Morning Decisions
The door chime rang the next morning just as Commander Tucker was running a comb through his hair one last time. He answered almost without thinking about it. When the door whisked open, Tucker was surprised to see his best friend and commanding officer standing there.
"Good morning, Jon. What can I do for you?" he asked pleasantly.
"Phlox has asked me to give you and T'Pol a temporary medical leave of absence. I know that T'Pol has her reasons, but I want to hear yours, Trip." said Captain Archer.
"Did he explain to you about the procedure and everything?" questioned Trip, laying the comb aside and taking a deep breath. He could see it in his commanding officer's eyes, Jon didn't understand.
"Yes, and it sounds damn dangerous."
"You know that I haven't been able to sleep since we got back. Pretty soon the day'll come when I can't do my job. Maybe if I have some answers, maybe that day won't have to come because of this." he explained.
Archer sighed and looked away before telling Trip, "I didn't know that it was that bad."
"How would you like it if three days of your life were stolen? Wouldn't it be hell to you too, Jon?"
"I see your point, but is it still worth the risk? I trust Phlox, but even he says that the procedure is experimental and potentially dangerous."
"I have a tough time explaining it, Jon, but I feel the same way about him, especially here recently. I'm willing to put my life in his hands if that's what it takes to give me some peace."
Captain Archer took a good, long look at his friend and slowly nodded. He knew that peace of mind was worth a lot to everyone, but especially to the young engineer. Tucker valued the simple things in life and that outlook was patently incongruent with sleepless nights and endless questions that could not be answered. Trip had to have his answers and his certainty.
"I guess I understand a little better now." said Archer. He shuffled his feet and asked, "Do you want me to be there?"
"No thanks, Jon. I would rather keep all of this as much between the three of us as possible. I suppose you could say that this thing's given us a special bond."
"Like the Three Musketeers?" chuckled the captain, though his eyes were still filled with an almost brotherly concern.
"Yeah." laughed Trip softly.
"Then let me at least walk you down to sickbay." said Archer, gesturing
toward the door.
Two bio-beds had been prepared that morning. A stand containing numerous medical instruments was set up between them. Trip stood there looking at the arrangement for several minutes, considering what he was about to do. The Denobulan doctor, who was standing just behind him, cleared his throat before speaking.
"Are you ready, commander?" he questioned.
"Where's T'Pol?" asked Tucker, turning to face Phlox. "She hasn't chickened out, has she?"
"I have sent her to the mess hall to have something for breakfast. Unlike you, in addition to not sleeping well, she has also neglected her nutritional intake. She should not be long." Phlox informed him.
"What should I be doing in the mean time?" questioned Trip, unconsciously shuffling his feet.
"You seem nervous, commander. Would you prefer to lie down while we wait?" asked the doctor.
"Nah, I'm all right. I just want to get this over with." replied Commander Tucker. His shifted his weight from one foot to the other before inquiring, "Can I ask you something, doc?"
"Please."
"Why are you performing both procedures at once?"
Phlox chuckled and explained, "It isn't brain surgery, commander. Most of this will be done with chemicals and compounds and perhaps some electrical stimulation of the hippocampus." Trip frowned. "That is part of both the human and Vulcan brain associated with memory." he added.
Tucker was going to ask a few additional, albeit last minute, questions when the door of sickbay opened to reveal the ever calm and collected Vulcan sub-commander. She arched one eyebrow ever-so-slightly when she saw Tucker. She had anticipated that he would have second thoughts. She had her own misgivings about the arrangement. The risk was great and the reward uncertain. But she had underestimated the determination of her human crew mates on more than one occasion. This was just one more.
"Commander." she acknowledged with that particular brand of stern, forced Vulcan politeness. The she turned to Phlox, who appeared to be calibrating or re-calibrating a medical tricorder. "When are we scheduled to begin the procedures?" she inquired placidly. Trip marveled at her composure.
"Whenever you are ready." replied the good doctor.
As both Trip and T'Pol reclined on their respective bio-beds, he turned to her and said, "Good luck."
"Why are you wishing me good luck, commander? I will have very little to do with the outcome of these procedures. If you want to wish someone luck, perhaps you should wish it to the doctor, although I doubt that this will affect the outcome either." she informed him.
Trip, uncertain if she were joking, if she could be joking, looked up at the Denobulan physician who was filling two hyposprays.
Phlox simply chuckled and said, "Thank you both."
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