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It was a normal day in deep space. Well, as normal as things got in space. Sub commander T'Pol was sitting in a secluded spot of the mess hall, quietly eating her Plomeek broth and reviewing scans taken during the night. It had been 4 months ago to the day that she had become a member of Enterprise's crew. While the senior officers were slowly coming to accept and trust her, she still remained distant and aloof to the others. Her view of humans was slightly altered since the beginning of the mission. Yes, she still thought humans were illogical and a highly irrational species. Sometimes their displays of passion disturbed her, but she was becoming used to them. A distinct smell reached her, and she looked up at the Chief engineer.
Charles "Trip" Tucker beamed down at her, blue eyes bright. He was the most illogical of them all, T'Pol thought. A brilliant engineer, he could be perfectly cordial one moment and seething with rage the next. She wryly noticed how she seemed to have the most potent effect on his disposition.
"Mornin'"
She acknowledged him with a nod and blink of her eyes. Trip sighed as he sat down with his waffles. No matter what he did, the Vulcan never willingly engaged in small talk.
"So, what's up?"
She raised a thin, elegant eyebrow. Again he sighed. This was going to be a long day if she was in another one of her Vulcan moods
"I mean, how are ya?"
"I am well."
"Glad ta hear it."
With that, trip decided to end the tiniest conversation he had ever had. Instead, he focused on his waffles, occasionally stealing glances at T'Pol. She didn't seem to notice as she focused on her PADD, but that meant nothing.
"What is it that makes you stare at me, Commander?"
Trip nearly choked on a large piece of waffle. Her keen brown gaze was now focused on him, and he shifted nervously. That was a very intense gaze.
"Nothin'" He muttered.
T'Pol was about to press for a less nebulous answer when the comm beeped.
"Bridge to Tucker" Trip gladly rose from the table and the brown eyes that threatened to bore a hole into his head. "Tucker here."
"Hey Trip, would you mind starting your shift five minutes early?"
"Not at all sir."
"Please run the message by T'Pol and have her come up too. Archer out."
Hearing her name, T'Pol rose, carried her tray to the clean up shelves, and walked out the door, trailing a slightly smiling chief engineer in her wake.
"Good Morning Trip, T'Pol" Archer greeted as they entered the bridge. Taking a seat at his consol, Trip smugly noticed that she didn't even nod at the captain. Not wasting any time, Archer began.
"We've picked up an automated distress beacon about 6 lightyears away."
T'Pol looked up. This was hardly anything out of the ordinary.
".with a garbled signature. There's no ship nearby, so we're not sure of its someone we know, or someone." he paused and then continued sheepishly. "..alien. I was hoping you could help Hoshi determine its origin, T'Pol."
"Of course." Was her only response. Head bent over her consol, T'Pol was already at work. Archer smiled at Trip. It seemed that Vulcans never procrastinated about work, but had no trouble procrastinating anything else.
About half an hour later, Archer glanced about the room. Two ensigns were at the helm and armory stations, filling in for Malcolm and Travis. Hoshi was sorting out mail, and T'Pol was still in the same position she had been in half and hour ago. Archer started to look away, but turned back quickly as something about the Vulcan changed. She frowned!
"Something wrong, SubCommander?"
No response.
"T'Pol?"
Her head shot up. "I apologize for my lack of attention." Hoshi hid a smile behind her hand. She could almost swear T'Pol's voice had been sheepish. Archer grinned, obviously just as amused as Hoshi.
"I was asking if something was wrong."
"The signature on that distress beacon is Vulcan."
This time Archer frowned. "Are you sure?"
"Yes." Archer sighed. He didn't like encounters with Vulcans. Almost every one had ended badly. He turned to the ensign at the helm.
"Plot a course for the beacon, warp 4.5"
One thing Archer knew was that Vulcans never did anything without a good reason. If the emergency automated beacon had been deployed, they were obviously in trouble. Settling back in his chair, he prepared to call Travis to the bridge, when a small sound caught his ear. Turning, he saw that Hoshi and Trip were both looking at T'Pol. She still sat at her station, but she gripped her PADD with white knuckles, staring at it as if she could bore a hole into it. He noticed that her face had become pale and a tinge greenish.
"What is it?" Trip asked
For the second time that day, T'Pol didn't respond when spoken to. She slowly lifted her eyes from the PADD, still clutching it. Her gaze locked with Archer's.
"Captain, I am unwell. I request a leave of my duties for the time being."
Archer was so confused he just nodded his consent. An instant later, she was gone.
"What the hell was that about?" Trip asked, voicing the thoughts of the three senior officers. There had been something in her eyes. He couldn't quite place it, but as the saying had it, she had looked like a deer caught in headlights.
In her own quarters, T'Pol wasted no time in sorting through her mail. Only three letters, one from her mother, two from colleagues. She nearly sighed with relief. On the bridge, she had nearly disgraced herself. Seeing the Kev'Lir on her scans of the beacon had awoken a strange emotion, one she couldn't quite place. Thoughts of Emris flooded her brain, as did a sense of fragile calm. There were no death notices; he must be alright. But then another thought wormed its way into her consciousness. Perhaps no one knew that the Kev'Lir had deployed its automated emergency beacon. These thoughts were like torrents of water, straining her mental barriers against the emotions. She sat down on her meditation mat shakily. They would arrive at their destination in 2 hours, and she wanted to be prepared for whatever she would have to face.
It was a normal day in deep space. Well, as normal as things got in space. Sub commander T'Pol was sitting in a secluded spot of the mess hall, quietly eating her Plomeek broth and reviewing scans taken during the night. It had been 4 months ago to the day that she had become a member of Enterprise's crew. While the senior officers were slowly coming to accept and trust her, she still remained distant and aloof to the others. Her view of humans was slightly altered since the beginning of the mission. Yes, she still thought humans were illogical and a highly irrational species. Sometimes their displays of passion disturbed her, but she was becoming used to them. A distinct smell reached her, and she looked up at the Chief engineer.
Charles "Trip" Tucker beamed down at her, blue eyes bright. He was the most illogical of them all, T'Pol thought. A brilliant engineer, he could be perfectly cordial one moment and seething with rage the next. She wryly noticed how she seemed to have the most potent effect on his disposition.
"Mornin'"
She acknowledged him with a nod and blink of her eyes. Trip sighed as he sat down with his waffles. No matter what he did, the Vulcan never willingly engaged in small talk.
"So, what's up?"
She raised a thin, elegant eyebrow. Again he sighed. This was going to be a long day if she was in another one of her Vulcan moods
"I mean, how are ya?"
"I am well."
"Glad ta hear it."
With that, trip decided to end the tiniest conversation he had ever had. Instead, he focused on his waffles, occasionally stealing glances at T'Pol. She didn't seem to notice as she focused on her PADD, but that meant nothing.
"What is it that makes you stare at me, Commander?"
Trip nearly choked on a large piece of waffle. Her keen brown gaze was now focused on him, and he shifted nervously. That was a very intense gaze.
"Nothin'" He muttered.
T'Pol was about to press for a less nebulous answer when the comm beeped.
"Bridge to Tucker" Trip gladly rose from the table and the brown eyes that threatened to bore a hole into his head. "Tucker here."
"Hey Trip, would you mind starting your shift five minutes early?"
"Not at all sir."
"Please run the message by T'Pol and have her come up too. Archer out."
Hearing her name, T'Pol rose, carried her tray to the clean up shelves, and walked out the door, trailing a slightly smiling chief engineer in her wake.
"Good Morning Trip, T'Pol" Archer greeted as they entered the bridge. Taking a seat at his consol, Trip smugly noticed that she didn't even nod at the captain. Not wasting any time, Archer began.
"We've picked up an automated distress beacon about 6 lightyears away."
T'Pol looked up. This was hardly anything out of the ordinary.
".with a garbled signature. There's no ship nearby, so we're not sure of its someone we know, or someone." he paused and then continued sheepishly. "..alien. I was hoping you could help Hoshi determine its origin, T'Pol."
"Of course." Was her only response. Head bent over her consol, T'Pol was already at work. Archer smiled at Trip. It seemed that Vulcans never procrastinated about work, but had no trouble procrastinating anything else.
About half an hour later, Archer glanced about the room. Two ensigns were at the helm and armory stations, filling in for Malcolm and Travis. Hoshi was sorting out mail, and T'Pol was still in the same position she had been in half and hour ago. Archer started to look away, but turned back quickly as something about the Vulcan changed. She frowned!
"Something wrong, SubCommander?"
No response.
"T'Pol?"
Her head shot up. "I apologize for my lack of attention." Hoshi hid a smile behind her hand. She could almost swear T'Pol's voice had been sheepish. Archer grinned, obviously just as amused as Hoshi.
"I was asking if something was wrong."
"The signature on that distress beacon is Vulcan."
This time Archer frowned. "Are you sure?"
"Yes." Archer sighed. He didn't like encounters with Vulcans. Almost every one had ended badly. He turned to the ensign at the helm.
"Plot a course for the beacon, warp 4.5"
One thing Archer knew was that Vulcans never did anything without a good reason. If the emergency automated beacon had been deployed, they were obviously in trouble. Settling back in his chair, he prepared to call Travis to the bridge, when a small sound caught his ear. Turning, he saw that Hoshi and Trip were both looking at T'Pol. She still sat at her station, but she gripped her PADD with white knuckles, staring at it as if she could bore a hole into it. He noticed that her face had become pale and a tinge greenish.
"What is it?" Trip asked
For the second time that day, T'Pol didn't respond when spoken to. She slowly lifted her eyes from the PADD, still clutching it. Her gaze locked with Archer's.
"Captain, I am unwell. I request a leave of my duties for the time being."
Archer was so confused he just nodded his consent. An instant later, she was gone.
"What the hell was that about?" Trip asked, voicing the thoughts of the three senior officers. There had been something in her eyes. He couldn't quite place it, but as the saying had it, she had looked like a deer caught in headlights.
In her own quarters, T'Pol wasted no time in sorting through her mail. Only three letters, one from her mother, two from colleagues. She nearly sighed with relief. On the bridge, she had nearly disgraced herself. Seeing the Kev'Lir on her scans of the beacon had awoken a strange emotion, one she couldn't quite place. Thoughts of Emris flooded her brain, as did a sense of fragile calm. There were no death notices; he must be alright. But then another thought wormed its way into her consciousness. Perhaps no one knew that the Kev'Lir had deployed its automated emergency beacon. These thoughts were like torrents of water, straining her mental barriers against the emotions. She sat down on her meditation mat shakily. They would arrive at their destination in 2 hours, and she wanted to be prepared for whatever she would have to face.
