. He felt on edge. T'Pol's attitude had made him worry and he won't let go of Phlox before he had sorted the whole thing out. Now that everybody was kissing everybody, the mess hall was turning into a mix of New Year's Eve and birthday party. Travis was beaming and managed to blow all the candles but one, eliciting some more uproar from his female crewmates. Archer made his way to him and handed him the book. He was snatched and before he knew, he was seated in front of a piano he had never seen in his life. "Surprise!" said Trip's voice to his ear. "Now, it's time to paaaarty, cap'n!" he added with a pat on his shoulder. "Come on, play something inviting for us, poor forbidden crew stranded in the most remote quarter of the quadrant! I bet Hoshi can use a good dancing partner tonight, if ya know wut I mean!" he added with a wink. Archer spotted T'Pol. She was talking to Cutler and Travis. Elisabeth will have it under control, he thought, his mind hazed because of champagne. He put his hands on the keyboard and began to play. He saw Trip granting him a thumb up and leaving his view to look for Hoshi. Someone put another glass on the piano and he let himself engulf in the music. He had missed playing the piano… and singing. Before he knew, he had already played half of his Sondheim, all his Gershwin and was making an encore of "Pick-a-Little" from the Music Man. When he finally stopped and faced the frenetic applause from the crew, the party was almost through and T'Pol long gone. * He was glad he had made it in one piece to the quiet of the bridge. Even through the haze of Champagne, he was able to feel Reed's disapproval of his being back clearly intoxicated. What the hell! It was the middle of the C shift, he needed to watch the stars in full panavision… and for the love of God, she was his ship, not Malcolm's! Tonight, he had every right. He sacked down on the Captain's chair and did everything he could to avoid the half angry stare of his officer. He shot a quick glance to the scientific station. What ever happened to his resolution of grilling the good doctor until he managed to get out of him the full debriefing on T'Pol's condition? He sighed and let himself be caught in the magnificence of the flying stars facing him. Tomorrow. First thing tomorrow. He will make Phlox summon his first officer to sickbay and will join them over there. He pondered that if the patient herself was willing to let the physician unveil her condition, there should be no more confidentiality attached. He knew they were not out of the woods yet. T'Pol had been acting weird for weeks now and he was tired of having the whole situation out of his hands. As far as he was concerned, she had been a threat to Reed and to Phlox, since he had gathered contradictory information about some repairs Trip had to make in decon. He lost track of time. The smooth sound of the powerful engines was soothing to his mind. As he was sobering down, he had second thoughts about forcing the physician and the Vulcan to the full disclosure he had first envisioned. It was a matter of trust and he was certain that the physician would not withhold information from him should it endanger Enterprise and her crew. He suddenly felt more relaxed as the burden was taken off his shoulders. The hiss of the turbolift doors startled him out of his reverie. He turned to the noise and got up, walking absently towards T'Pol. "Sub-commander?" T'Pol was in full ceremonial mode. Her dark beige robe was making her look more imposing that her usual outfit. There was a fire burning in her eyes. She stepped out of the turbolift carrying a case that seemed bigger than her. Reed immediately stood up, ready to defend the bridge and the captain. Archer gave him a reassuring nod and silenced him with the hand. "T'Pol? Can we assist you?" Demonstrating her strength, she held the case in front of her, presenting it to Archer. "I have come to perform the to rang temur t'hy'la of kunat kali-fee for you," she said in a harsh voice. "Very well. Do you need my assistance?" Archer asked again. As for Reed, he was obviously eager to assist him. His hand was reaching out to the concealed weapon he knew the tactical officer duct taped hidden under his console. He nodded again, asking him to postpone any aggressive move. "I do not," T'Pol slightly bowed and proceeded to open the case and unfold whatever was inside. Reed was on tenterhooks. Shifting from one foot to the other and glancing from the captain to the Vulcan. His recent experience was haunting him and the last thing he was wishing to witness was another intimate violent assault. In his will to prevent it, he ignored the second hiss and unexpectedly faced Hoshi who was exiting the turbolift. She stopped instantly. Archer motioned her to go quietly to her station. She did, swiftly gliding on her traditional wooden shoes not even uttering a sigh. What was she doing here in the middle of this shift was beyond him. Was not she supposed to be Trip's date for the evening? Turning his attention back to the Vulcan petite woman, he discovered she had unpacked a bizarre set of strings and metallic pipes. She sat down on a small stool and began to get the instrument tuned. Relieved, Mal sat back down at his station. Don't go to the party and the party will come to you. He gave Hoshi a big wink and waited for the show to begin. And it began. That was the most unbearable series of sounds any human had ever heard. A true anguish passed on Hoshi's face and Reed tried to put his hands on his hears to stop the pain but collapsed. Archer felt unsteady and underwent a wave of nausea. Swaying uncomfortably, he stumbled upon his chair. His eyes were about to pop out of their orbits and his guts to turn into jelly. He clasped his hands on the armrests and took a deep breath in a useless attempt to stop his head from spinning. He barely heard Hoshi calling sickbay. "Doctor, you should probably help us here on the bridge." "Could you elaborate, please?" Phlox answered with his usual jovial tone. "This is the sub-commander, doctor Phlox," said Hoshi, trying her best to cover T'Pol's music. "I don't know what to do," she whispered before she turned the communication off. Archer mouthed a silent thank you to the ensign and did his best to cover his ears while the physician was hurrying to the bridge. That was his entire fault. He had no idea that performing some live music would make her react the way she was…. … he perfectly knew though that Vulcan never, n-e-v-e-r, had any alcohol beverage. Now he knew why. There was definitely a lot he intended to talk to his 2IC and the ship's physician before the shift is over. (tbc on When Meditation Fails) |
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