Part 2: Where Chaos is King
The 20th century movie Star Wars had indicated that a ship was going to light speed by having the stars fade to star lines. Though Enterprise was clipping along at warp three, Jon could still see each individual star from where he sat in his ready room.
He had been a star-gazer all his life. His favorite childhood memories were of going to the beach with his father late at night and learning the stars by name. as captain of this ship, he would often gain strength from the serenity he saw in these stars, or simply relax while enjoying their beauty.
He'd been born for this role, everyone said so. But now that it had been his for almost three years, he found himself unwilling to leave the relative safety of his ready room to explore the strange new world his ship had morphed into.
Even the stars didn't hold the answer to the things that had been happening lately. They couldn't tell him why Trip, his normally easy-going, cheerful engineer, was showing signs of mild depression, nor could they explain why T'Pol—logical, detached T'Pol—was easily agitated, prone to outbursts, and overtly emotional.
The gravity of their mission had changed all of them, but these two were downright disconcerting. Instead of one aspect of their personality being heightened, it was as if they had completely changed
He wasn't worried about Trip, figuring the anticipation of stopping the Xindi was probably forcing him to deal with his grief over Lizzie's death. In fact, he was glad his friend was finally starting to show some emotional response to what had happened—keeping the pain in this long might even be part of the reason he'd changed recently.
T'Pol was a different matter altogether. Besides the fact that he had no idea what to ay to an emotional Vulcan, her feelings of agitation seemed to be getting stronger, more out of control. Thrice in the last two weeks he'd witnessed her emotions so close to the surface that they almost spilled over, and that worried him.
The first two times he'd pushed aside the niggling concerns, convincing himself it was just the pressures of the job. Her plea that he not leave, that she didn't want to lose him, had touched him. There was something immensely gratifying about hearing the words he had once given her coming from her lips.
And in sickbay? No one knew better than him how upsetting it could be to lose people when you were sitting in the captain's seat. Surely that was why her hand had been shaking slightly when they had talked.
Now he wasn't convinced he'd read either of those incidents correctly. T'Pol had been concerned for his safety before, and she had regretted lost crew members, but she'd never let it show. She'd certainly never thrown a temper tantrum in his ready room, no matter how aggravating she found his decisions.
Part of his responsibilities as captain was to look out for the general well-being of the crew. More than anything, that was what was keeping him here, staring out at the stars when there was work to be done. He needed to figure out what was going on with T'Pol, for the safety of the ship if nothing else. If her judgment was hampered, they would all be in danger.
However, it was more than duty that placed in him a need to know what was happening to her. He was concerned for her. Her apparent vulnerability had sparked in him a need to take care of her, to protect her from harm. For a Vulcan to display such strong emotion, there must be something seriously wrong, and it was driving him crazy not knowing what it was.
His understanding of Vulcan culture had kept him from asking though. After showing such a lack of control, she was sure to be embarrassed, and if there was one thing he'd learned, it was that it's easier to squeeze blood from a rock than to get an embarrassed T'Pol to talk.
Somehow, he had a feeling Phlox knew what was going on, but he would never break doctor-patient confidentiality just because the captain was worried. If he could come up with a reason that he needed to know... but that wasn't likely. He was on his own with this one.
Leaning back in his chair, he tried to pinpoint when he'd first observed a difference in her behavior. A few weeks ago there'd been noticeable tension between her and Trip, which he had pointedly ignored. He'd intuitively known that if T'Pol ever released her emotions, they would wash over the recipient like a tidal wave. In his dreams, he had allowed himself to imagine that he would be the one to experience them, and the idea that another man might have instead made him sick.
He'd been right though—from the moment she was exposed to the Trellium-D, her emotions were a force to be reckoned with. Once they got back to Enterprise, she pulled them under control, but she'd never returned to the completely impassive first officer he'd known for two years. In fact, she'd grown gradually more impetuous and occasionally had acted irrationally.
Jon suddenly felt like a man who'd been unable to see the forest for all the trees. There was a likely cause to her emotional upheaval, one he'd never thought to consider. Phlox had given her a clean bill of health, but maybe there were residual effects, or maybe... No. Surely she wouldn't be foolish enough to purposely use a substance she knew was fatal.
He looked to the stars, hoping to find something that would disprove the suspicion growing in the pit of his stomach, but this time they held no answers for him. Shaking his head, he reached over and hit a button, turning his comm on. "Archer to Tucker... Trip, I've got something I need you to check on..."
The 20th century movie Star Wars had indicated that a ship was going to light speed by having the stars fade to star lines. Though Enterprise was clipping along at warp three, Jon could still see each individual star from where he sat in his ready room.
He had been a star-gazer all his life. His favorite childhood memories were of going to the beach with his father late at night and learning the stars by name. as captain of this ship, he would often gain strength from the serenity he saw in these stars, or simply relax while enjoying their beauty.
He'd been born for this role, everyone said so. But now that it had been his for almost three years, he found himself unwilling to leave the relative safety of his ready room to explore the strange new world his ship had morphed into.
Even the stars didn't hold the answer to the things that had been happening lately. They couldn't tell him why Trip, his normally easy-going, cheerful engineer, was showing signs of mild depression, nor could they explain why T'Pol—logical, detached T'Pol—was easily agitated, prone to outbursts, and overtly emotional.
The gravity of their mission had changed all of them, but these two were downright disconcerting. Instead of one aspect of their personality being heightened, it was as if they had completely changed
He wasn't worried about Trip, figuring the anticipation of stopping the Xindi was probably forcing him to deal with his grief over Lizzie's death. In fact, he was glad his friend was finally starting to show some emotional response to what had happened—keeping the pain in this long might even be part of the reason he'd changed recently.
T'Pol was a different matter altogether. Besides the fact that he had no idea what to ay to an emotional Vulcan, her feelings of agitation seemed to be getting stronger, more out of control. Thrice in the last two weeks he'd witnessed her emotions so close to the surface that they almost spilled over, and that worried him.
The first two times he'd pushed aside the niggling concerns, convincing himself it was just the pressures of the job. Her plea that he not leave, that she didn't want to lose him, had touched him. There was something immensely gratifying about hearing the words he had once given her coming from her lips.
And in sickbay? No one knew better than him how upsetting it could be to lose people when you were sitting in the captain's seat. Surely that was why her hand had been shaking slightly when they had talked.
Now he wasn't convinced he'd read either of those incidents correctly. T'Pol had been concerned for his safety before, and she had regretted lost crew members, but she'd never let it show. She'd certainly never thrown a temper tantrum in his ready room, no matter how aggravating she found his decisions.
Part of his responsibilities as captain was to look out for the general well-being of the crew. More than anything, that was what was keeping him here, staring out at the stars when there was work to be done. He needed to figure out what was going on with T'Pol, for the safety of the ship if nothing else. If her judgment was hampered, they would all be in danger.
However, it was more than duty that placed in him a need to know what was happening to her. He was concerned for her. Her apparent vulnerability had sparked in him a need to take care of her, to protect her from harm. For a Vulcan to display such strong emotion, there must be something seriously wrong, and it was driving him crazy not knowing what it was.
His understanding of Vulcan culture had kept him from asking though. After showing such a lack of control, she was sure to be embarrassed, and if there was one thing he'd learned, it was that it's easier to squeeze blood from a rock than to get an embarrassed T'Pol to talk.
Somehow, he had a feeling Phlox knew what was going on, but he would never break doctor-patient confidentiality just because the captain was worried. If he could come up with a reason that he needed to know... but that wasn't likely. He was on his own with this one.
Leaning back in his chair, he tried to pinpoint when he'd first observed a difference in her behavior. A few weeks ago there'd been noticeable tension between her and Trip, which he had pointedly ignored. He'd intuitively known that if T'Pol ever released her emotions, they would wash over the recipient like a tidal wave. In his dreams, he had allowed himself to imagine that he would be the one to experience them, and the idea that another man might have instead made him sick.
He'd been right though—from the moment she was exposed to the Trellium-D, her emotions were a force to be reckoned with. Once they got back to Enterprise, she pulled them under control, but she'd never returned to the completely impassive first officer he'd known for two years. In fact, she'd grown gradually more impetuous and occasionally had acted irrationally.
Jon suddenly felt like a man who'd been unable to see the forest for all the trees. There was a likely cause to her emotional upheaval, one he'd never thought to consider. Phlox had given her a clean bill of health, but maybe there were residual effects, or maybe... No. Surely she wouldn't be foolish enough to purposely use a substance she knew was fatal.
He looked to the stars, hoping to find something that would disprove the suspicion growing in the pit of his stomach, but this time they held no answers for him. Shaking his head, he reached over and hit a button, turning his comm on. "Archer to Tucker... Trip, I've got something I need you to check on..."