Chapter 3
Dr. Phlox was near beside himself with joy about his stop on Betazed. There were several new samples of medication on Betazed that he'd never encountered before and his colleagues on the surface were more than willing to share the information with the Denobulan doctor. Not to mention the facilities were excellent.
The main medical complex was located in a costal city right on the shore of one of Betazed's most beautiful coastlines. He cheerily jaunted off the shuttlepod with a wave to Crewman Jeffries.
"Ah, Dr. Phlox I presume?" a young Betazed man greeted him warmly; "I'm Dr. Michal of the neurological institute. It's a pleasure."
"Indeed" accepted the other man's embrace stiffly but in good spirit, "May I congratulate you Doctor on this facility, it's quite remarkable."
"It's not my facility, but I thank you" he walked Phlox into the main building, "This has been a centre of medical innovation on Betazed for millennia. In the old days it was believed all maladies were based in the mind, and that if surrounded by beauty and luxury illness would simply vanish" he chuckled as he spoke, "We know better now, but I still feel that happy thoughts fuel a happy immune system, do you not agree?"
"Very much so, Doctor," Phlox enthused, "I was most delighted to hear of new research into neural and psychic disease"
"It's a lonely field, I'm afraid, there are few telepathic species in this part of the galaxy," he turned down a wide, well appointed hall, "The maladies I fear are somewhat unique to our brain type."
"There are several telepathic species in this part of the galaxy," Phlox countered, "And many more species, including my own, who have similar cerebral configurations."
"You're absolutely correct," Michal agreed, "And I have been fortunate enough to encounter an excellent pair of physicians in the neurological field, might I introduce them to you while you are here Phlox?"
"It would be my honour" the good Denobulan smiled, but with ulterior motive. Ever since Sub-Commander T'Pol had been diagnosed with Pa'Nar syndrome every spare moment of his medical time had been devoted to finding a cure, assisted in no small part by the lady herself.
Her education was invaluable. The Vulcan Science Academy was the single most prestigious school of science in the known galaxy. T'Pol had not two, but three advanced degrees from the august institution, chemistry, exo-biology, and physics.
Not that his own qualifications were in any way lacking, but she was, after all a Vulcan and had firsthand experience with the disease. They'd progressed with it considerably, using the information given to them, as well as other sources from Phlox's wide medical acquaintance. They succeeded more rapidly in understanding of the syndrome than the Vulcan doctors had previously ever done.
A cure however, was still far in the distance.
"I am curious indeed to see how you have progressed in treatment of deteriorating neural pathways. There are several illnesses on Denobula that are symptomatic of neural degradation." Phlox listened to the other man's description of his treatment methods carefully, discarding those treatments that he'd already used on the Sub-Commander, and analyzing carefully for feasible options. The main loss of mental control caused by Pa'Nar syndrome was due to neural pathways deteriorated by the stress of the mind meld.
They settled in a well appointed lab, flanked by two overflowing atriums of lush green vegetation. Diving immediately into a series of highly complex tests, Phlox didn't notice the intrusion until they spoke.
"Well," it was a man's deep, rich voice "I see you've found your doctor, Mischal."
"Indeed," the Betazed, grinned, "May I introduce to you, Dr. Phlox, Gul Tancret, of the Cardassian Medical Authority"
"My colleague, and good friend I might add, Kira Seline, from the planet of Bajor, a close neighbor of Cardassia Prime." The man was similar to Phlox, with pronounced eye, forehead, and neck ridges, the woman, very fair, with a deeply ridged nose.
"My pleasure" Phlox greeted them eagerly and immediately all three fell to discussion. Soon Phlox found himself moving from the 'Denobulan illnesses' to 'induced neural trauma' to 'my Vulcan colleague'.
"Plox to T'Pol" He could not have interrupted a meeting with any more welcome than he did now. Both T'Pol and Captain Archer were sick to death of sitting in front of row after row of Betazed Ministers of thus-and-such.
"Go ahead, Doctor" T'Pol answered the call with alacrity.
"I have some acquaintances here from the Betazed neurological institutes that are very anxious to meet you" he sounded positively buoyant. T'Pol's brow furrowed together, not understanding why he'd called her about the topic but eager to get out of her diplomatic obligations.
"Really?" her voice sounded vaguely distant, but intrigued.
"Indeed, they are anxious to hear about your progress in the analyzing of the symptoms of neural pathway decay." Phlox's response piqued her curiosity. He'd never asked her to join one of his frequent 'research' trips among other doctors. They'd decided tacitly to keep her involvement to a minimum.
"As you wish Doctor" she rose, and returned her tea to the Minister of culture. Perhaps she would not have left quite as eagerly if she hadn't been quite so bored with the requisite diplomatic rounds that needed to be made during a new first contact.
"We look forwards to seeing you…Doctor" and Phlox cut out.
Archer's brows shot to the ceiling in surprise, but managed to hold his tongue. "Well minister, it seems as though the only gentlemanly thing to do is escort the lady to her task. I hear the coast is lovely this time of year. I don't suppose you could provide us with transport."
"Why of course, my dear Captain, I will take you to the southern continent myself. Indeed it is the finest of all coastlines in the parsec, though I say it myself…" as the young, very eager to please man rattled on about the aesthetic pleasures of the medical facility.
Archer leaned in to T'Pol and asked "Doctor?"
"Technically" T'Pol murmured. "I do hold several doctorates from the Vulcan science academy. Not necessarily medical degrees, but it is, I believe, entirely acceptable to refer to me as 'doctor'."
"I am I to assume that Pa'Nar syndrome is characterized by neural pathway degradation?" he asked, amused.
"Indeed," she acknowledged.
"And I don't suppose you're an expert on the symptoms of the disease?" he asked, smiling at her neat circumvention of the truth.
"I am quite familiar with the characteristics" she said, with a ghost of a smile.
"Couldn't have picked a better time," Jon grinned, "If have to hear one more description of the 'indescribably beautiful' I might induce some neural pathway degradation of my own."
For once the Minister of Culture was not exaggerating. The coastline of the southern continent of Betazed was positively gorgeous. More beautiful, in Jon's opinion, then the resort on Risa where he'd spent a…interesting two days and two nights.
They landed on the Medical Centre shuttle pad, and were met joyously by Dr. Phlox and several other doctors of varying species.
"Captain!!" he shouted over the whine of anti-gravity servos, "What a pleasure! And Sub-Commander!! Might I introduce Gul Tancret of the Cardassian Medical Authority, his collegue from Bajor, Kira Seline, and the head of the neurological institute Dr. Mischal of Betazed."
"Live long and prosper" she greeted, as she allowed Jon to assist her from the pod, "You have need of me Doctor?"
"Yes!" he shouted, though there was no need to out voice the servos, "I don't know of any other Vulcan who understands the symptoms of neurological degradation better than you"
She paused; almost imperceptibly while gathering her robes to exit the craft. If Jon hadn't given her his hand to help her step down he would never have noticed the slight tremor as T'Pol heard the remark.
"You are mistaken Doctor," T'Pol countered evenly, "It has been a very long time since I studied neurological systems. I am, by no means, an expert."
"But you are the closest Vulcan on hand who…"
"Can we continue this conversation inside?" Jon shouted as another pod began to whine as it descended onto the platform. He deliberately cut off whatever the Doctor was saying about her being 'the closest Vulcan on hand'. He was sure that Phlox would never deliberately betray a medical confidence, but in his enthusiasm Jon was afraid for T'Pol's secrets.
After they'd adjourned to a quieter, more tranquil location, it seemed that Phlox's enthusiasm had been tempered somewhat by the 'meaningful' glances by T'Pol in his direction.
"So tell me, T'Pol," the Cardassian asked curiously, "how does a Doctor end up a Sub-Commander on a foreign starship?"
Jon sensed the question was less an introduction and more a confrontation, "She's my science officer and second in command, representing the Vulcan Science Directorate."
Apparently that was the right thing to say because Kira and Mishal both immediately gave her a look of deep respect.
"As I was saying," T'Pol remarked casually, but her face was deadpan, a sure sign that she was feeling stress, "It has been some time since I have been at the Science Academy, however I will assist your investigation in any way possible."
Immediately, the Doctors launched into a diatribe on this characteristic of that neural pathway. Jon, feeling quite lost, pitched his voice somewhat louder and said "Sub-Commander, we still have an engagement with the Minister of Culture later on…when do you think you'll be ready?"
"An hour" she responded, her features relaxing gratefully, then at Phlox's skeptical look she amended, "Perhaps two"
"I'll call back then." He caught her look of almost desperate appreciation. "Two hours, Sub-Commander"
Jon left the building checking his watch carefully. According to his guide, there were several 'absolutely fabulous' shopping districts in the nearby city, as well as some lovely restaurants. He decided to spend the next couple of hour's just walking, window shopping, and just plain getting the kinks out.
"Hey Cap'n" he'd recognize that voice anywhere, "Thought you was up north in th' capital" Trip hailed his friend from one of the largest open air markets. He was dressed in a loudly checked beach bum Hawaiian shirt and cutoff shorts with sandals. Some things never change.
"Trip, Hoshi" Jon greeted them, laden with bags. Apparently they'd been doing their part to support the local economy. "Looks like you're having fun"
"This is a great place, Jon," Hoshi enthused, "I've picked up a dozen things that my family will just love!"
Trip pretended to sag under the weight of the bags they'd accumulated, eliciting a laugh from everyone, even a few passers by. The market was teeming with people from all over Betazed, and even a few off-worlders determined to get a good price.
"T'Pol and Doctor Phlox are over at the neurological centre, setting records for speed talking no doubt," Jon joked emptily, he knew darn well why they were there, "we have a lunch date in a few, so I was just taking in the sights"
"Sounds great," Hoshi enthused; Trip seemed a little more miffed at Jon's description of a lunch 'date'. "There's this little…café I guess, over by the waterfront. Great place, we stopped there for a late brunch. Lots of really fresh seafood…."
"Yeah but miss ice an' iron don't eat meat, might as well go to a bistro and save yourself the trouble." Trip said almost harshly.
"…and a great selection of tropical fruits." Hoshi finished, sounding annoyed. "I'm sure Dr. Phlox and T'Pol will both find it acceptable."
"Sounds just perfect," Jon smiled, "C'mon Hosh, Trip, show me what you got" it was, apparently, the right thing to say, because Hoshi's eyes immediately lit up and she pulled everything out of the bags immediately to show him. They talked as they walked, negotiating crowds and vendors.
He found himself unable to resist a small painting he knew his Mom would love. Then there was the Tiraxline silk that just made a perfect scarf for his cousin Jackie. Then what really tested his resolve was a gorgeous, perfect, wonderfully subtle pendant on a silver chain that made him immediately think of T'Pol.
It was a deep ruby, what they called a 'firestone', table cut to quarter inch thickness and almost perfectly translucent, mounted so that the wearer could look through the flat surface. The jeweler said that the most common work he did on those stones was for travelers, he would, for a price, etch an image of someone's home world, favorite landmark, or loved one's portrait onto the flawless surface.
The price was not marked.
Reluctantly Jon left the store, not wanting to call attention to his desire to buy the jewel. He swiftly located the restaurant Hoshi picked out and almost had to run to meet his two hour deadline with T'Pol.
It was a good thing too, for when he arrived at the Institute there was no one there. He asked the secretary, who pointed him in the direction of a lab, or set of labs, rather, that belonged to the director.
As he approached the glass he could see the rear of Dr. Phlox as he bent over a microscope, or at least it looked like a microscope, with the other in close attendance. T'Pol had shed her outer robe and tunic, and was standing slightly apart.
From behind the glass he couldn't see very well, but it looked like she was tense. Her jaw was set, her feet planted firmly apart, and arms crossed not behind her, but across the front, just under her breast. He tapped on the glass.
"Sorry to interrupt," Jon said genially, "But I'm afraid the Sub-Commander's two hours are up. We have a lunch reservation"
"But Captain we've barely broken the ice" the large Cardassian protested, the others tittered a little with amusement; "Surely you can spare the good Doctor for a little longer."
"I have other obligations," T'Pol murmured tightly, deliberately not raising her voice so that the strain she was feeling didn't show, "Perhaps later this afternoon. Doctors…"
Jon noticed that she'd whisked right into her robe and tunic within seconds and was practically pushing him out the door, even as she volunteered to return, as they almost ran towards the exit, he got a good look at his science officer.
She looked like hell.