Disclaimer: I don't own T'Pol, Archer, Trip, or any other characters you know. However, the plot is mine.
AN: This story is in response to Quills' t/t challenge. The rules are: must be t/t, can be any length or rating. Challenge ends Halloween, voting runs from 1-8 of November.
Well, I'm home sick, missing a vocab test, a guitar lesson and my best friends have a field hockey game! This sucks! But anyway, it's good for you coz I'm finally starting my response to the challenge! Vote for me! (LOL)
Rating: PG
Chapter: Book I of IV
My Mind to Yours
Book I: How It Began
"Any point in asking where you were, Subcommander?" Captain Jonathon Archer chuckled to T'Pol. "It's not like you to miss the salad, being that that's usually all you eat," he said dryly, and beside him Charles Tucker III laughed.
"I was… detained," T'Pol informed them, settling down in her usual spot across the table from Archer.
"We saved you a steak," Tucker laughed. T'Pol grimaced.
"Trip…" Archer warned, but he couldn't figure out why T'Pol was so put off by their main course. After a year and a half on a human vessel, T'Pol had become almost used to the food. Tucker sensed it too.
"You okay, T'Pol?" He asked, leaning forward.
The Vulcan seemed to shake herself slightly. "I'm fine."
"You don't look fine," Archer said, his smile from the jesting fading rapidly. "Maybe you should go to sickbay."
"I'm fine," T'Pol said plainly. Her jaw was set firmly and neither of the two men pressed the subject.
"So, I'm in engineering, right?" Tucker began after a few uncomfortable moments. "And Ensign Parker comes up. Says something's wrong with the warp core, but she can't find anything. So I go to check it out, and I can't find anything. We're sitting there for almost an hour, crawling around looking for a faulty anything and you know what it turns out to be?"
"What?" Jon asked, mildly intrigued.
"Complete false alarm," Trip finished, puzzlement on his face. "Couldn't find a single thing wrong with the damn thing. Parker's scanner was broken."
"That's odd," Archer pondered.
"You're tellin' me. And that's not the weirdest part…" he was interrupted by a sort of gagging sound from across the table. They both looked up.
"T'Pol!" Trip shouted. The Vulcan was bent over almost double, her green color more pronounced than usual.
Archer dove off of his chair and hit the wall comm. "Archer to Phlox. Medical emergency, Captain's galley."
"I'll be right there," Phlox responded just as Archer heard Trip curse behind him.
"She's not breathin'," Trip explained, a hint of panic in his voice. "And I can't feel a pulse."
"Doctor Phlox is on his way," Archer said. "Let's try to get her on the floor." They helped her lie down and waited for the doctor for only a minute.
"Where the hell is he?" Tucker said from his place above T'Pol, his fists going on her chest in a rhythmic pattern, just as Phlox and two nurses rushed in and whisked her away.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Sickbay~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I've managed to stabilize her," Phlox said as he looked over T'Pol's vital signs. "As to the cause of her… attack, I have no answer."
"Will she be okay?" Trip asked hurriedly. He had paled slightly and seemed quite shaken up.
"I can't say," Phlox said lightly. His tone seemed quite optimistic, but, then again, it always did.
"Do you have any ideas at all about the cause?" Archer asked, his face contrasting Trip's by being totally stoic.
"I can tell you very little. It's not contagious, for one. But beyond that, I think I'll have to wait until she's awake for answers."
"What makes you think she knows anything?" Jon said suspiciously. "Doctor?"
Phlox shifted uncomfortably, but it was only noticeable because of how well they knew him. "I'm most likely violating my doctor/patient confidentiality by telling you this… but her life may be in the balance." He sounded as thought he had made up his mind. "A few days ago, Subcommander T'Pol came in complaining of fairly mild symptoms. She said she couldn't meditate, she said she had no appetite and was a little dizzy. I assumed it was nothing; our latest first contact seems to have transmitted a cold-like virus to some crew members. I assumed it was simply a natural Vulcan reaction."
Archer bit back his next comment, asking why he hadn't been informed. After all, it wasn't necessary for him to be informed of every splinter or sniffle, and Phlox had deemed it unimportant.
"Can you wake her up?" Archer asked, shaking himself out of thought.
"Yes," Phlox said, but with his lilting speech, it somehow gave the impression of an epiphany, more than one simple stated word.
He pressed a hypo-spray against the Vulcan's neck and soon she stirred slightly and opened her eyes.
"T'Pol?" Jon asked hesitantly.
"Captain?" She said weakly. "What…?"
"You collapsed," Jon said simply. "About ten minutes after you arrived at dinner."
"How long have I been unconscious?" T'Pol said, sitting up. Phlox forced her back down.
"Almost an hour," Phlox said gently, but he relented and lifted the back on the cot so that she could sit up.
T'Pol wasn't put off in the least. "An hour. Indeed. May I return to my station now, Captain?" she said almost coldly.
"Subcommander," the doctor broke in. "May I have a word with you…alone?"
T'Pol seemed to sigh. "Very well."
The doctor looked meaningfully at the two men. Trip put up his hands. "Hey, I know when I'm not wanted." They turned to leave, then Jon turned back..
"Get well soon, T'Pol," he said, a hint of sarcasm as he turned to Trip and added quietly, "The bridge just wouldn't be the same without you two bickering."
Trip scowled and chuckled, and the two left.
Doctor Phlox turned to T'Pol. "Exactly when are you planning on telling him?" He asked.
T'Pol cocked an eyebrow. "The symptoms have not yet started to effect my duties. I see no reason to alert Captain Archer until they do," she said coolly.
"Fainting in the middle of dinner isn't exactly what I'd call, mmm, 'not effecting your duties'."
"I wasn't on duty," she pointed out.
Phlox didn't miss a beat. "That doesn't change the fact that it happened, Subcommander. And soon, the Umacolm Syndrome will effect things beyond just, mmm, dinner."
T'Pol actually relented. "Very well. If it is your… professional opinion, I will inform the Captain tomorrow."
Phlox didn't accept this. "I doubt he's gone to bed just yet. Would you like me to call him here?"
"That will not be necessary," T'Pol said, looking slightly muffed. "I will go to his quarters directly."
The doors slid open gracefully and she exited. Phlox's cheerful-for-the-patient face fell. "Not that he could do anything," he said softly, and went about feeding his various creatures.
~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Archer's Quarters~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"C'min," Captain Archer said, looking up from his water-polo game, and Trip's protests to switch to the Giants vs. the Rams.
T'Pol strode in directly. "Captain. Commander."
Archer tried to hide his grin. "We've been introduced, T'Pol, now come in and tell us what's on your mind."
T'Pol looked uneasily at Trip.
"Whatever I'm going to hear, the Commander can too." Archer said casually, assuming it was some atoms misaligned by a micron or somesuch.
T'Pol looked uneasily at the chair she was being offered, and lowered herself down hesitantly. "I fear I am becoming unable to perform my duties to the best of my abilities." She began.
Archer offered his lop-sided, doubtful smile. "I don't see what you mean. If this is anything about what happened tonight… I'll understand if you're sick…"
"I am… ill," T'Pol said uneasily.
Archer stiffened. "What is it?"
T'Pol shifted very slightly. "It is a Vulcan disease known as Umacolm Syndrome. I causes the logic centers of the brain to disintegrate. It is contagious only to Vulcans. It ends in death," she said simply.
"What?!?" Trip shouted. "You're dyin'?"
"Yes, I am." She said plainly. "I assure you, I am fit to perform my duties…"
"To hell with that," Archer broke in. "You're just going to sit here and sign your death sentence?"
"I'm not signing anything," T'Pol said coolly. "I simply mean to say that the only known cure is out of the question."
"And that would be…?" Archer questioned.
"A mind meld."
"But you said…"
"Not with a Vulcan." She said simply. "With a human."
"A Human?" Archer demanded. "How could that help?"
"It doesn't change anything," T'Pol insisted coolly. "It's out of the question."
"T'Pol, as your commanding officer, I order you to tell me how this mind-meld thing works!" Archer said firmly.
T'Pol sighed, her face relenting to a weariness that the two men had never seen on her before. It put both at unease.
"A mind meld is a traditional connecting of two minds. They used to be quite popular, but they are rarely used anymore." She stopped.
"Go on," Archer prodded.
"A mind meld between a human and a Vulcan will cause a slight transference of cultures and disciplines," T'Pol said, succeeding in making it more difficult than it already was.
"So you're sayin the Vulcan would become… illogical or something?" Tucker put in. He was trying to hide his disbelief that T'Pol was dying, but his colorless cheeks betrayed him.
"In a way, yes," T'Pol said, looking worse by the minute. "A mind meld with a human transfers enough illogical impulses that the part of the Vulcan brain that is currently inactive will activate. It will take over for the damaged part of the brain, preserving life but permanently transferring illogical traits to the Vulcan."
"Sounds better than dying," Archer pointed out.
"Not necessarily to a Vulcan," T'Pol said quietly.
"Now you sound like a Klingon!" Trip half-shouted. "T'Pol, we're talking death here! Wouldn't'jou rather laugh once and a while than die?" He demanded, his voice cracking slightly.
"The meld would also transfer slightly Vulcan traits to the Human, but these would fade with time."
"Then there's… really no question is there?" Archer said.
"With all due respect, Captain," T'Pol said. "It is my mind. It therefore is my choice whether or not I wish to have the mind-meld. Logic is precious to us, Captain."
"As much as it is," Archer said logically. "I think you really have to ask yourself if you'd die for it."
T'Pol raised her eyebrow. "It is natural instinct to preserve life through any means necessary. However, Captain, Vulcans have most of those instincts under control."
"This is stupid!" Tucker shouted. "T'Pol, you'd rather die than…"
"Trip," Archer warned. "This is T'Pol's choice. We have to understand if she's… afraid of a few human emotions," Archer said slyly.
It had the intended effect. T'Pol ruffled and sat up a little straighter, taking the comment as an insult, exactly what Archer wanted. Now it wasn't a hindrance, it was a challenge to her. "My side is not the only one to be won, Captain." T'Pol stated. "The human would also have to deal with months of Vulcan impulses."
"But they'd fade," Archer reminded her.
"Yes. But… this has never been attempted before. There could be unforeseen side-effects."
"I'll do it," Archer volunteered. "If it meant saving your life."
"Illogical, Captain. You might be on bed-rest for days, what would happen if we were to encounter… difficulties?"
"I'll do it," a voice said from behind them. Archer and T'Pol both turned for face Trip, who, for the past few minutes, had fallen uncharacteristically silent. Now he looked determined. "I mean… it can't kill me, right? I can handle a few months with a stick up my ass if it'd save a life."
One look at Trip's eyes pushed any thoughts of argument out of Archer's mind. Triumphantly, he turned to T'Pol. "There. Trip doesn't seem to have any doubts. When can the meld be performed?"
There was almost panic in T'Pol's eyes. Almost. But more than that, she looked weary and overcome. "Whenever the Commander is ready."
"I'm ready now," Trip insisted, and Archer almost smiled. When Trip made up his mind, he was truly set.
"It would be… advisable to get a night's sleep first," T'Pol said uncomfortably. "I will meet you in sickbay at 08:00 tomorrow," she said before leaving.
When she had, Archer turned to Trip. "You don't have to do this, you know. I could order her to meld with me instead."
Trip smiled, but he didn't really look at ease. "Like she said, Cap'n, I might be laid up for a while. That can't happen to you, or the doc. No one else knows about it, and she probably doesn't want 'em to. It's… logical," he chuckled.
"Alright, if you're sure," Archer relented. "But it won't be the same without you being sarcastic everytime someone breathes," he smiled. It was times like this he really felt proud of his best friend.
Trip returned to uncertain grin. "See you at 08:00 then. I'd better go tell Ensign Parker that it's her turn to keep the ship in one piece for a few days." He left.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*sickbay~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Trip's eyes gently closed as T'Pol placed her hand on his face. "My mind to yours. My thoughts to yours," she said softly.
Archer and Phlox watched in wonderment as her eyes closed as well, and their breathing patterns slowed down and matched the other's. They both seemed in a trance-like state.
Phlox pointed to the readings. His voice was a whisper, even though it didn't have to be. "Look at the patterns. Their brain waves are practically aligning!"
"Isn't that impossible?" Archer whispered back.
"Apparently not."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*bridge~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Lieutenant?" Travis Mayweather asked tentatively.
Malcolm Reed was immediately at attention. "What is it?"
"Sensors are detecting something off our port bow."
"On screen," Reed ordered, leaving the command chair in favor of his armory station.
The viewscreen flickered on, reveling nothing but tiny pricks of white on black.
"There's some sort of cloaking field," Mayweather said.
"No life signs," Reed said, checking his instruments. "Weapons are on-line."
"Any idea what it is?" Travis asked.
"Polarizing the hull plating," Reed announced.
"It's firing!" Mayweather shouted.
"Brace for impact!" Reed yelled.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*sickbay~*~*~*~*~*~
"What the hell was that?" Archer demanded into the comm.
"No idea, sir," Lieutenant Reed's voice reported. "Something cloaked off our port bow just fired at us."
"Any life signs?"
"None detected, sir."
"Any casualties?"
"None, sir. The blast was mild."
Archer switched the intercom from the bridge to engineering. "Report, Ensign."
"We've lost warp drive," Parker reported. "I'll have it up within the hour. No others damages reported, sir."
"Thank you, Ensign." Archer switched off the comm and turned to Phlox. "Sorry about the bumpy ride."
But Phlox wasn't paying attention. His eyes were fixed on Trip and T'Pol. Still in the trance, all four eyes were now partially opened. Their lips were moving in perfect synch, whispering something in another language. Suddenly both their eyes flew open and T'Pol's hand fell to her side.
"Her readings are normalizing," Phlox announced, looking up from his charts. "It worked."
Archer let out his breath and smiled. "Good. What about those brain waves?"
Phlox's puzzled look of amazement returned. "Still almost in synch, Captain. I have no explanation for it."
The door opened from inside. "Captain, doctor," T'Pol greeted. Both she and Trip were paled and shaking, but they looked fine besides that.
"Okay, that was the weirdest thing I've ever done," Trip said fervently. T'Pol actually nodded in agreement.
"Well, I'm happy to announce that you're cured," Phlox said, as casually as though a leg had just been splinted. "How do the two of you feel?"
"Odd," they said in unison.
"Well I'm not surprised. Tell me… do the two of you feel… different?"
"Well, yeah," Trip said. "But we both knew that would happen, remember? Three months with a stick up my ass?"
"Not so much that," Phlox sing-songed. "Your brains waves have harmonized with each other."
"That's impossible," Trip and T'Pol said together.
"Commander… try and use your mind. Tell me what T'Pol's thinking."
"What are you getting at, doctor?" Archer demanded.
"Previous to the meld, we discussed possible side-effects, I believe." Phlox stated. "I believe that one of them has indeed some to pass."
"Wha…" Archer began, but Phlox interrupted. "I believe that Commander Tucker and Subcommander T'Pol have become telepathically linked."
"What!?!" Tucker shouted. "You're kiddin, doc!"
"He's not," T'Pol said painfully. "And if you could, Commander, please try and control your thoughts. I can feel everything you do and it's quite disarming."
"If you don't mind, Captain, I'd like to run some tests. The opportunity is incredible..."
"I understand your point of view, doctor," Captain Archer said. "But for now I think Trip and T'Pol need a little rest. I'm ordering them to bed."
"Doctor, how did this happen?" T'Pol asked. All three of them were ignoring the Captain.
"I believe that when you melded and Commander Tucker's mind activated the illogical part of your mind, a trace of his mind was left. I believe that your mind hooked on to that, in a manner of speaking. You are both "on the same wavelength", if you don't mind the phrase."
T'Pol accepted this immediately but Trip was more disbelieving. "So now instead of just acting like a Vulcan for a few months I'm gonna be stuck with one in my head for… how long?"
"I can't say," Phlox admitted. Whereas Trip was upset and T'Pol accepting, he was simply over-joyed. "Subcommander, would you do one thing for me?"
"If I can," she replied.
"What is Commander Tucker thinking right now?"
T'Pol frowned very slightly. "He is thinking 'why me?'"
Trip looked faint.
Archer broke in. "I think we should sort this out later. I'm ordering you both to your quarters until noon. Then, I want all three of you to meet me for lunch. That's an order," he reiterated.
Tucker sighed. "Yessir."
"Trip?" Archer asked.
"Cap'n?" He replied softly.
"You'll be fine. You've been telepathically linked before* and trained for situations like this."
"Not really, sir," Trip said, uncharacteristically quiet. "But I'll do my best."
Just as he turned to leave, another blast rocked the ship. "Archer to the bridge," Archer shouted at the comm. "Am I the only one experiencing déjà vu, here, Malcolm?"
"Another ship, sir, this one manned. I think you should get up here."
"On my way."
~*~*~*~*~*bridge~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Another vessel just fired on us, sir," Reed reported immediately. "Thirty life signs."
"Hail them," Archer told Hoshi.
"I can only give you audio," she said apologetically.
"That'll be fine, Ensign."
"My name is Captain Archer of the USS Enterprise. You fired on my ship, and we, uh, wouldn't mind an explanation."
"Rter yut Doetyr. Wot yut drte Doetyro. Pov ruy."
The message repeated and Archer turned to Hoshi.
"Just one more time," she said.
"Pov ruy. Rter the Doetyr. You are in our space. Leave now. We are the Doetyr. You are in our space. Leave now."
"I'm sorry that we are in violation of your territory," Archer said placatingly. "But I assure you, we had no hostile intentions. We are explorers from the planter Earth. We are out here to make contact with other species. Now please, stand down your weapons."
"Their weapons have gone off-line." Reed reported.
"Thank you. Now let's just talk about things real nice," Archer said, trying not to sigh in relief.
~*~*~*~*~*~*two hours later*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I'm glad that our two peoples first contact has gone so well," Minister Tyer smiled, his cheek-ridges fluttering. "Remember that the people of Earth will always be friends to the Doetyr. Goodbye, Captain Archer." The viewscreen flickered off.
Archer sighed. "Another successful first contact, sir." Mayweather said from behind Archer.
"I'd say so, Ensign. Now, I have some other matters I need to see to."
~*~*~*~*captain's mess*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It was clear immediately when he entered how uncomfortable Trip and T'Pol were with the new arrangement, and how fascinated Phlox was.
"Hope you didn't start without me," Archer grinned as he walked in and took his seat.
Immediately, a crewman walked in, plates in hand. Tucker wrinkled his nose at the steak in front of him and served himself a salad instead. T'Pol, however, favored the steak above anything.
"That's a switch," Phlox commented.
Wordlessly, T'Pol passed the salad dressing to Tucker.
"How are you to holding up?" Archer asked finally.
"Admittedly, it's a difficult situation," T'Pol said.
"It's confusin'." Trip admitted. "Half the time I can't tell if I'm, thinking my thoughts or T'Pol's."
"You should sort things out within a few weeks," Phlox reassured.
"Indeed," Trip said.
"Let's hope so," T'Pol added.
Archer sighed. "This is gonna be hard to get used to."
*In Vox Sola, season one, Tucker was linked telepathically with Captain Archer and three other crewmen.
Next chap up by Next Friday