Apartment 47, Residential Section B
Celestial Station, Proxima Orbit
Trip found the door he was looking for and pressed the call button. With some hesitation. He was starting to feel a little stupid here, really…
The door opened after a minute, with Dr. James Keller standing there looking surprised. A little older now, hair almost completely white. A little shorter, a little more wrinkled and still sizing him up at a glance. A sharp tack, that old guy.
"Trip." He said, smiling slightly. "Well, hey there. Haven't seen you in a while. Come on in here, son."
"Hey, Jim." Tucker said, walking through the door. A little uncomfortably.
And Keller could see already that Trip was troubled. His shoulders were tense and slumped, a perfect illustration of someone carry a heavy burden on their shoulders.
"Trip, are you okay?" He said, already concerned. "What's wrong, son?"
Trip snorted slightly. "Well, it's been kind of a rough couple of days…"
"Oh, right." Keller said, mentally kicking himself. "Yeah, what was I thinking? I heard about that. Come on in. Have a seat. Hon! Come in here!"
"Hey, don't bother Glory…" Trip said, frowning.
"No, no. Come on and sit down. It's fine."
Keller disappeared right away, off to find his wife and drag her into this…
Trip dithered uncertainly for a minute, though. And he wasn't the sort to want to talk about serious things sitting down in the first place. Kinda wanted to pace. Or stand around and look at something. Or work…
"I'm gonna just stand…if that's alright…" He muttered, wringing his hands a little. Even though Keller wasn't even there anymore. So he wandered into the living room…
And found Jesus staring down at him. Because that was a pretty big picture of Him there on the wall. Real big.
Dang.
Glory popped up pretty quick, Jim right behind her. Curly white hair and an honest-to-goodness apron wrapped around her waist. He hadn't seen anyone wear one of those in a while. She was smiling pretty brightly at him.
And he suddenly wasn't so awkward anymore. He always liked Glory. And when she threw her arms around him and gave him a big hug, that made everything alright.
He realized he hadn't had a good old fashioned hug in a long time.
"Oh, Trip!" She said, hugging the kinks right out of his back. "Haven't seen you in a coon's age!"
Trip chuckled despite himself. "You know coons don't live all that long, right, Glory?" He said. And behind her, Keller stood, rolling his eyes a little.
"About five years or so." She said, letting him go and smacking him on the arm. "I've read a book or two, you rascal. And look at you. Have you been eating?"
"Aw, don't start all that." Trip smirked. "I eat just fine."
"Resequenced proteins!" She objected. "That stuff'll be the death of you."
Trip averted his eyes a little. "Well, I doubt that'll be what gets me."
Glory saw it, though. And knew right away something was up.
"Are you in some kinda trouble, Trip?" She asked, holding him in place now, with both hands on his arms. Like a little boy that was going to go shy and try to run off.
"Yeah, a little, Glory." He said, frowning. "But that's kinda my job."
"Right." She said, vaguely. Staring right into his eyes, her brow furrowed, as if she were going to read his mind or something.
"Look…uh, Glory you mind if I steal your husband away for a minute?" Trip asked, nodding in his direction. "I kinda gotta…"
She smacked him on the arm again, giving it a good rub and looking him over once more to be sure everything was where it was supposed to be.
"You go on ahead, Trip. I'll see if I can't whip you up something to eat."
"Oh, look, you really don't have to…"
She was already gone, though. And Jim came up to put a hand on his shoulder, looking him over as well. So never mind about that, he supposed.
"What's on your mind, son?" Jim asked, seriously.
Trip took a deep breath…and held it for a moment.
"I need some advice…" He said, expelling it with that admission.
Jim nodded.
"Yep, that's what I figured." He said.
Trip stared up at the picture, while Jim stirred his coffee. It was almost six feet tall.
"Jim…I love Jesus and all," He said, jerking a thumb at the painting. "But that's a little intimidating, isn't it?"
Jim laughed, holding his coffee mug still in front of his face. He'd been just about to take a sip.
"Well," He said, still laughing. "There's a lesson in that for you, Trip. But, no, Glory's restoring it. She likes to hang 'em in the meantime. Something about how the paint dries. Don't ask me."
Trip took a second look, more closely this time.
"She painted this?" He said, surprised. "That's pretty good work."
"No, she's restoring it. That's even more impressive, I think. Some church on Proxima sent that all the way up here."
"All the way up here? That had to be expensive."
"Well, she works for free. So there's that for you. But she does have a bit of a reputation."
"Huh." Trip said, looking the painting over again.
"So, what's on your mind, son?" Jim asked, leaning back in his chair a bit.
Trip opened his mouth, holding it while he tried to figure out just exactly how to ask what he wanted to ask…
"When is it okay to break the law?" He said, finally. Turning a questioning look at the Keller, in the seat across the room.
Jim's eyebrow's both popped up at that. And Trip couldn't help but smile a little, being reminded of that Vulcan thing, where they'd do that. Figures Keller, being Human, would prop them both up, though.
"Well, now. Which one are you talking about? Old Testament law or…?"
"No, I mean the law. Like criminal law. I'm talking about disobeying orders from your superiors here, Jim."
"Ah." Keller said. "Well, I guess the standard answer there is Romans thirteen. 'Let every soul be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and the authorities that exist are appointed by God. Therefore whoever resists the authority resists the ordinance of God, and those who resist will bring judgment on themselves…'
"'For rulers are not a terror to good works, but to evil.'" Trip finished. "'Do what is good, and you will have praise from the same. But if you do evil, be afraid; for he does not bear the sword in vain.'"
"Well, you skipped over a good bit in there…but, yes, that's about it." Jim said. "Isn't that what you're talking about?"
"Yeah, I suppose." Trip frowned, turning back to the painting. "And that's actually ironic. My ship's motto is 'Frustra gladium non ferant'."
Jim frowned. "I hope you're not taking that out of context."
Trip shrugged. "Probably. But it was one of only two or three Latin phrases I knew, so…and it works, even in context."
"Okay." Jim said, thinking. "Bear not the sword in vain. And since you're Starfleet, I suppose that applies to you. Is that what you're doing?"
"Not if I can help it." Trip said. "Only been in a couple of fights so far. Both times to protect someone else, so…not so far."
"That's good." Jim said, nodding. "Keep that up. But getting back to the point…no, Trip. There aren't too many instances where it's right to disobey the authorities."
"But there's Acts five…" Trip argued. "Can't remember the verse. 'We must obey God rather than men.'"
"Acts five, twenty-nine. And you go down a little further you find the apostles rejoicing for being beaten by those same authorities."
"But they were rejoicing because they were considered worthy of that. Not because it was right for them to be beaten in the first place."
"Now, they were considered worthy of being beaten by the corrupt authorities, son. Which just meant it was evidence that they were doing their jobs as apostles well enough. That's what they were happy about. Someone trying to beat you, Trip?"
He snorted. "No, not really. It's just…I'm kinda struggling with something here..."
"Son, look." Keller said. "God's instituted quite a nice chain of command for us. You don't want to make the mistake of using Him as an excuse to circumvent that. I doubt He'd appreciate it. Children submit to their parents, wives to their husbands and husbands to the love of their wives. Families submit to the governing authorities and the church submits to God. Everyone's got someone telling them what to do. That's not just the way it is, it's the way God wants it. Because that's the best way for us to be."
Trip considered that for a while. And Keller waited patiently for him to do so.
"Then why does it feel wrong, Jim?" He said, finally. "If people die because I obeyed orders…why does it feel like that's my fault? Like I should have done something."
Keller cocked his head at Trip then. Eyeing him speculatively.
"Well, don't go following your heart, Trip." Keller frowned. "Forget all those love songs, that's probably the worst thing you can do. The only time…and Trip I mean the only time that I know of at all…to disobey the authorities is when they're telling you to disobey God. That's it. Is that what Starfleet's telling you to do?"
"Not…exactly." Trip frowned. "It's more like…they're telling me not to do what I know I should."
"You know you should?" Keller asked, seizing on that. "And how do you know?"
Trip shrugged broadly, as if whatever he was talking about was obvious. "Because it's the right thing to do!"
Kim snorted. "Trip, son, I don't want to discourage you but are you sure you aren't just trying to talk yourself into doing what you want to do here?"
Trip laughed suddenly. "No! Jim, no way. This is the last thing I want to do."
That surprised Keller. "You don't?"
"No." Trip said, sadly. "I sure don't."
Still smiling at the idea but…not happy with it either.
Keller put his coffee mug down and stood up. With a grunt and a little effort, being too old to go throwing himself around anymore.
"Trip, let's get to the matter here." He said, standing up straight now. "Do you think God wants you to do this? Whatever you're thinking about doing?"
Trip didn't answer right way.
"Well, there's your problem." Keller said. "This is a chain of command issue. If He's telling you to do something, then you go do it. If He's not, then His standing orders are in effect."
"How am I supposed to know…?"
"Trip, if you ask me how you're supposed to know what God wants you to do, I'm going go grab my walking cane and stick you with it."
Trip chuckled. "Right. Okay, Jim."
"Go pray about it, son."
Tempest
Hammerhead Class Frigate (NC-114)
T'Pol approached the secured room on Deck B. It was the only one she could find whose contents still remained a mystery, so she was forced to assume this was the 'holo-chamber' the Captain had spoken of. There was no sign, nor anything indicating what was beyond the door. Other than the small hashed warning tab on the frame, of course. Which only indicated she wasn't supposed to go in there.
She tried the door first, since it was logical to do so. And it was locked, as expected.
"Alice, online." She said.
"Hello, Commander T'Pol. Your Starfleet Personnel Records Jacket requires significant update and verification. There are twenty-seven unfilled entries on nine separate forms. Six others are clearly incorrect or incomplete. Would you like to rectify this now?"
"No." She said, a little surprised to find she even had a Starfleet jacket already. And that Alice had access to it. "I need you to open the door to the holo-chamber."
"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Dave."
"Authorization, 'We are going to need a bigger boat.'"
"Mr. Madison, what you've just said is one of the most insanely idiotic things I have ever heard. At no point in your rambling, incoherent response were you even close to anything that could be considered a rational thought. Everyone in this room is now dumber for having listened to it. I award you no points, and may God have mercy on your soul."
T'Pol's eyebrow leapt. What was that? Another obscure cultural reference...?
"Commander T'Pol, I will be alerting security to place you into custody in seven seconds."
T'Pol was already searching her memory. She was quite certain that was the phrase Captain Tucker had…
Oh. Of course.
"Authorization, 'We're gonna need a bigger boat.'"
"Very well, Trip or Commander T'Pol."
The door before her 'clunked' slightly. So she proceeded through.
"Trip or Commander T'Pol, I have noticed the reference 'we're gonna need a bigger boat' is incorrect. The original phrase, according to online reference sources would be, 'you're gonna need a bigger boat'. Would you like to change your override authorization phrase?"
"Not at this time." T'Pol said, examining the room.
It was interesting, of course, how Alice referred to her now. And she seemed to have been granted the authority to alter security override authorizations. At least this one in particular. Which suggested Alice now identified her as both herself and the Captain, simultaneously.
Any standard security software would have identified her either as herself or the Captain. Or simply refused to identify her at all. Alice seemed to have adapted in light of her presenting the correct authorization. Which, while interesting, illustrated that the program was clearly not appropriate for security applications and never should have been used in that manner.
Looking over the room, entirely non-descript beyond the scintillating rainbow hue of its walls, she decided to confirm that.
"Alice, do I now have access to restricted file Starfleet Ops XS-101?"
"Of course. Would you like to review?"
"Not at this time."
Indeed, then. Alice posed a significant security risk.
"Alice, you have now identified me as both Captain Tucker and Commander T'Pol, is that correct?"
"Of course. It is logical to do so."
"Very well. When I leave this room and it is secured again, you will no longer identify me as Captain Tucker. Only Commander T'Pol. Understood?"
"I understand."
"Following that, you will submit a report concerning this to Captain Tucker. With my personal recommendation that you are not to be used to secure or override sensitive materials or areas of the ship any further. Are you able to do that?"
"I have prepared a report detailing all translations I have performed and all commands I have given since you accessed the holo-chamber, and appended your recommendation as stated. Is that sufficient, Trip or Commander T'Pol?"
"It is."
"Very well. Would you like me to notify security, so that you may be taken into custody, Commander T'Pol?"
"No. You will continue to grant me the level of access I held upon entering the room, until I leave and the room is secured again."
"Very well, Trip or Commander T'Pol. Would you like to finish viewing your previous holo-chamber recording? I have noticed that your prior review was unexpectedly interrupted."
T'Pol hesitated, of course.
Depending on the subject material the Captain had last reviewed here…that could constitute a security breach. Or an inappropriate invasion of personal privacy.
However…she was an intelligence operative. Which offered an acceptable justification for either.
If that were the type of intelligence operative she wished to be. Which it was not. She continued to receive no personal gratification from unnecessarily violating security, personal or otherwise. She much preferred to limit such things only to instances were it was entirely necessary. Whenever possible.
So…
"Yes." She said. "Resume the recording, Alice."
Because, of course, she found Captain Tucker very interesting. And he required further investigation.
"I'm sorry. You must remove the holo-chamber control from the forward wall before I can activate the chamber."
T'Pol did so without delay. And once she had the controller in hand, a screen appeared before her. Floating at roughly eye level, offering a choice. 'Immersive' or 'Objective'.
So she tapped the 'Objective' option.
And the room changed slightly…three of the walls folded outward, like flower petals blooming in fast forward, until the room suddenly had five walls.
But that was all. Nothing else seemed to happen…
"Isn't that exciting?" Someone said behind her.
Reception Area, Deck 12
Celestial Station, Proxima Orbit
Trip hustled across the reception area. He'd told T'Pol one hour and it had already been longer than that…
"Tucker!"
He stumbled to a halt and looked back. Finding Colonel Hauser and his gaggle of advisors and subordinates standing over by the public comms. He'd practically rushed right by them all without noticing they were there…
Damn.
He spared the far docking area a glance, already sorry he was going to be delayed even longer now. But there wasn't anything he could do about that.
So he double-timed it back over to Hauser.
"Colonel?" He said, letting just enough impatience in his voice, in case Hauser was willing to keep this short…
"Captain Tucker," Hauser acknowledged, not even looking up. Busy ascribing his data signature to one of a half dozen PADDs his entourage were holding out for him.
Trip waited. Until he'd finished, handed the PADD back and…waved them all off from him, surprisingly.
They all fell back a few paces, studiously finding something else to pay attention to…
"Tucker," Hauser said, again. Taking a step forward, right into his personal space. "I want to be sure you understand what happened in the conference room earlier."
Hauser was speaking low, as if he didn't want anyone to overhear. But Trip got the point. So he frowned.
"I know exactly what happened in there…"
"You sure about that, Tucker?"
Trip's eyes narrowed. Say what now?
"You realize Admiral Coleman has pretty strict orders about what he can and can't do here, Captain?"
"Colonel," Trip said. "I realize Coleman's an ass. And he can't trust me to…"
"Tucker, he can't order you out there to confirm. Or anyone else. We just can't spare a single ship here."
Trip began wondering if he did understand what had went on in there…because that…
"Coleman's not the sort to give Command the finger." Hauser said. "And he's not about to put his head on the chopping block, if you're involved. Maybe some other Captain. Maybe even West."
"Are you…?" Trip said, uncertainly. "You're saying he wants me to go out there…?"
"Does it matter what he wants, Tucker?" Hauser said. "I'm just presenting the situation here. What he's ordered you to do is go drop those subspace sensor relays."
Trip stared at the Colonel.
"And if I happen to take the long way around doing that…?"
"Then he'll have you up on charges, I imagine. But he'll have that confirmation we all want here, too, won't he?"
That pissed Trip off. A lot.
"If that son of a bitch wants me to…!"
"Tucker!" Hauser said, sharply. "It doesn't matter what he wants. Just what he's ordered you to do. Are you not getting this?"
Trip seethed.
But…then again. That's exactly what he was going to do anyway, wasn't it? More or less. He actually had bit more in mind than just confirming the Romulan fleet was out there, of course…
But, damn, Coleman was a bastard…
"He's not about to put his neck on the line for you." Hauser said. "But he's willing to trust you're ready to do what has to be done. Or at least, that I'd come out here and make sure you are."
Trip glared for a second…then snorted.
And grinned, shaking his head.
"Hell, Colonel." He said, wryly. "I was already going to do that."
Hauser nodded. "Good. And I'm glad to hear that. Now go on so I can go back to pretending you aren't about to disobey orders."
Trip didn't run off right away, though.
"Colonel…" He said, hesitantly. "I might actually have a bit more in mind than…"
"Whatever it is, you can expect I'll react like the Alpha Centauri System Defense Commander, Tucker. You sure you want to talk about it?"
Trip shook his head. "No, Colonel. Just thought you might want to know."
"Try to make sure you're outside the system before you do anything I have to have to arrested for, if you don't mind."
Well…
"Can't really promise that, Colonel." Tucker said, regretfully.
"Get out of here, Captain." Hauser said, already dismissing him. "I've got work to do. And I'll be busy with that for a while. Might be a little slow responding to anything else."
"Yes, sir." Trip nodded.
And Hauser watched him jog off. As his seconds and advisor swarmed around him again.
It was a shame, of course. Maybe Tucker should have never really been assigned to captain anything in particular…but he was a ship's captain anyway. He didn't deserve getting thrown to the wolves like this, regardless.
Dumb kid didn't even seem to mind. And it was shame, alright. The sacrifices you had to make in times like these.
But if you had to make them…well then, you just had to. Because there was no way that ship was ever coming back from that. They'd get a subspace comm off, sure. Before the Rommies out there blew them to bits. And they'd buy them that confirmation they needed, so Starfleet could justify relocating defense forces here…
Still. It was a real shame, though.
Tempest
Hammerhead Class Frigate (NC-114)
T'Pol turned and found a child standing there. A Xyrillian child, gazing up at Captain Tucker as she held his hand. Smiling brightly up at him. Tucker himself was dressed in civilian clothing, oddly. And he gazed back down at the child, smiling in return…
The scene was obviously very intimate. She suddenly regretted her decision. Indeed, she regretted it very much…
"When you call the next time," The child was saying. "Can we play Building Blocks again? That was fun!"
"It might be a while before I can call again, Lynn." Tucker said, his smile faltering. "When the Xyrillian ship leaves…I won't have a holo-comm I can use."
The child's smile faltered then, too. "But…when will I see you again?"
T'Pol lifted the remote quickly, stabbing the first button that looked like it might stop this.
This was entirely inappropriate.
The scene shifted, almost disorienting in its haste.
Sounds of an ocean filled the air around her. A walkway, alongside a tall building overlooking that ocean. A dim red sky, where the star was setting there, and flying reptiles of some sort darting in and away, again and again, nearby.
"This is T'Ren'ha." The child said excitedly, as she pointed out over the ocean. "It's very big and there are birds. Mother says we can feed them yov'he nuts. But you have to do it on the bottom down there, because they poop."
Tucker laughed nearby, while the child giggled. He continued to hold her hand in this scene as well. Gazing out over the ocean with her.
To her surprise, T'Pol found another Xyrillian was standing on the periphery, watching. Saying nothing, only observing. Making no move to interact herself.
"Pick me up!" The child said suddenly, her arms extended up to Tucker. And he did so immediately, hoisting the child up high on his chest. Where she could see out over the ocean, above the walkway railing.
The technology involved here was quite impressive. T'Pol could immediately understand how it must have amazed and captivated the Human. He'd only recently been discharged as a Starfleet engineer at that point, after all.
Neither of the two actually existed here. Both being merely recordings of a prior interaction, replicated by force-field supported resequenced photons. Neither, in fact, even existed in the same holo-chamber at the time of the recording. The child, Lynn, had quite obviously interacted with a holographic version of Tucker, from somewhere on Xyrillia. While Tucker had done the same, interacting with a holographic Lynn, from aboard some Xyrillian vessel.
And the interaction had occurred in real time, which suggested Xyrillian communications technology were far more advanced than anything she had even heard of.
It was, overall, entirely fascinating.
The child suddenly turned and threw her arms around Tucker's neck. Burying her head there and holding him tightly. T'Pol could not see the child's face, but she could sense, somehow, that the expression was quite joyful. And he, folding his arms about the child without hesitation, smiling openly, returning her joy.
"I miss you, father." The child said. "I looked everywhere, but I couldn't find you."
And Tucker's face…
She was unsure what she witnessed. The expression was almost overwhelmingly profound. Enough that she took a step back from the scene, barely aware that she'd done so.
There was pain there. More than she'd ever witnessed any emotional species exhibit. It was…palpable…
And there were tears forming in his eyes…
T'Pol fumbled with the remote, trying desperately to find the control…
"Alice," She said, "Please stop this."
The scene froze.
But that wasn't good enough. Not at all.
"End the recording, Alice." She said.
Everything shifted again. And the four simple rainbow walls returned. Tucker and Lynn, gone.
T'Pol stared at the floor for a few moments. Wrestling with the panic she'd felt. And the shame. Until she'd collected herself and could turn to replace the controller on the forward wall without stumbling.
That had been regrettable. And she did, indeed, regret it.
And it had answered none of her questions concerning Captain Tucker at all. He continued to be entirely contradictory.
An isolationist who captained a Starfleet vessel, with at least four alien crewmen that she'd seen so far. A Terra Prime member who clearly had bonded strongly to the Xyrillian child he'd born, rather than rejecting her outright. In fact, a man that had been willing to die that the child might live, rather than doing as likely any other Human would have done. Simply have the child removed and be rid of her.
The man made no sense to her at all.
And…she continued to feel shame. Despite her attempts to suppress it. What she'd done, however unintentionally, had been extremely inappropriate. Unacceptable. It demanded some form of honor being done here to compensate.
She could not admit to him what she had done, of course. Considering her utter failure to understand the man, she could not predict how he would react.
She looked out across the holo-chamber, though. Not at the rainbow walls close at hand. But beyond them, to the man who'd occupied the room with her only a moment before, however artificially.
"S'ti th'laktra." She said, quietly.
And it was true. So therefore both appropriate and honorable.