Phlox was grinning wildly at the larong – a black, furry insect found on the Vega colony which had venom, a mild toxin, that would cure migraines. The little creature gathered a nest in its cage – a sign that it had successfully mated.
The good doctor enjoyed this. Although some accused him of having a strange predilection with others' mating rituals, the real joy – one he learned while cradling Sim in his arms as well as all his children – was seeing life. The cry of a newborn and the satisfied glow of two parents. A child suckling on its mother, or father (depending on the species) -- that was his passion. Birth. Life. It's why he became a doctor instead of a tattoo artist as his mother had suggested.
The musings came to a halt as he dangled his fingers in the top of the cage, holding out a leaf of lettuce for the creature, watching it leap to wrestle it from his fingers. A strange purr came from the larong and Phlox gave an overextended smile.
"You'll need all the vegetables you can eat to lay your eggs."
Suddenly a call rang out for him and he crossed his medical facility to answer the intercom.
"Yes, this is Dr. Phlox."
"You have someone who'd like to speak with you," Hoshi said. "Want me to send it to your terminal?"
"Of course."
Cheerily, he waddled to the device and flipped a switch until a face, a familiar one, filled the screen. Soval.
"Ambassador! Well, this is certainly an unexpected surprise," Phlox said. Before he could chortle out anything else, the Vulcan interrupted.
"It is agreeable to see you again, Doctor." Phlox was about to respond enthusiastically, when Soval continued. "I am contacting you on official business."
"Oh?"
"Yes. I have authorized an investigation into allegations about Captain Archer and Commander T'Pol."
Really? "I've already spoken with Starfleet, and I believe that information is available to you for--"
"I sensitive questions, and I would like you to divulge the information."
"It depends on what the information is."
"Has T'Pol entered Pon Farr recently?"
The question was enough to wipe the overextended smile off the Denobulan's face. Squirming, he remembered all too vividly when she had nearly two years ago mated unwillingly with him. To a Denobulan male's sensibilities, it was embarrassing.
Soval said, "Has T'Pol entered the mating cycle in the past year and six months?"
Enough time for the gestation of the child I've heard rumors about – the one that apparently T'Pol and Captain Archer have.
Phlox said, "No."
"When was the last medical check up you performed on T'Pol?" Soval asked.
The last one was nearly six months ago where he provided her final treatments to combat her trellium addiction. Conflicted, he decided it best to completely avoid that line of questioning, pleading his conscience.
Phlox said, "That is confidential information."
Phlox noticed the Vulcan's mouth turned down by mere centimeters.
Soval asked, "Then may I ask you whether you observed T'Pol to be pregnant during that time?"
"As I told Starfleet: the answer is no."
"Have you ever witnessed a Vulcan pregnancy?"
"No."
"Then how do you know when a Vulcan is pregnant?"
Phlox leaned in, his voice losing its mirth. "I am a medical doctor. I know when a woman is with child."
"Logical," Soval said. "Then I will ask your opinion – why is there a child with T'Pol's DNA?"
"I haven't the faintest idea. I suppose it's possible that someone could've stolen it from her."
"Do you think that likely?" Soval asked. "I read reports from your time in the Expanse; it took you two years to perfect the ability for a Vulcan and human to viably reproduce."
"It did, but … perhaps someone else was able to do it sooner using stolen hairs from her brush, material from her toothbrush …."
"That is considered illegal."
Phlox crossed his arms losing a little patience with the Vulcan. "Humans sometimes commit felonies."
Soval remained quiet for a moment, and then leaned back in his chair pensively.
The Vulcan said, "Starfleet has remained curiously silent about the child's whereabouts."
"Do they know? The rumors I'd heard indicated that pictures had been sent, but nothing else."
"The child's whereabouts are unknown."
"You don't think the captain and Commander T'Pol entered a relationship," Phlox said. It was rather a relief; having the Vulcan agree suddenly made that option that the two were innocent more plausible.
"I have my doubts," Soval said. "Tell me, have you witnessed behavior between the two that may imply they are romantically involved? Or, have they confessed their attraction to each other?"
Phlox paused and then frowned immensely. Behavior between the two was wrought with what he'd deem, with his psychology background, sexual tension. He knew Archer at one time had harbored feelings of attraction for T'Pol, but that was many years ago. Besides, T'Pol had shown obvious interest in Commander Tucker; it was the reason the Vulcan had illogically decided to inject herself with trellium three times a day.
"Sexual tension and attraction naturally develops when people of the opposite sex work so closely together. However, I doubt the captain would allow anything to develop."
"Why?"
Phlox said, "Because we had that discussion."
An eyebrow suddenly shot up and the Vulcan leaned in. "You and Captain Archer discussed his feelings for T'Pol?"
The doctor's face gave way to a decided frown. That slip came too easily. "That is confidential information."
Soval created a temple with his fingers and slid them under his chin. "If the captain had feelings perhaps he acted on --"
"No," Phlox said. "I'd stake my reputation on it."
Soval nodded. "You have proved helpful."
"What happens next?"
The Vulcan remained quiet for a second, as if thinking about his response. "We try to find the location of this child and wait for more information to surface."
"Let me know if I can help."
"Of course."
The image faded, a little too abruptly for Phlox's liking, but he'd already accepted the Vulcan's mysterious nature and lack of social skills a long time ago. Wondering exactly what Soval planned to do, he decided to take the information to Commander Tucker.
---
Right after dropping off the two paramedics, the pilot and the guard, Archer used the engineering skills his father taught him to dismantle the tracking device while T'Pol flew the shuttle. It was absolutely imperative to disconnect it so that Starfleet wouldn't be able to discern their whereabouts. When that was completed, Archer took over as T'Pol called up information on the ship-computer to try and determine where their daughter was located.
The buzzing, warmth – like a full meal - filled his stomach and every nerve tingled until goose bumps sprouted on his arm. A shiver ran down his back and he wiggled as if ticklish to it.
Fixating on the cause of that sensation, his eyes fell on T'Pol.
"You found her?" he asked.
"No," she said. "I could tell your shoulder and neck still pained you so I hoped to provide some relief. It's a relaxation technique."
Letting his face give way to somewhere between a frown and a smile, he nodded.
She said, "I apologize for taking the initiative to--"
"It's all right." He could feel her eyes still on him; she questioned his remark.
He thought, I guess you can't lie to someone who can tell what's inside your head. Although I'm sure she already knows what's bugging me.
He said, "It's just … uncomfortable."
The bond. It left him feeling vulnerable. Naked. Worse, there was intimacy in the bond, like staring into someone's eyes after you'd made love and talking in whispers before falling asleep.
And yet, there was friendship, the deepest kind – one that ran between best friends who hadn't seen each other in years. Loyalty. Trust. Dedication. Admiration. Joy.
It was confusing.
Gazing into T'Pol's eyes, he'd reminded himself that he'd already agreed to accept it was perplexing and move on.
Archer said, "Let's just find her."
With a nod, she flicked her fingers against the keyboard.
"It was also just as puzzling for Trip and me," she said.
He did a double take. "How did you…?"
"I don't know if we ever resolved that confusion." With that, the Vulcan focused back on the computer.
"You know, that's another thing that feels … uncomfortable. Coming between you and Trip."
"It was not of your choosing," T'Pol said.
"No." It wasn't of yours either. He sighed. "Listen, after we find her, I think you two should continue your relationship. I don't want to be in the way of your happiness and think--"
As if distracted, the Vulcan suddenly tapped her fingers quickly against the surface of the keyboard and leaned in.
"You got something?" he asked.
"Perhaps," she said.
Unstrapping herself from the seat in the cockpit, she climbed into the back. Although Archer couldn't see behind him, he heard panels open.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
T'Pol's voice sounded nearly gleeful and as she said the words Archer felt his heart grow lighter.
"The medical vehicle we have stolen has scanners that I can alter to detect a mixture of human and Vulcan DNA."
"How much time will that take?"
"Approximately an hour. Can you evade the authorities for that long?"
Archer punched a few buttons and noted that no one was following, at least not yet. When he and T'Pol had hatched this plan, they both knew procedures well enough to plan that Starfleet would know about the stolen vehicle within thirty minutes. Thirty. He'd have to buy them a little time.
There was one place where the magnetics would interfere with them locating the shuttle while T'Pol fixed the medical equipment and they determined their next steps, but it seemed like a long shot.
"The poles?" T'Pol asked.
"We could set down in the Artic while you work on the shuttle."
"Do you think Starfleet would look there?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think so. But, if we get a head's start--"
"Yes."
A tingle ran down his spine again, as if she approved of the idea and he immediately began setting the coordinates to head there. When the course was almost laid out, he heard behind him.
"You never mentioned what you would want after we find our daughter," T'Pol said.
His fingers finished their task and he slouched in his seat.
"I've been thinking that Vulcan may not be the best place to raise her," T'Pol said.
"I'm not sure Earth is either. After what Dr. Phlox said happened to him when he was last there and the fact she's been kidnapped--"
"Isolated incidents," she said.
The comment made Archer turn on the autopilot and swivel in his seatThere were words left unsaid, hushed in her mind as if she was talking into a pillow. Closing his eyes, he tried to listen – the susurrus transforming into letters and feelings -- until he knew what echoed in her mind. It came out as clear as someone whispering in a deserted hallway.
Jonathan would feel more comfortable visiting our daughter if I lived on Earth.
As he opened his eyes, Archer saw T'Pol was startled, and she halted her actions to face him.
He should not have heard that, she thought.
But, I did, he thought back.
It wasn't that the Vulcan wondered whether he would be part of the child's life; T'Pol was already aware that no matter what, he'd be there. Her wish was truly about his comfort; she believed that Vulcan would make it hard for him to participate as a parent – difficult for him to breathe, arduous when it came to any exertion, alien and lonely. She wanted him to be in surroundings that made him feel at home.
T'Pol, he thought. I want you to be at home as well.
"I have grown accustomed to humans."
"You'd be raising our daughter in an emotional environment." She deserves logic too, and so do you.
T'Pol halted her actions. "She is our child. She will always have a mixture of logic and emotion. And … so will I."
A lump formed in his throat, one that he decided had no business being there. Rather than give her a hug or even touch her shoulder, he decided to face the panel of his navigational system again and report on when they'd arrive at the North Pole.
"We should be there in five minutes."
---
Trip Tucker wasn't the kind of guy to sit around on his hands waiting for stuff to happen, no matter what The Drip said. And though Enterprise wasn't in orbit, making scanning Earth easier, he decided he'd try to help get to the bottom of things.
Captain Archer and T'Pol need help.
That's why he'd given the order for Reed to try and find Vulcan/human bio-signs. Although Reed had said that needles in haystacks were easier to find, it didn't mean the Brit wasn't going to look. And look hard.
Meanwhile, Trip decided to pull a few strings to see if he could to the bottom of what Starfleet was talking about … even it meant contacting an old girlfriend. There were two kinds of people folks talked to: shrinks and bartenders.
He just happened to know one of those two types.
The blonde fixed his hair for a second, chastising himself for doing so, and then called up the one person he could always count on for the skinny. A woman about 30 years of age with reddish hair popped up on the screen.
It was Ruby, the bartender and waitress at the 602. She hadn't changed a bit.
"Hey, Ruby," Trip said. "Gosh, how long has it been five years--?"
"Six, actually," she said. "You avoided me for a while after you dumped me for … what was her name?"
"Natalie."
"Yeah."
So far, it's not going too well.
"Well, I'm not seeing her anymore." It was poor consolation and as soon as the words fell from his mouth, he regretted them.
"So, you're in town and decided to look me up?" she asked.
Her arms had folded across her chest and then Trip remembered the one thing about the woman: fiery. It's mostly why he liked her.
Trip said, "No. I mean, I wanted to talk with you, but well, I wanted to hear--"
"You want to hear the scuttlebutt on your friend Archer."
"Yeah." He looked apologetic and then told her his intention. "I'm looking for any info that may help him."
"And what makes you think I'm gonna give it to you?"
"Remember that time I met your mother and --"
That was all he needed to say and right away the woman changed her tune. There'd been a time when her mother was bothering her about marriage, something that Ruby was particularly allergic to. Instead of letting the woman droll on about it, Trip decided to give the woman, in a polite Southern way, both barrels. He said stuff like, "he wasn't going to put up with it," "Ruby's a big girl" and other words along those lines.
The weird part was despite all that, Ruby's mother still liked him.
"Yeah," she said. This time, her voice was sweet. "You got her off my back. She hasn't asked since."
"That's right," he said. This time a smile covered his face. "Besides, you've known Archer longer than I have."
"That's true." Ruby sighed and looked at the monitor. "I don't know if this is helpful or not, but I heard Starfleet knows there are three primary locations for Terra Prime and is working on infiltrating them.'
"Do you know where they are?"
Ruby shook her head. "I only know about where one is located: Paris."
Trip winked at her. "You sure were helpful."
The woman smiled and then leaned in. "So, are papers right about Captain Archer and T'Pol?" Before Trip could reply, she leaned in more. "I think it's a beautiful love story. And I'm sure the two of them want their baby back. That's why you're asking me about this, isn't it?"
Unwilling to spoil the woman's imagination, Trip shrugged. "Thanks for your help, Ruby."
"Don't wait so long to contact me the next time."
And then he cut off his connection. Ruby was a strange one. He never thought of himself as a ladies' man, not that he had trouble getting dates, but the bartender/waitress always played hard to get.
I must like women that are tough nuts to crack.
With that, he left the Ready Room.
---
Hoshi pushed the side of her face up with her palm. When she joined Starfleet to be a communications officer, she didn't realize part of her job would be to download information, the dry stuff.
At first the assignment sounded salacious.
Commander Tucker knew it was a breech of protocol, but indicated if she "happened to listen to any of the personal logs, and happened to think anything was worth reporting on" to let him know. He said that "she had a higher clearance and Cap'n Archer probably wouldn't mind if she kept the information to herself … except the noteworthy stuff."
Commander Tucker has never been good at "code." And she liked that about him, always appreciating people who were easy to read.
She'd been staring at the wall, after listening to about ten hours of Captain Archer ramble on about nebulae, quasars, moons, planets, new alien species and occasionally engine upgrades that he thought, "Dad would be proud of." From time to time, a bark would interrupt him, a chime at the door or a comm call, but overall it was pretty standard stuff. Rarely did he mention the kind of stuff she would use her personal logs for – bitching about boring assignments, people who got on her nerves, the temperature of the ship (which was always too damned cold) and space travel in general. She would also have the good graces to gossip using her personal logs, covering who was cute, who was fighting and more.
Not the Captain.
The snottiest he'd gotten were the first logs when he'd wonder about T'Pol. That seemed to die down within three months.
After that, everything was hunky dory and mind-numbingly dull for her to listen to. Maybe the most interesting was his self-reflection after dealing with the Kreetassans to get a warp coil injection. But she got the sense by the nervousness in his voice he wasn't telling the recorder everything. In fact that log he left thankfully short … unlike the rest of them.
The one thing Hoshi found amusing was listening to the logs at hyper speeds so that she could get through them all. Nothing sounded more amusing than Captain Archer reaching the high pitches like one of the old cartoon characters: Mickey Mouse.
As hour 11 rolled around, the conversation started to get a little more interesting. During their time in the Expanse, it seemed the captain was human. He'd resorted to talking with his personal logs for companionship, along with his dog, which was recorded as well. In them he would vocalize his fears: how his crew wouldn't make it back, how they wouldn't find the Xindi weapon, how even if they found it they couldn't destroy it.
They were the kinds of questions Hoshi decided the captain – with his brimming self-confidence – didn't worry about. And yet hearing him, the desperation in his voice – even at Mickey Mouse speed, made her frown.
I wish I'd known he was so upset.
Slowing down the speed of the communication, she let him talk at his normal pace, letting the low baritone tones fill the space of his room. His voice sounded slightly inebriated, as if he probably wouldn't be talking to the device – a moment of weakness. But, the sound of his master's voice perked up Porthos' ears and he wagged his tail as if his Archer was behind a door. Hoshi combed her fingers over the dog as the captain spoke.
January 1, 2154. It's funny, no one really had a Christmas party or a New Year's one this year, at least not that I know about. And I wonder if my crew would tell me. I've been tired and cranky ever since we've been given this assignment.
I know my attitude it taking a toll on them. Hell, it's taking a toll on me, but I keep reminding myself my job isn't explorer or friend; my job is that of a captain ... a military man.
I've never been one of those people who ascribed to New Year's resolutions. But, I've been thinking about what I've done over the past year – push friends away, torture a prisoner ….
Hoshi could tell he was fixing a drink – a glass clinked and she could hear pouring. It seemed like he was already well on his way to fulfilling a mission: getting drunk.
Dr. Phlox keeps me informed of how the crew is doing. Trip seems to be sleeping better, and I guess that's a good thing – engines are running just fine after the modifications he made. Hoshi, despite her misgivings, seems to be hanging in there like a trouper. I'm thankful because if she wasn't here, we wouldn't be able to decipher the Xindi language and their codes. Reed … I've been tough on him, and I probably didn't need to be. He's loyal and always wants to do a good job. Travis is hanging in there as well.
But, I wonder about T'Pol.
When we got back from the Selaya, she seems removed and quiet. I wonder if she blames me for its destruction. God, I almost thought I'd lost her back there. I've also heard ship's gossip about her that I don't particularly care for. Seems people don't want two senior officers getting involved.
He sighed.
Well, it's nobody's business really.
She's given up an awful lot to be in the Expanse.
Hoshi furrowed her brow; he sounded like he was drunk. "Oh, no."
All right. I have some New Year's resolutions. I won't yell at Lt. Reed for at least a week. I'll remind Hoshi how far she's come. I'll help Trip on some of the repair work; I miss him and the engines anyway. I'll make an effort to eat more; at least it'll keep Dr. Phlox off my case. I'll ask Travis if he's contacted his family lately.
And as for T'Pol, maybe it's time I really thank her for everything she's done for me. Maybe I'll go thank her now. Hmmm, maybe not – probably too drunk to thank her … at least properly. She's probably wearing those pajamas anyway. The ones with the ….
The doorbell chimed.
Who in the hell would come this time a night?
Shuffling his feet, and Hoshi could hear it – which must've been a cross between stumbling and shuffling, he answered the door.
The only other words Hoshi heard before the recording stopped was the following:
Speak of the devil. T'Pol, come on in.
And then that was the end. Although she believed he was talking about Commander Tucker and Commander T'Pol, the way the information sounded – especially if they suspected there was something going on … well, it sounded suggestive. The fact that T'Pol dropped by late at night and the fact her CO talked about the woman's pajamas didn't help matters any. Hesitantly, she tapped her finger on the intercom to notify Commander Tucker.
"Tucker here."
"You in the Ready Room?"
"Yeah. Uh, oh – you … uhhh … happen to accidentally listen to something that could prove to be a problem?"
"I didn't, but I'm worried how it might sound."
"What do you mean?" Tucker asked.
"Listen." She played the most relevant information.
After a few moments of silence, she heard two words before the communication was cut off.
"Ah, shit."TBC