Trip got into the turbolift and exhaled heavily.
Might as well get it over and done with.
He touched the command. The lights shifted rapidly. E, D, C, B, A.
The door hissed open. In front of him the Bridge was a scene of orderly calm. A course was already laid in; the ship was travelling smoothly towards her next encounter. The vibration of the deck plating under his boots told him the engines were running like cream. Everything was as it should be.
Yeah.
The officers were gathered in the Situation Room for the morning briefing. He joined them there. He knew what was coming. He saw their expressions as he arrived, and his heart sank.
Jon turned around and gave a well-feigned start of surprise. "Commander! I take it you gave Princess Kaitaama an appropriately warm send-off?"
Har, har. Think you're such a goddamn wit, don't you, Jon? "She seemed pretty satisfied with it to me, Cap'n," he parried pointedly.
"I'm glad you were up to it. It must have been very hard. For you to be sufficiently diplomatic, I mean, of course," he added, with transparent dishonesty.
A perceptible chill was radiating from the ship's Science Officer. "Of course, as a diplomat, you remembered where not to stick your fingers this time."
"T'Pol, I guarantee you that the First Monarch of Krios Prime will have nothin' but happy memories of my diplomatic achievements."
Travis hadn't been among those who'd come down to the planet to rescue him and witnessed him and Kaitaama in a state of advanced and dishevelled undress. Nevertheless, Trip knew exactly how fast rumors got around on this ship. The helmsman's eyes were large with delighted curiosity.
Malcolm, of course, had been one of the landing party. His head was bent over the display; he was apparently engrossed in a study of a rather unremarkable star cluster that their present course would take them close to. Nevertheless part of his jaw was visible, and the muscles twitching in it suggested that he was having an extremely hard time not snickering.
Hoshi was apparently smitten with the same unusual fascination with the star cluster. If anyone was tuned into the rumor mill it was Hoshi, and given the situation between her and Malcolm, Trip would have bet a year's pay that at least one or two veiled hints would have passed between them. She hadn't looked up at him once since he arrived. Either she was mad at him or she couldn't trust herself not to give the game away. He knew which of these his money was on; Hoshi might be a mean poker player, but even she occasionally got the giggles.
"So I can put it down in the logs that she was completely satisfied with First Contact," said the captain, straight-faced.
"Oh, she was more'n satisfied, Cap'n. I can absolutely assure you of that." He allowed himself just a hint of a smirk.
"Well, if ever you find yourself out of a job with Starfleet, Commander, at least you know you have a career waiting for you on Krios." Malcolm didn't look up, but his voice was even more loaded with innuendo than the captain's had been. Sonofabitch.
"So I was given to believe, Loo-tenant. And if ever you might find yourself needin' any lessons in diplomacy, just come down to Engineerin' any time and I'll throw you a few hints."
That got the Brit's attention all right. The dark head came up suddenly, the eyes flaring with consternation and wrath.
Trip let his eyes travel meaningfully to Hoshi. "After all, you never know when diplomatic skills might come in handy, do you?"
"I'm a weapons officer, sir. I hardly think diplomacy is part of my required skill set." Credit where it was due, he was putting up a convincing display of righteous indignation. Chances were, those who hadn't been doing their homework would buy this as just a groundless tease. Trip, however, had been doing his homework. Only he and Reed knew that they were at opposite ends of a wire actually carrying live current, and that war had just been declared.
He decided to bring this to a dignified and conclusive end. At least for the present.
"Well then, I'd recommend you leave it to the experts, Malcolm."
Jon and Travis snickered. T'Pol looked austere. Hoshi shot a look at Malcolm that mingled apprehension and concern and curiosity.
The tactical officer returned his gaze for a long second. Then the lids dropped over the grey eyes in a way that eerily resembled the temporary covering of gun-ports.
"I believe I'll confine myself to the field I'm more comfortable in, sir. If you need any advice about handling weapons in the meantime, though, you know where the Armoury is."
Jon coughed. "I guess we'd better get on with this briefing. T'Pol has something interesting to tell us about this binary star."
A lift of one eyebrow said it was news to her. Nevertheless, she made a gallant recovery. Binary stars were, after all, a relative rarity, and there was doubtless some technical detail that could, at a push, be described as 'interesting.' And on all counts, she evidently felt that it was highly desirable to bring this conversation back to an appropriate heading. And dispose of all its deplorable subtexts thereby.
Was it just wishful thinking on his part to detect more in her tone, as she began speaking, than relief that a distasteful subject had been dropped? Vulcans had always been such a mystery to him. Now he was conscious that this particular Vulcan had begun to intrigue him.
Great. Now he had a battle on two fronts. Trying to out-think and out-shoot the ship's tactical officer on one hand, and work out his unexpectedly complex reactions to the ship's science officer on the other. And in between these, he had to keep the ship's engines singing and keep everything out of Jon's line of view.
Damnation. He never did go for the easy life.