"Really Trip. With your track record for getting possessed by microbes, heat stroke and captured on away missions… Haven't you been shot twice now?"
Trip and Malcolm were walking down the hall that lead away from the Captain's ready room. The mission briefing had just finished. It had been quite obvious to Malcolm that his friend was not pleased to be staying aboard Enterprise while T'Pol, Hoshi, himself go down to Jax to investigate.
Trip stopped and turned his head toward the Lieutenant with exaggerated frustration. "I seem 'ta remember someone else getting' shot on Risa. Wasn't my ass that the Vulcans had to tractor beam off of a comet either. Try remembering, Lieutenant, that the number of times 'ya get your ass kicked is in direct proportion to how often you put it on the line."
The moment the words were out of his mouth, Trip realized his mistake. Malcolm fixed him with cool glance.
"As armory officer I think it has more to do with the size of the target. Maybe some of us are just bigger asses than others?" Malcolm resumed walking down the hall.
Trip stood there for a moment and then jogged a few steps to catch up. "You enjoy getting the last word, don't 'ya?"
"Immensely."
"Well 'ya should. I was outta line back there, Malcolm." Trip favored the armory officer with a lopsided grin, "How 'bout ya' take ma' place on all the away missions. Then, by process of away mission elimination, I will become a Captain and retire at a ripe old age."
Malcolm tried to stifle a grin. He didn't want Tucker to think that he was completely off the hook. The Commander truly had a gift for deflecting aggravation with his sense of humor. To bad it couldn't shield him from phaser fire.
"Alright then, why are you so bloody hell bent to go on this away mission?" Malcolm thought he knew the answer, but he wanted to see if Trip did too.
"Maybe it's my opportunity to return from an away mission with my own clothes on or not having to visit sick bay? The planet's dead for cryin' out loud. What trouble could we get in down there, anyway?"
The look Malcolm gave Trip spoke volumes as to the believability of that statement.
"I'd get a chance to examine alien technology without anybody hollering at us?" Tucker's voice got a little softer and sounded more like he was asking Malcolm to help convince himself.
The needle on Malcolm's internal BS meter red-lined. "Would you like to take one more run at the real reason why you want to go down to that planet?"
The edge in Trip's voice was more from frustration with himself rather than his friend. "Would it be that I don't wanna let a certain Vulcan outta my sight?" Trip knew he had a poor away mission record, but T'Pol's wasn't much better. "Don't see 'ya complaining about the company you'll be keeping, 'specially after the calf eyes you were makin' in Hoshi's direction last night."
"I don't recall that I'm the one having trouble coming to terms with whom I'm attracted to."
"It'll take us two days to arrive at the planet that we're investigat'in. Maybe when the Captain sees how peaceful the planet is and how well I'm doin', he'll change his mind?"
Malcolm pointedly eyed the brace on the Commander's leg.
"You are still limping."
"Less every day."
"Didn't the doctor say that you would need the brace for a few weeks?"
Trip glared at Malcolm and crossly added, "I thought your rank was Lieutenant, not mother?"
Malcolm barked out a laugh and shook his head. "I'm not the one you need to convince, but I can tell you right now, your arguments are going to need to be quite a bit more compelling if you are going to change the captain's mind."
Trip hung his head in frustration as Malcolm took the turn to the armory. When will things, just anything, ever get easier?
********************
The last twenty-four hours helped Trip realize that nothing EVER gets easier. What guy hasn't dreamed of being able to sense his girlfriend's thoughts? Girlfriend? Yikes, what would T'Pol say if he called her that?
Wouldn't it just be peachy if she had normal emotions or occasionally even had a single thought about him when he was around? Last night at the awards ceremony, he thought he had everything on a silver platter. Now, if possible, he was even less secure about what a relationship with T'Pol would involve.
And it didn't help that they never seemed to catch a moment alone. Right after the briefing, the Captain and senior officers met in the docking bay to escort the entire Aviarian entourage to their shuttle to make their farewells.
Saying good-bye to Rook was hard. The little fella wrapped both arms around the Commander's neck. The difficulty was that in order to say goodbye, you needed to be able to take in a breath.
Before Trip had a chance to react, Rook fairly launched himself into the Vulcan's arms. "Hey T'Pol, I'll miss you and the Commander somethin' fierce." Wiggling closer so that he could get near T'Pol's ear, Rook whispered, "I won't be around to look after Trip. Would you take care of him for me? He gets into a lot of trouble."
Fortunately for Malcolm, the Captain's chuckle drowned out his own laugh that he tried to camouflage with a cough. Out of the mouths of babes, he thought.
"The Enterprise crew and I will make the utmost effort to fulfill your role as the Commander's protector," T'Pol solemnly vowed with out a hint of amusement.
It just keeps gettin' better and better, Trip thought as he looked up at the ceiling plating as if for divine guidance. None was forthcoming.
***********************
The ship went underway within a half hour of the departure of the Aviarians and Vulcans. Trip was kept busy monitoring the equipment that had been repaired – ever vigilant for fluctuations that might signal a need for adjustments. The Aviarians had helped with some upgrades that would ensure that the Enterprise's engines could maintain top speed for a longer interval than previously recorded.
Not that the Captain would call on the engines to reach top speed on a milk run to a planet that they would probably scan to pieces and then kick the dirt around for a while. What evidence could be left on a planet after ten years of an epidemic and what and who caused it?
T'Pol was busy conferring with the doctor about the environmental scans that they should run and what type medical records that they should try to download from any medical facilities they encounter. These duties put a welcome distance between herself and the Commander. She knew quite well that there was quite a bit they had to work out. And she could sense Trip's questions and even insecurities over their current circumstances. They would have to work out the answers together because there was no Vulcan philosophical text that would guide them through this situation.
Trip would probably not appreciate being referred to as a "situation". She would need to ponder more appropriate terminology before they next consulted. He probably would not appreciate a "consultation" either. Possibly some more time and a little more distance might make this somewhat easier. She wondered if what she was experiencing was what humans referred to as "procrastination." And to think that on Vulcan they referred to this same strategy as contemplation. She needed to think more on all of this.
At least she has some space. As a Vulcan, she did not necessarily feel relief, but her universe was a much more manageable place with the Vulcans off the ship. Odd that only a few months ago she craved the companionship of other Vulcans for the respite from being surrounded by these humans and their disorderly rationales.
**********************
Hoshi was busy researching the history of the Jaxians and getting a solid understanding from the Vulcan database of the Jaxian written language. They had two days and she wanted to make sure that she could direct them to the right areas for their research. Hoshi also wanted to make sure that the Universal Translator was programmed with as much Jaxian syntax as possible. They might run across recordings that might be invaluable in their search.
***********************
Malcolm reviewed the armament that they were taking down to Jax on what could be one of many visits across the planet. No one was expecting a confrontation, so the weapons that he chose were mostly hand phasers. He took some shock grenades that would quickly scatter any wild life they encountered on the planet.
***********************
If precognition had run in the Reed family, Malcolm would have nuked the planet from orbit and saved them all quite a bit of mayhem. Instead, he closed the small weapons locker and secured it in the shuttle.
TBC…
