Epilogue - Mixed Results


Commander Tucker stood grinning in the control room overlooking the shuttle
bay. The doors were open, and he waited in anticipation. The pod ascended shortly,
then he pushed a button and sealed the room. After the shuttle had landed, he pushed
another button, and the bay re-pressurized. Finally, the green light flashed, and he
scrambled down to the floor. Hands on his hips, he watched as the hatch slowly lifted.
T'Pol backed out gingerly. She was re-dressed in her white robe, though a tuft
of pink taffeta peeked out from beneath her collar.
Trip beamed.
"Hey!" he leered. "How'd it go?"
She spun around and glared.
"Uhh...T'Pol?"
"What?" she glared.
"Uhh... Why are you carryin' a chicken?"
"It is not," she glared, "a chicken."
She glared some more, then she limped off towards the stairway.
Trip scratched his head.
"Alrighty..." he mumbled, then he added, "Hey! I like your tiara!"
T'Pol stopped short. She reached and promptly removed it, then she calmly
dropped it where she stood. Without looking back, she resumed her limp and left
the bay.

Trip puzzled for a moment, then he turned around and bumped into Hoshi - she
had a stray lock of hair dangling in her face.
"Hoshi, why're you and T'Pol carryin' chickens?" he asked. "And why was
she limpin'?"
"They're Guilly birds," she puffed.
"Fine... So?"
"Look, it's a really long story, sir," she puffed. "I'm sure the captain will explain
everything, ok?"
"Suit yourself," he shrugged.
Hoshi puffed again and rustled towards the exit.

Lastly, Archer stepped out and adjusted his robe.
He didn't look happy.
Trip crossed his arms and postured.
"Cap'ain, what's goin'- ?"
"Shut up, Trip," he said.
He gave him the bird and walked off.