N E B U L O U S V E X Chapter 4 Repression
It's always Captain this and Captain that. Why can't people just leave me alone?
Much like the coral-colored gases outside his window, Jonathan Archer's thoughts swirled
about his ready room. He was pretending to read the latest bestseller by Foltrane Nixhedge
and was doing a poor job at fooling even himself.
It's not too much to ask. Just a little time to myself every now and then. Of course,
there's a downside to that. At least when other people are around, I'm not constantly
thinking about-
The door beeped, then beeped again a few moments later, because the captain ignored it
the first time. Finally, he answered.
"It'd better be important."
The door opened, and T'Pol stepped halfway inside.
"Captain, I spoke with Commander Tucker," she said flatly. "He seems to be worried."
"Well, you'd know more about that than I would," he said to his book.
"Sir?"
Archer sighed and cracked his neck.
"Ok, so what's he worried about?"
"You."
"Well, tell him to worry about somebody else."
Undeterred, T'Pol moved into the room, and the door slid shut behind her.
"He seems to think that something is the matter."
"Well, he's free to think whatever he wants," Archer scoffed.
"Is there?"
"Is there what?"
"Something the matter?" T'Pol persisted.
"I don't know," Archer whined, finally looking up from his book. "Maybe it's just
this Slash Nebula..."
"Sh'Lash," T'Pol corrected. "If I may ask, how have you been sleeping?"
"What difference does it make?"
"The captain's well-being is essential to both the mission and the crew," she said.
"Perhaps a Vulcan neural node treatment would help you."
"I don't really see how a massage is-"
"It is not a massage," she corrected. "It is a neural node treatment."
"Fine. But I don't see how a...neural node treatment is going to do me any good."
"I'm sure that Commander Tucker would disagree," T'Pol noted.
"I'm sure he would."
"I have a session scheduled for this evening, but I can cancel it. As I said, your
well-being is important."
"That's ok," Archer said. "I wouldn't wanna put Trip out."
"The session is not with the commander."
"Who's it with then?"
T'Pol was hesitant to answer, but Jonathan's look was persistent.
"Hosh- Ensign Sato, rather, has been having difficulty..."
"Hoshi..." Archer mumbled softly. He seemed distant.
"Yes. She...has been having back problems," T'Pol lied flatly. "The doctor could not help
her, so I agreed to...assist."
"Phlox..." Archer muttered quietly. He seemed lost.
"Captain?"
"Nothing," he said. "Look, I appreciate your concern, but I'm really not up for a mass-
I'm really not up for a neural node treatment."
"Very well," she conceded. "But if you should reconsider..."
"I'll let you know."
T'Pol turned to leave then turned back just before she stepped outside.
"Perhaps I will stop by your quarters later," she said. "To check on you."
Archer nodded and resumed not reading his book.
Trip found Mayweather just where the computer said he was: the exercise room.
He was lifting weights.
"Hey Travis."
After a heavy-sounding clink, the ensign sat up abruptly and quickly grabbed a towel.
"C-Commander," he stuttered shyly.
"Say, do you remember that-"
"Are you feeling ok, Commander Tucker?"
"What? I guess... Why?"
"Well, you just look really tense, that's all," Travis said sympathetically. "How are
things down in engineering?"
"'Bout the same as usual. Ramirez took a tumble today... I look tense?"
"I'll say! You know, back when I was a Boomer, I learned how to do this special
type of rub-down. I think it would do you a world of good."
"Thanks, but T'Pol gave me a neural node treatment just last Wednesday and-"
"It's not a neural node treatment," Travis corrected. "It's a rub-down. I picked it up
from a Chinese Feng Shui master."
"Really?"
"Sure," Travis said as he rubbed his hands together. "Here, let me show you."
"Well, ok," Trip shrugged. "Anyways, you remember that shuttle pod- Ouch!"
"Sorry!" he said. "You're just all knots!"
"I guess," Trip squirmed. "So, that shuttle pod mission... You remember? The one
to Lutara?"
"Yes, Sir," Travis rubbed.
"Just you and the captain, right? A little to the left..."
"Ok... Yep, just me and the captain," he said. "Hey, what's that cologne you're
wearing?
"What?"
"It smells nice," he said. "I really like it."
"Oh. Well... It was a gift from T'Pol. It's Vulcan. She got it for me on my last birthday.
Kel'van K'line's 'Repression' or somethin' like that..."
"She's got good taste," Travis noted. "So are you and her...? You know..."
"Nah, just friends... I think..." Trip mumbled, then he got back to the issue at hand.
"So you and the captain on the Lutara trip - you were together for about 24 hours,
weren't ya?"
"Give or take," Travis said. "You know, I could do a better job if you took off your
blues."
"What?"
"I mean, just so I can get to your shoulders easier."
"Well... Sure," he said. "Whatever."
Trip stood up and started unzipping his uniform.
"So now, Travis, while you and the captain were together," he continued. "Did anything
happen?"
"Sir?"
"Did anything happen on the way there or maybe on the way back?"
"No, Sir," Travis said. "The captain's really not my type, if that's what you mean."
Commander Tucker, never much for art, suddenly decided to try his hand at sculpture;
more precisely, he became a statue.
Moments passed.
"Did, uh..."
Travis smiled.
"Did, uh, anything happen to the captain?" Trip asked as he ever-so-slowly zipped
his uniform back up. "I mean... Not between you and- I mean, did anything unusual
happen?"
"That was almost two weeks ago," Travis said. "Hey! Don't you want me to finish the
rub-down?"
"No," Trip said. "No. No... Nope. I... You know what? I feel a whole lot better
already! Thanks!"
"Listen, um, Commander?" Travis flexed. "I'm getting ready to lift some really heavy
weights. Would you mind spotting me? I mean, if you have the time and everything..."
"Ya know, I would," Trip said. "I would, but I'm needed...down in engineering."
"Oh."
"Yep."
"Well, here's an idea," Travis suggested. "Let me think about it for a while - about
the captain and whatnot? Then maybe you and I can meet for a drink or something later
on and talk, you know, about...things?"
"Well, uh, sure... I guess..."
"What time?"
"What time what?"
"Well, what time do you want to get that drink?"
"Uhhh," Trip evaded. "Why don't you just comm me if you remember something?
Yeah... I like that... You comm me."
"Sure, Sir!"
"Ok then."
After a brief and uncomfortable series of good-byes, Trip escaped to the corridor,
where he proceeded to walk carefully but quickly away. As he did so, he thought
seriously about that drink - only, in this case, it was a double and he was alone...
Or maybe with Malcolm... I wonder where he's at right now?
He stopped at a nearby terminal and asked the computer to locate his favorite lieutenant.
The computer politely informed him that he was still in sickbay.
I'd better leave him be. It must be important, or he wouldn't be down there...
Who else can I drink with? Hmmm...
Commander Tucker's Hmmm... was interrupted by a flash of femininity better known
as Hoshi. She was a good two meters gone before he even had a chance to speak.
"Hi Hoshi!"
She stopped, but whether it was out of politeness or duty, only she knew.
"Commander," she half-turned.
"Gosh, Hoshi," Trip ogled. "You sure do look nice! I don't think I've ever seen you
in a dress before!"
"Thanks, Sir," she said impatiently. "I, uh, really need to be-"
"Hey Hoshi, I was on my way to get a drink," he said. "Would you care to-"
"Look, I'd love to, Sir, just not right now, ok?"
"Suit yourself."
She flashed the briefest of smiles and twirled with a swoosh, leaving behind an invisible,
Hoshi-shaped perfume silhouette which quickly dissipated into nothing. Trip just stood there
for a moment and pouted.
"Well, ta' hell with all this!" he grumped. "Ta' hell with the captain and everybody else!
I'm done. From now on, I'm lookin' after me!"
His independence formally declared, Trip threw his hands in the air for punctuation then
stormed off towards the mess hall, leaving behind an invisible, Trip-shaped, 'Repression'
silhouette which also quickly dissipated (though in a much more logical fashion than Hoshi's.)