"Where's my First Officer," Archer demanded in a savage tone, mounting the steps from his ready room.
"Not sure, Sir," Lt. Reed stated, turning over the big chair with typically understated enthusiasm. Before he could retreat to his station, Archer gave him a deadly look, as if that particular answer personally offended the Captain.
"The Subcommander," Hoshi interrupted in the hope of settling the sudden and unexpected situation, "turned the bridge over to Lt. Reed about half an hour ago, Sir. She didn't give any indication where she was headed or how long she would be."
"Commander Tucker," Archer had to grit his teeth as the words came out like an accusation.
Once again Hoshi glanced at Malcom, now seated at his tactical console. It seemed the rumours about Trip's most recent escapade might have some basis in truth with the Captain's reaction to speaking the engineer's name. Lt. Reed indicated Ensign Sato should field the question as he had little idea how to handle an irate Jonathon Archer.
"Didn't stay on the bridge," Hoshi reported in a concerned tone, hoping to calm the Captain, "after hightailing it from your meeting, Sir. I can try and locate the Commander in engineering."
About to make an acid retort, Archer was interrupted by Phlox. "Sickbay to Archer."
"Go ahead, Doctor," Jon managed to force the words from behind pursed lips. As if this day could get any worse, he silently acknowledged. It was the best first contact situation we've ever experienced, until my Chief Engineer fouled it up with his well-meant but inappropriate interference. What the hell dose Phlox want anyway. No one but the cogenitor was harmed in meeting this new species.
"I have confined Commander Tucker to quarters for the rest of this duty shift and the next. I shall keep you posted, if further medical leave is required," stated the effervescent Doctor as the Captain's stomach fell into his boots. The comment killed Archers anger instantly. Jon realised, too late, should have seen this coming.
"I'm on my way," Archer didn't need to add, to discuss this situation. The Captain had been so furious, at the cogenitor's death, at Trip's actions, at the Vissian's, he hadn't considered Tuckers reaction to the suicide. They'd been friends for ten years and the cogenitor's self-inflicted death wouldn't sit easily with the well-meaning but impetuous Engineer. Charles Tucker held a very strict moral code, based on Baptist Christianity. The fact he hadn't taken up Phlox's second wife on her very obvious and public seduction spoke volumes about his personal ethics. "Archer out. Lt. Reed, you have to bridge until the relief crew show up."
Striding to the turbolift, Archer's surprise left him speechless as T'Pol appeared when the automatic door slid open silently. "Captain," she acknowledged, stepping back to allow Jon entry into the tiny space. Waiting until the doors closed, T'Pol allowed one eyebrow to rise and stated in a monotone, "I wish to speak with you, privately."
"Not now, Subcommander," Archer responded, his tone colder than he anticipated. The use of T'Pol's rank also hinted at his displeasure with events spiralling out of his control. The Captain was more worried about Trip's mental health than he'd admit. "I need to speak with Doctor Phlox."
"In regard to Commander Tucker's…ailment?" the Vulcan asked stoically.
Turning his head sharply, Jon scrutinised the woman standing before him. Whatever was going on, it seemed his First Officer was aware of the situation. Feeling left out of the loop, Archer's expression darkened.
"What the hell," he demanded, resorting to profanity to cover his increasingly agitated mood, "has occurred in the last hour that's left my Chief Engineer incapacitated and unable to work?"
"I believe this discussion requires privacy and the upmost discretion," the Vulcan all but whispered.
Archer had to lean in to hear the softly spoken words. Lowering her eyes caused Jon's heart to miss a beat. Something in his First Officer's body language warned the Captain to expect trouble and his Engineer was, once again, at the centre of it. Whatever it turned out to be, it'd most likely leaving him reeling. Frustrated and still more than slightly irritated, this day just continued to get worse.
"As Dr Phlox is obviously aware of the situation," Archer speculated in an acid tone, "I suggest we continue this conversation in Sickbay, Subcommander. Maybe you could enlighten me as to when Commander Tucker's ailment commenced?"
"That would comprise much of the private conversation. However, I believe the situation commenced the moment you informed Commander Tucker of the cogenitor's death," T'Pol stated at her Vulcan best. Hands behind her back, Archer knew he wouldn't get another word from the woman until they reached their destination.
The moment the doors to sickbay opened, Jonathan Archer's eyes searched for Trip Tucker. Expecting to find him prostrate on one of the biobeds, it took is addled mind a few seconds to recall the Chief Engineer had been confined to quarters. Phlox's visage appeared from his work station, the usual smile missing and worry clouding his eyes. A shiver of apprehension passed through the Captain as T'Pol's glance met the Doctor's meaningfully. Realising this event had triggered a monumental issue, Archer's hands went to his hips, indicating both T'Pol and Phlox needed to come clean, immediately.
"Which of you is going to explain this mess?" the Captain demanded, suddenly noticing the monitor above Phlox's abandoned workstation. It appeared the good doctor linked an audio-visual display into Trip's quarters. The engineer lay in the foetal position on his bunk. Bare shoulders above his blanket, the lack of movement sent shivers of apprehension down Archer's spine.
"I think it best," Phlox started, waiting for a nod from T'Pol, "for the Subcommander to begin the explanation."
"Captain," the Vulcan's demeanour became more austere, warning Archer that the topics about to be discussed were considered intimate to her species. Just how that related to Trip, Jon couldn't wait to hear. "This may take some time."
"I'm listening," Archer bit out, determined to listen without interrupting. Once again, the doctor and First Officer shared a conspiring glance.
"As is custom," T'Pol started haltingly, "I was bound to my future husband, as are all Vulcan children, between the age of seven and twelve."
"You're in an arranged marriage?" Jon demanded, forgetting his earlier promise to listen. Trip's condition, or how this information affected his friend, lost for the moment. "Who the hell allows their kid to become engaged at such a young age. That kind of behaviour ended centuries ago on Earth. And you Vulcan's call us barbarians!"
"Commander Tucker stated a similar opinion when he read my private correspondence, which demanded I return to Vulcan to wed Koss, my betrothed," T'Pol answered in a monotone.
"Ah," Phlox broke in with a slight chortle, "that was the personal problem I suggested you discuss. Evidently, the individual you chose was Commander Tucker."
"Indeed," T'Pol agreed. Both men understood why the intensely private Vulcan would turn to Trip in this instance. Archer had all but forced her hand.
"The encrypted communication I had Trip decode and translate," Archer suddenly recalled the incident when they were observing a comet early in their mission. The engineer's obvious unhappiness at reading the very personal letter forced him to confess his actions to T'Pol, while refusing to disclose the content of said letter to anyone, including his Captain. That must have resulted in the two discussing her marriage. "Wait, you didn't return to Vulcan to marry this…Koss."
"I declined the, invitation," T'Pol conceded, her body language more stiff than usual.
"Why?" Archer demanded. "You'd only been a member of this crew for a matter of weeks. There was a Vulcan vessel that could have transported you home. I'm not sure I understand why you chose to stay."
"It was already too late," T'Pol answered carefully. "I had unintentionally bonded with another, although I did not recognise the fact, until today."
"Bonded?" Archer felt a shiver of apprehension as his mind started to see links he'd ignored over the last two years.
"In requesting a permeant posting to Enterprise," the Vulcan's austerity increased tenfold, "Koss's parents were insulted I placed humanity above tradition."
"Thus, the ultimatum to return home," Archer stated acidly, finally starting to understand. "What the hell has this got to do with Trip? And exactly what," the Captain turned his gaze to the monitor before rounding on Phlox. Glare narrowing, Jon demanded, "is the issue with my Chief Engineer?"
"I believe the Subcommander is coming to that," Phlox smirked genially. "Patience, Captain."
The retort almost, but not quite, more than Jonathon Archer could cope with, he turned his glare to his Frist Officer. "I'm waiting," he made the words sound like an order.
"I have disclosed more to you than a Vulcan parent would tell their child until the day before the wedding ceremony. Vulcans," T'Pol insisted, as she noticed the Captain about to interrupt again, "consider anything to do with biology, procreation and marriage private in the extreme. Nothing is written, only handed down as tradition, steeped in ritual and ceremony. It is not spoken among family, and never in public or to outworlders."
"I get it," Jon rolled his eyes. "What you say is not to leave this room but somehow this has to do with Trip and the reason he looks out for the count."
"Indeed," pausing, the Subcommander actually frowned. "I have not yet told Commander Tucker what I am about to impart to you. I do not know how…Trip will react." When the Captain glared, T'Pol found the words she required. "Although bonded at a young age, a Vulcan male does not expect to marry until early in their sixth decade. It is required for a husband and wife to live together for at least the first year of their marriage, longer if the male has not experienced his first Pon Farr."
"Pon Farr?" Archer requested.
"A biological imperative to mate," Phlox filled in. "A time when logic is replaced by emotion. Vulcan males revert to the violence experienced before the Awakening of Surak. They will protect their mate to the death to ensure no other touches her. Something similar occurs on Denobula, although the mating season is not held in such secrecy."
Annoyed, T'Pol's eyebrow rose. "Indeed," she uttered. When both men turned to look at the First Officer, she continued the explanation. "It is through the intimate contact in the initial year of marriage and the Pon Farr that the husband and wife may become bondmates."
"Bondmates?" questioned the Captain.
"I believe the Subcommander is referring to a telepathic joining," Phlox guessed.
"A crude analogy," T'Pol allowed, "but accurate."
"I guess you're now going to tell me," Jonathon Archer shuddered as this mind came to the only conclusion given the information presented to him so far, "that you and Trip are… bondmates?"
"Indeed," T'Pol stated logically. "My husband, as perceived in Vulcan custom, is not yet aware of the consequences of our bond. He will never be able to take a wife of any species, or become intimate in human terms with another. Neither tradition, our bond nor I will allow another to touch Trip while I live."
"I'd love to be a fly on the wall," Archer muttered under his breath as the seriousness of this situation finally hit him, "when you two have that discussion."