~*~ Even at his age – even being Vulcan! – Tuvok felt uneasy. And it wasn’t just the fact that he didn’t care for these events of frivolity that Neelix always seemed to come up with… these parties with no intellectual stimulation or meaning… just a means for the crew to eat and drink and socialize. No, there was something else tonight, something that was abuzz in the undercurrent of the gathering, something of which he was not cognizant. However, whatever it was, it appeared to be of major interest to everyone in the room. People glanced at him as he walked by, only to quickly divert their impolite stares if his eyes made contact with theirs. Conversations abruptly halted when he made an attempt to join in; body language became defensive and protective. Whether the reactions were intentional or not, they were most obvious. Uncomfortable – that’s what he felt. Uncomfortable and isolated and separated. This was most unusual and most un-Vulcan like for him to feel this way. While he was not normally a social creature, these actions tonight disturbed him; something was highly amiss. His eyes searched the room for a person or small group with whom he might feel comfortable enough to ask them if he was overreacting to these unusual sensations. He saw the captain chatting with the doctor and approached the twosome. They saw him coming their direction and he noted their conversation ceased, replaced with forced smiles and nods from each of them. “Good evening, Tuvok,” the captain said cheerily. “Quite a nice party this evening, isn’t it?” He noted that her mouth said one thing but her eyes shone with apprehension. He turned to the EMH, who lowered his head while clearing his throat. Tuvok began to inquire of them if there was some reason for his unease, but decided against it; he did not want to further their discomfort. He nodded in response to Capt. Janeway. “Indeed, it is quite an exuberant gathering. Mr. Neelix does seem to succeed at providing these functions. If you do not mind, Captain, I would like to take my leave now.” Janeway shot a quick glance towards the doctor, wondering if Tuvok had heard something. She noted an almost unperceivable shake from his head and decided to continue. “Oh? Why so early? I’ve heard that Harry and his group are providing some music a little later.” Tuvok stiffened his posture. “I am somewhat weary, Captain. I believe some meditation and reading would be best for me.” “As you wish,” she responded. “Take care – and rest well.” “Thank you,” he nodded back. He turned to leave the boisterous room, but he felt every set of eyes follow him as he departed. ~*~ Not even meditation brought Tuvok back to a comfortable state of mind; whatever was going on had eaten through his stoic veneer. The following morning, the Vulcan decided that perhaps he was being irrational; perhaps there was something wrong with him physically and this was playing tricks in his mind. A visit to the doctor might be in order; yes, that should clear things up. Voyager’s EMH looked up after a forty-five minute thorough examination and sighed. “Tuvok, I can’t find anything wrong with you. All of your medical findings are the same as your most recent physical. If you could elaborate a little bit more what really seems to be bothering you – “ Tuvok hesitated – the EMH was not exactly the most trustworthy confidant aboard Voyager, even given doctor/patient confidentiality. Maybe a ‘generic’ explanation would suffice. “It is probably nothing, doctor. Perhaps I need to discipline my mind and spirit more.” “Nonsense! Maybe you just need to talk with someone. Try me,” he cajoled. Tuvok took a deep breath – would any good come of this? “I have sensed a feeling of discomfort lately. This ‘emotion’ became extremely strong last night at the party in the messhall, and it was not just the fact that I do not care for these social events that Mr. Neelix thrusts upon us with increasing frequency. No, there was something last night that seemed to be of prime importance to everyone; but it seems to be at my expense. People would cast sideways glances at me as I passed by, only to divert their glances if I made eye contact with them. If I attempted to join them in ongoing conversations, they would suddenly cease talking or nervously begin with an obviously different topic. “I truly felt uncomfortable, and this is not true to my nature. I am beginning to feel as if people are intentionally avoiding me. Something is amiss and I wish to understand what I have done to cause such reactions from my crewmates. Do you know anything? Has anyone spoken to you? Can you help me?” The doctor began to fidget, engrossing himself in the busy work of replacing his examining instruments to avoid confronting Tuvok’s inquiry. He started to speak only to catch the words before they were spoken. “Doctor, I do not wish to plead with you. I sense that you do know something about this situation.” The doctor tried to quell his rising nervousness. “Well, yes. There is a certain story making the rounds, one that I have tried to tell people is untrue. But I can’t really come right out and say anything, for that would be unethical – and you know that I wouldn’t want to do anything that would go against my ethics.” “Of course not. But since this does involve me and I am the one who is making the request, I would appreciate your telling me.” The EMH cleared his throat before proceeding. “All right; I’ll… um… tell you. But please understand that I had nothing to do with this; I have no idea how the story got started.” He sat down on the biobed beside the Vulcan, knowing that the words might offend the normally staid man. With his best bedside manner and compassionate demeanor, the EMH relayed the details of the sudden public interest into the most intimate nature of the man who prided himself in secrecy and privacy. Much to the doctor’s surprise, Tuvok listened with interest but detached emotion, nodding in comprehension as the details poured forth. At the conclusion of the narrative, he stood and prepared to leave. “Thank you, doctor; I appreciate your candidness.” The EMH swallowed. “Is there anything else I can do for you? Are you all right?” “I am feeling much better, now that I know the source of my discomfort. Thank you again.” “Tuvok – “ the doctor called out. But the taller man had exited without any further words being spoken. ~*~ The doctor’s story clarified the reason for all the looks and stilled conversations, but Tuvok knew that something had to be done once and for all to quell any further speculation and rumors aboard the ship. It was time for him to act; to take matters into his own hands, so to speak. With the captain’s permission of course. He headed towards his quarters, summoning his senior officer as he made the trip. “Janeway here,” she responded. He calmly made his request. “Captain, I would like your permission to call a meeting of the senior staff.” “Of course,” she answered. “May I ask why?” “I would ask that you trust my judgment and allow me to state that I have my reasons.” “Is there something I can help you with, my old friend?” she asked. “No; it is something of a personal nature, for which I need to assume sole responsibility.” Still puzzled, Janeway agreed. “Very well. I’ll call everyone to the briefing room for a meeting at 1700. Would that suit your requirements?” “It is most satisfactory, Captain. Thank you.” ~*~ Tuvok entered the briefing room a few minutes past the appointed time, greeted by a lively buzz of conversation coming from the eight people already sitting around the table. Captain Janeway had relayed them that she was as much in the dark about the meeting as they were – that all had been arranged at Tuvok’s request. The group looked up at him, surprised that their usually punctual tactical officer was the last to arrive, and he was several minutes late at that. Their faces reflected further puzzlement when they noted that he was not in uniform but rather came in one of his plain Vulcan robes. Unspoken speculations floated across all of their minds – was he resigning from Starfleet? Why? What would it gain him out here in the God-forsaken reaches of the Delta Quadrant? He walked to the empty end of the table, making no attempt to sit down. He casually clasped his hands behind his back and began speaking in a calm, composed manner. “I appreciate Captain Janeway allowing me to call you all together. I am certain that each and every one of you has questions about this action on my part. Let me assure you that there should be no apprehension regarding my request – or my presence out of uniform.” A collective sigh of relief came from around the table with his words. His straightened posture assumed the confident poise that told them that indeed ‘their’ Tuvok was indeed standing in front of them. He nodded and continued. “It has come to my attention that in recent days there has been a story being told among the crew. Indeed, some of you may have even heard it.” With his statement, he noticed that every face in the room reddened; some of his fellow officers hung their heads, ashamed that he knew that they knew – not a very professional image! “I have called you together to address this story and answer any questions you might have.” Before anyone got a chance to respond, he released the fabric belt that encircled the closed robe. In one swift move, using both hands, he pulled aside the opened edges of the robe, holding them well to the outside like wings on a pinned butterfly, revealing the smooth umber skin of his naked torso. A hairless chest, taut and sculptured, tapered to his narrow waist. A stomach as flat as any found on a twenty-year old completed his body, supported by the muscular towers of his legs. He stood with his legs far apart, allowing all in the room to see everything that there was to a frontal view of his body, including his dark flaccid phalanx, hanging like a stilled pendulum between his thighs. Gasps rose from all. Janeway and Torres at least had the courtesy to blush; Seven gawked with innocent surprise. The other males seemed to quickly access in their minds comparison of his appendage with their own personal ‘equipment’. Tuvok pivoted, making sure that all could see everything he was presenting. “I trust that this demonstration will put to rest the story that is currently in circulation. As you can plainly see, I am just as any other man. There is no truth at all to the rumor that my penis is bifurcated.” With the same silent movement with which he opened the robe, he closed it. “I trust that you will fulfill your responsibilities as senior officers and correct this piece of misinformation among your staffs. I would also expect that this be done in an objective, instructional way without any reference as to how you learned the truth to the story.” He turned and left the room, leaving the eight people speechless – and wondering how they could debunk the most interesting bit of rumor around Voyager in quite a while. ~ THE END ~