Title: Starfleet's Finest
Authors: Sita/T'eyla
AN: Thanks to KaliedescopeCat, Exploded Pen and Nala for reviewing chapter 1. Here's Part #2, hope you enjoy it, please r&r!
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#2 First Contact
"... not to mention the latest export restrictions established by the High Council. Although the achievements of Earth's commercial policy are all the more remarkable considering the recent changes in the top positions of the Department of Commerce, we must not allow certain factions to realize their plans of spending the budget on new technologies only. The tendency of Earth's government to focus their political efforts on one economic field only, influenced by the certainly less than objective coverage of this subject in the media, will prove fatal one day when Earth decides to enter into extended negotiations with other worlds and species. However, Vulcan's government has launched a campaign to..."
T'Pol shifted in her chair. This had been going on for hours, and she was bored. She hadn't wanted to accompany her father to his meeting with the human ambassador, but since there was no day care or anything similar on the spacestation where the negotiations took place she had to sit through every single meeting her father had to attend. Six hours a day, forty-two hours a week. Her father had given her some math problems to solve while he was in the meeting but she had been done with them after less than one hour, and now she had nothing to do but listen to her father and Ambassador Harris drone on about Earth's economics. She wished she could have stayed at home with her mother, but of course her mother was on a business trip to ShanaiKahr at the moment, and couldn't possibly take her five-year-old daughter along with her. Well, her father couldn't really, either, but *someone* had to, and her mother had won the argument, as usual.
".. and so, since the secondary sector has even expanded in the last ten years, I strongly recommend revising the latest amendments to the International Trade Agreements."
T'Pol saw her father pause for a second to take a breath and pounced.
"Father, I need to use the bathroom."
Solkar turned his head, giving her a distracted glance. "You may go, daughter."
T'Pol saw Ambassador Harris hiding a grin and frowned. "But I do not know where it is."
Mildly irritated, Solkar raised an eyebrow. "Follow the signs, then."
T'Pol crossed her arms in front of her chest. "But I am hungry, too."
Harris snorted and Solkar glared at him. "Daughter, I must ask you to leave now."
T'Pol opened her mouth to say something else, but closed it again when her father gave her a piercing look. She knew it was better to go now. As she left the room she heard the human ambassador chuckle.
"Cute kid, your little missy, Solkar."
T'Pol didn't know what a "missy" was, but she knew she was neither cute nor little. She hadn't met many humans yet, but had gained the impression that they could be quite annoying. What was so funny about someone not knowing where the toilet was, anyway? As she walked down the hallways, she looked out for the signs her father had mentioned. There were none. T'Pol had never been to this section of the station before, and since these corridors looked very much alike, she didn't really know where she was going. After a few turns, however, she found herself in front of a restroom door and sighed in relief.
As she left the bathroom a few minutes later she felt much better. This had been quite urgent, and moreover, she had been able to escape from the meeting. For a moment T'Pol stood in the middle of the corridor, not quite knowing what to do now. There were not many people on the spacestation, and the corridors of this section were deserted. Coming to a decision, T'Pol turned left and walked down the hallway. Maybe she could find some kind of lounge where she could stay until her father came back from the meeting. At the end of the hallway there was a big door to the right. She opened it and found herself in an empty conference room similar to the one where the meeting took place. A second later she heard a loud crash and realized the room wasn't empty, after all. She turned to her right where the noise had come from and saw a human boy, about eight years old, standing there with some kind of club in his hand. Apparently he had used the club to hit a ball, sending it flying through the room and had just now managed to smash one of the potted plants with it. He stared at her with a surprised expression on his face.
"Who're you?" he asked. T'Pol raised an eyebrow.
"I am T'Pol. You have damaged the furniture."
The boy cast a nervous glance at the remains of the plant. "You won't tell on me, will you?"
T'Pol raised another eyebrow. "What were you doing?"
He grinned. "Well, what does it look like? Target practice on potted plants, of course."
T'Pol stared at him and he rolled his eyes. "Well, I got a baseball bat, I got a baseball glove and I got a ball. Looks like I'm playing baseball."
T'Pol frowned. "What is baseball?"
He looked at her with disbelief on his face. "You don't know baseball?"
"No."
He shook his head. "It's a sport. A ball game."
"Does the game involve destroying your surroundings?"
He grimaced. "Look, I didn't do it on purpose."
"Throwing objects in closed rooms will eventually lead to damage," T'Pol said. She didn't really know what to make of this strange encounter, but somehow that boy was getting under her skin. The feeling seemed to be mutual; his voice sounded quite irritated as he answered.
"Look here, Miss I'm-So-Stuffed-With-Brains-I-Have-To-Plug-My-Ears-To-Keep-It-From-Running-Out, I don't need any little girls telling me how to play baseball. And especially no Vulcan little girls!"
T'Pol folded her arms in front of her chest. "I am not little. And there is nothing running out of my ears."
The boy walked over to the plant and picked up a ball from between the debris. "Have you always been like that or did you take lessons?"
T'Pol glanced at him disdainfully as he polished the baseball with his shirt. "Like what?"
"Like a pain in the ass!"
"Maybe you should seek medical help."
The boy's cheeks flushed with anger. "Are you saying I'm crazy? Maybe you need to see a doctor too, lady!"
T'Pol was getting the impression they were talking two completely different languages. "What are you talking about?"
The boy put ball and bat down on the table, placing his hands on his hips. "I don't know what it is with you Vulcans. Ain't I talking English or what?"
T'Pol still didn't know what he was referring to, and tried a safer approach. "Who are you?"
The boy shrugged, apparently quite annoyed. "What's it to you, smart ass?"
"I told you my name, so you might as well tell me yours."
He rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay. I'm Dave Harris."
"Ambassador Harris' son?"
"Right. You got a problem with that?"
She frowned. "Why should I?"
"Because you look like someone stuffed a lemon up your ass. But come to think of it, all Vulcans do. How come you know my dad, anyway?"
T'Pol didn't really know what to make of the odd statement, but she could tell it was meant to be less than friendly. She began to feel offended, wondering what she'd done to deserve such treatment.
"I am the daughter of Solkar."
"Who the hell is that?"
She gave him a contemptuous look. "My father and your father are currently discussing the new Trade Agreements your people have established. Are you not informed about your father's business?"
"No, and I don't want to be, either. My dad always drags me along on these diplomatic missions, and I hate it! I hate to be on these rotten spacestations together with those stinking aliens – "
T'Pol took a deep breath. "If I were you, I would refrain from accusing others of emitting unpleasant odours."
Dave stared at her, his fists clenched. "Are you saying I smell?!"
"Yes."
With a roar, he ran towards her. T'Pol's martial arts training kicked in and a second later Dave was lying flat on his back, staring up at her with a dumbfounded expression on his face. Then he jumped up again, his eyes blazing with fury.
"You little - " He advanced on her, and T'Pol took a step backwards, bumping into the table.
"I am not little," she said defiantly, and he went for her. She tried to throw him off again, but this time he grabbed her arms, and they fell to the ground, taking a few chairs with them.
"I'm gonna kill you!" he gasped, trying to get hold of her hair. T'Pol grabbed his arm, twisting his wrist. "I trust not," she panted, and then howled with pain as he bit her shoulder.
"You will pay for this, human!" she hissed, driving her knee into his stomach. He turned rather green in the face, but that didn't keep him from finally grabbing her hair and pulling out a good handful. The pain washed away the last few remaining bits of control, and a moment later they rolled over the floor, punching, kicking, screaming insults at each other.
"T'POL!"
"DAVID!!"
T'Pol who had just raised her fist to deliver another blow into David's midrift froze in midaction, staring at Dave whose stunned expression mirrored her own. She felt a hand grab her shoulder and pull her off the human boy she'd had pinned to the floor.
"What are you doing, daughter?" Her father's voice sounded shocked, and his expression betrayed barely controlled fury. T'Pol swallowed.
"He started it," she said, pointing at Dave. In the meantime Ambassador Harris had helped his son to his feet and was now talking to him with a very serious expression on his face.
"...what on earth were you thinking, picking a fight with a little girl, for God's sake!"
T'Pol turned her head. "I am not little," she said, and her father's grip on her arm tightened.
"T'Pol! You will apologize for this behaviour."
"She kicked me in the stomach!" Dave wailed. "Twice!!"
"I'm sure you did your share of kicking, too," Harris said, and to T'Pol's astonishment he bit his lip to hide a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Trying to keep a stern expression he looked down at his son. "Go on, say sorry to T'Pol."
"No I won't! She-"
Ambassador Harris took him by the arm. "Oh yes you will."
Dave glared at her, but all the same he grumbled, "Sorry."
T'Pol felt her father's hand between her shoulderblades, pushing her forward. "I apologize," she said with as much dignity as she could muster in her dishevelled state. Solkar stepped forward.
"I am deeply sorry for the behaviour of my daughter, Ambassador Harris. I assure you, she will receive an appropriate punishment."
T'Pol felt a twinge of unease and saw Dave stick out his tongue at her. Ambassador Harris cleared his throat. "I'm sure this wasn't T'Pol's fault, Solkar. I'm the one who has to apologize and you have my word David will have to face the consequences of his actions as well."
Dave swallowed and T'Pol raised an eyebrow. Ambassador Harris apologized again, and, grabbing his son by the arm, he left the conference room. A moment before the door closed behind them, she could her Harris' voice.
"...I told you not to get in trouble! What were you doing in there anyway? And what about that potted plant?"
Apprehensively, T'Pol looked up at her father whose face was expressionless as ever, but for an angry glitter in his eyes.
"I am very disappointed in you, T'Pol," he said, clasping his hands behind his back. "The behaviour you displayed was unworthy of a Vulcan. Follow me to the quarters where we can discuss this in greater detail."
He turned striding towards the door and T'Pol followed him, a feeling of dread forming in her stomach. She knew there would be a long lecture on the importance of staying calm and controlled at all times, and at least three weeks of extra meditations. Thinking of how Dave had stuck out his tongue at her, she felt anger rise in her again. She couldn't see why her father had chosen a career in which he had to deal with humans on a regular basis. Deciding she herself would never make that mistake, T'Pol followed her father down the hallway to their quarters.
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Note: Never mess with a Vulcan lady.
Part #3 to come soon...