Title: "2084"
Author: Quills
Contact: the_quill_pen@yahoo.com
Series: ENT
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star trek and I derive no financial gain from
this story.
Codes: T/Tu angst, drama, romance, humor, action/adventure
Summary: This is a "Somewhere in Time" type story. It takes place in the
Enterprise universe as seen on TV, but about 70 years before Enterprise.
chapter 3 - - - - - - - - - - - - - 3:15 pm ......... - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Trip was driving up 46th avenue. The traffic was moving slowly and he was tempted to go with lights and sirens, but he knew it would send an alarm to the man he and T'Pol needed to see.
"Where are we going Sergeant?" asked T'Pol as she adjusted herself in the passenger seat.
"The Green Parrot," replied Tucker. "and stop callin me Sergeant. Everyone calls me 'Trip' or Tucker...Charles if ya gotta."
T'Pol considered his request a moment. She and the human had already developed a negative working relationship. She wished to mend it to facilitate a more productive partnership. "In an attempt to foster amicable relations between us I shall honor your request..." she considered calling him by his epithetical name, but decided on something less intimate. "Tucker"
He looked over at her and nodded with a smile. "Look...I'm sorry about this mornin'. I had no right poppin off at ya like that. I'm sorry if I offended you."
"You attribute an emotional response where there is none," she replied with a raised brow.
"Yeah...I know...you Vulcans don't have feelins," he said in a way that clearly indicated he didn't believe it. "All the same...I'm sorry. I guess I just don't like it when an outside agency sticks their nose in one of my cases."
T'Pol considered her words before she spoke. "Though I cannot relate specifically to your motivations...I can...appreciate your misgivings when it comes to outside forces becoming involved in one's work."
She looked over at him for a moment "On Vulcan, the end objective is what all are concerned about. Individual merit is of lesser importance. We have a tenant....'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few'."
"Or the one," he added.
"Or the one," she repeated in agreement. "And for your edification...Tucker...it is you who are...'sticking your nose' in my investigation. I have pursued Sonav in a dozen cities on five worlds. Earth is only the latest planet he has brought his...'talents'.
"His 'talents' have left 6 people dead in less than two weeks," Trip retorted.
"And he has left a considerably larger number of victims on the planets he has previously visited," she responded a little more quickly than she intended. "I do not wish to minimize the people he has murdered on your planet," She seemed to waver for a minute and Trip looked over at her. "I have pursued him for a very long time."
He remained quiet for a moment as he considered whether or not he should ask a question that lingered in his mind. "Can I ask you somthin personal?"
She regarded his request for a moment and responded. "Yes."
"Do you hold yourself responsible for the deaths on those other planets and now Earth?" he asked her.
"That would be an illogical mode of thought," she replied.
"Yeah...it would," he agreed. "Maybe you should remember that."
She looked over at him and saw that he was regarding her. After a few moments they turned away from each preferring silence to the sudden uncomfort they both seemed to feel.
T'Pol was the first to break the silence that hung between them. "What is this 'Green Parrot' we are going to?"
"A nite club owned and operated by one Jackson "Profile" Walters," explained Trip "Well known on the street as an information broker for criminals. We haven't been able to charge him with anything largely for lack of hard evidence linking him to any criminal activity."
"And this Jackson Walters may have some information that will assist us in tracking Sonav's movements within your city?" she speculated.
"'Profile' keeps an ear to the ground," said Trip but looking over at T'Pol he noticed her confusion. Smiling, he explained what he had meant. "He maintains a network of information suppliers. If anything is going on in the Miami/Dade area...'Profile' knows about it."
Trip pulled the car into a large, fairly empty parking lot. He kept driving until he came to the exit on the other side and pulled the car around coming to a stop at the edge of an alleyway that gave an advantageous view of the parking lot and the 'Green Parrot' nite club.
"Is this not the location we wish to question this 'Profile' individual at?" asked T'Pol.
"Yeah, but 'Profile ain't here yet," said Trip. "His car isn't in the parking lot."
"Then what course of action should we pursue?" she asked him.
"We wait," he said. "If we go in there while he's not there...his stooges'll alert him and he won't show at all. If we park in this alley...we can move in when he's inside the club."
T'Pol shook her head "Logical."
"Why thank you," said Trip bowing his head in mock civility.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - 6:49 pm............ - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"It has been a considerable amount of time and Mr. Walters has still not made his presence known," observed T'Pol.
"Yeah, well it's only seven," said Trip. "We need to give him some more time. If he doesn't show by ten we'll see about those other two leads, but this is our best option."
"Very well," she agreed.
He looked over at her. "You bored?" he asked.
"Vulcan's do not get 'bored'," she said simply.
"No?" he questioned. "Well humans get bored."
She looked at him curiously.
"Tell me something," he said innocuously.
Her brows furrowed. "About?"
"I don't know," he said. "Vulcan...your job...anything."
She considered his question for a moment and then proceeded to give a cursory lesson in Vulcan astronomy. "Vulcan is one of 6 planets orbiting a red super giant. It is a desert world with a..."
"I didn't mean I wanted an astronomy lesson." he said cutting her off. "I meant tell me about your people."
She considered what she wished to tell this human. He did seem genuinely interested; so she decided that a brief summery would be satisfactory. "My culture is many thousands of your Earth years old," she began. "Before the time of Surak...a great philosophical leader...we were a war like culture capable of great savagery and barbarity...even by human standards. But with the coming of Surak came logic and enlightenment. My people adopted a peaceful existence in which we learned to govern our emotions and not allow them to destroy us."
Trip looked at her. He had to admit, he would never have pegged the Vulcans to have ever been war like. He figured there were a lot of things he didn't know about them.
"But you still have criminals on Vulcan," he said. "Since your a cop."
"I am a member of the Vulcan Security Bureau," she corrected him. "but yes, logic does not assuage all tendencies towards criminality. It is a rare occurrence for a Vulcan to commit a crime and even rarer for one to commit a violent crime, but it does happen."
"So why did you become a cop?" he asked.
"I had an interest in the abhorrent motivations of our ancestors," she replied. "My field of study was psychology. It led me into the Vulcan Security Bureau."
"How long ya been a cop?" he asked her.
"Sixty Seven Years." she answered.
"Sixty Seven...?" he said not bothering to hold back any surprise. "How old ARE you?"
"I am ninety two of your Earth years old," she told him." Vulcans live approximately 2.5 times the lifespan of humans."
He looked at her and could swear she was getting some satisfaction at his surprise." I heard Vulcans lived longer than humans, but I didn't know it was that much longer."
For some reason she felt uncomfortable discussing her age with the human and decided to change the subject "And you? Why did you become a police officer?"
"Well, I guess it goes back to when I was a kid," he told her. "I grew up in this city. I was just a kid when Vulcans made first contact so we still had a lot of internal problems that come with a war torn, fragmented societies. I saw a lot of people get hurt ...or worse. People I knew and cared for. So...when I was old enough I joined the academy and came out a wide eyed rookie full of ideals about how I was gonna save the city.
"But you realized after time that your attempts were...futile at best, because you were saving people from themselves."
Trip looked at her. She had given him a second shock for the day. He didn't know what to say.
"You are surprised by my statement?"
He shook his head.
"There are many constants in the universe. The ideals of those that uphold laws and protect citizens, I have learned, is one of those constants," she told him. "Perhaps when your people leave the confines of your solar system they will see that."
"That's pretty odd talk for a Vulcan," he said. "All I ever hear from you people is how humans need to progress slower so we can prepare ourselves for cultures that we won't have anything in common with."
"Your people find mine a negative detriment to their willingness to press forward into the galaxy," she said. "My people have traveled in space for a very long time. Along the way we have made... mistakes. I believe the Vulcan High Command's efforts to slow Earth's progress is meant with the best of intentions."
"But you don't approve," he said.
She looked at the human for several moments as she considered her response. Turning to look away, she gave it. "No."
"Why not?"
"There was no technologically superior culture to guide Vulcan when it ventured into space," she told him. "We found our own way and eventually our place in the galaxy. I believe Earth should be afforded the same opportunity."
"Are you married," he asked her.
A puzzled look came over her features. It was an odd question to pose. " I- I am bonded to a mate."
Now it was Trip's turn to look puzzled.
"Vulcan's are married by arrangement," she explained "As children we are bonded to our intended mate until the time when we are prepared for marriage."
"So...your still bonded," he asked. "But your not married?"
T'Pol eyed him curiously. "Why are you asking me this?"
He just shook his head and shrugged, "I don't know. I guess I was curious."
She looked down for a moment. "No, I am not married yet." It sounded more like a confession
"The job," said Trip as he stared out the window.
Now it was T'Pol's turn to be surprised.
"I guess it's another one of those constants," he said. "I got an ex-wife who couldn't handle me being a cop. She divorced me and got custody of our son. They live up in the panhandle."
"You have a son?" she asked.
"Yeah," he beamed. "Spittin image of his daddy. He even has my name."
T'Pol looked at him quizzically.
"Charles Tucker II," said Trip. "That's his name. I'm Charles Tucker I. It's a human tradition some fathers follow of naming their sons after themselves. Not exactly sure why."
"We have a similar custom on Vulcan," said T'Pol. "If the parent of a Vulcan child dies before that child reaches the day of reckoning....equivalent to a human rite of passage from childhood to young adult...then that child may take the name of that parent as their own. Sons take fathers names and daughters take mother's name. It occurs infrequently, but does happen on occasion."
"So it's a way to remember the parent," said Trip.
"Yes." she answered though she knew it was far more complicated and had to involve the child taking the parents katra and incorporating it into them. However, she saw know reason to expound on Vulcan mysticism to an outsider.
"Do you have any children?" he asked her.
"No, on Vulcan it is unseemly to bare children out of wedlock," she told him. "I imagine I will have children one day...once Sten and I resolve our difficulties."
"I'm sure you'll make a good mom," said Trip.
She looked at him and he smiled at her and then turned his attention to the parking lot. A black Mercedes pulled to the front entrance. A thin tall man in a well tailored suit stepped out.
"Come on," said Trip. "Let go fishing."
to be continued........
chapter 3 - - - - - - - - - - - - - 3:15 pm ......... - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Trip was driving up 46th avenue. The traffic was moving slowly and he was tempted to go with lights and sirens, but he knew it would send an alarm to the man he and T'Pol needed to see.
"Where are we going Sergeant?" asked T'Pol as she adjusted herself in the passenger seat.
"The Green Parrot," replied Tucker. "and stop callin me Sergeant. Everyone calls me 'Trip' or Tucker...Charles if ya gotta."
T'Pol considered his request a moment. She and the human had already developed a negative working relationship. She wished to mend it to facilitate a more productive partnership. "In an attempt to foster amicable relations between us I shall honor your request..." she considered calling him by his epithetical name, but decided on something less intimate. "Tucker"
He looked over at her and nodded with a smile. "Look...I'm sorry about this mornin'. I had no right poppin off at ya like that. I'm sorry if I offended you."
"You attribute an emotional response where there is none," she replied with a raised brow.
"Yeah...I know...you Vulcans don't have feelins," he said in a way that clearly indicated he didn't believe it. "All the same...I'm sorry. I guess I just don't like it when an outside agency sticks their nose in one of my cases."
T'Pol considered her words before she spoke. "Though I cannot relate specifically to your motivations...I can...appreciate your misgivings when it comes to outside forces becoming involved in one's work."
She looked over at him for a moment "On Vulcan, the end objective is what all are concerned about. Individual merit is of lesser importance. We have a tenant....'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few'."
"Or the one," he added.
"Or the one," she repeated in agreement. "And for your edification...Tucker...it is you who are...'sticking your nose' in my investigation. I have pursued Sonav in a dozen cities on five worlds. Earth is only the latest planet he has brought his...'talents'.
"His 'talents' have left 6 people dead in less than two weeks," Trip retorted.
"And he has left a considerably larger number of victims on the planets he has previously visited," she responded a little more quickly than she intended. "I do not wish to minimize the people he has murdered on your planet," She seemed to waver for a minute and Trip looked over at her. "I have pursued him for a very long time."
He remained quiet for a moment as he considered whether or not he should ask a question that lingered in his mind. "Can I ask you somthin personal?"
She regarded his request for a moment and responded. "Yes."
"Do you hold yourself responsible for the deaths on those other planets and now Earth?" he asked her.
"That would be an illogical mode of thought," she replied.
"Yeah...it would," he agreed. "Maybe you should remember that."
She looked over at him and saw that he was regarding her. After a few moments they turned away from each preferring silence to the sudden uncomfort they both seemed to feel.
T'Pol was the first to break the silence that hung between them. "What is this 'Green Parrot' we are going to?"
"A nite club owned and operated by one Jackson "Profile" Walters," explained Trip "Well known on the street as an information broker for criminals. We haven't been able to charge him with anything largely for lack of hard evidence linking him to any criminal activity."
"And this Jackson Walters may have some information that will assist us in tracking Sonav's movements within your city?" she speculated.
"'Profile' keeps an ear to the ground," said Trip but looking over at T'Pol he noticed her confusion. Smiling, he explained what he had meant. "He maintains a network of information suppliers. If anything is going on in the Miami/Dade area...'Profile' knows about it."
Trip pulled the car into a large, fairly empty parking lot. He kept driving until he came to the exit on the other side and pulled the car around coming to a stop at the edge of an alleyway that gave an advantageous view of the parking lot and the 'Green Parrot' nite club.
"Is this not the location we wish to question this 'Profile' individual at?" asked T'Pol.
"Yeah, but 'Profile ain't here yet," said Trip. "His car isn't in the parking lot."
"Then what course of action should we pursue?" she asked him.
"We wait," he said. "If we go in there while he's not there...his stooges'll alert him and he won't show at all. If we park in this alley...we can move in when he's inside the club."
T'Pol shook her head "Logical."
"Why thank you," said Trip bowing his head in mock civility.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - 6:49 pm............ - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"It has been a considerable amount of time and Mr. Walters has still not made his presence known," observed T'Pol.
"Yeah, well it's only seven," said Trip. "We need to give him some more time. If he doesn't show by ten we'll see about those other two leads, but this is our best option."
"Very well," she agreed.
He looked over at her. "You bored?" he asked.
"Vulcan's do not get 'bored'," she said simply.
"No?" he questioned. "Well humans get bored."
She looked at him curiously.
"Tell me something," he said innocuously.
Her brows furrowed. "About?"
"I don't know," he said. "Vulcan...your job...anything."
She considered his question for a moment and then proceeded to give a cursory lesson in Vulcan astronomy. "Vulcan is one of 6 planets orbiting a red super giant. It is a desert world with a..."
"I didn't mean I wanted an astronomy lesson." he said cutting her off. "I meant tell me about your people."
She considered what she wished to tell this human. He did seem genuinely interested; so she decided that a brief summery would be satisfactory. "My culture is many thousands of your Earth years old," she began. "Before the time of Surak...a great philosophical leader...we were a war like culture capable of great savagery and barbarity...even by human standards. But with the coming of Surak came logic and enlightenment. My people adopted a peaceful existence in which we learned to govern our emotions and not allow them to destroy us."
Trip looked at her. He had to admit, he would never have pegged the Vulcans to have ever been war like. He figured there were a lot of things he didn't know about them.
"But you still have criminals on Vulcan," he said. "Since your a cop."
"I am a member of the Vulcan Security Bureau," she corrected him. "but yes, logic does not assuage all tendencies towards criminality. It is a rare occurrence for a Vulcan to commit a crime and even rarer for one to commit a violent crime, but it does happen."
"So why did you become a cop?" he asked.
"I had an interest in the abhorrent motivations of our ancestors," she replied. "My field of study was psychology. It led me into the Vulcan Security Bureau."
"How long ya been a cop?" he asked her.
"Sixty Seven Years." she answered.
"Sixty Seven...?" he said not bothering to hold back any surprise. "How old ARE you?"
"I am ninety two of your Earth years old," she told him." Vulcans live approximately 2.5 times the lifespan of humans."
He looked at her and could swear she was getting some satisfaction at his surprise." I heard Vulcans lived longer than humans, but I didn't know it was that much longer."
For some reason she felt uncomfortable discussing her age with the human and decided to change the subject "And you? Why did you become a police officer?"
"Well, I guess it goes back to when I was a kid," he told her. "I grew up in this city. I was just a kid when Vulcans made first contact so we still had a lot of internal problems that come with a war torn, fragmented societies. I saw a lot of people get hurt ...or worse. People I knew and cared for. So...when I was old enough I joined the academy and came out a wide eyed rookie full of ideals about how I was gonna save the city.
"But you realized after time that your attempts were...futile at best, because you were saving people from themselves."
Trip looked at her. She had given him a second shock for the day. He didn't know what to say.
"You are surprised by my statement?"
He shook his head.
"There are many constants in the universe. The ideals of those that uphold laws and protect citizens, I have learned, is one of those constants," she told him. "Perhaps when your people leave the confines of your solar system they will see that."
"That's pretty odd talk for a Vulcan," he said. "All I ever hear from you people is how humans need to progress slower so we can prepare ourselves for cultures that we won't have anything in common with."
"Your people find mine a negative detriment to their willingness to press forward into the galaxy," she said. "My people have traveled in space for a very long time. Along the way we have made... mistakes. I believe the Vulcan High Command's efforts to slow Earth's progress is meant with the best of intentions."
"But you don't approve," he said.
She looked at the human for several moments as she considered her response. Turning to look away, she gave it. "No."
"Why not?"
"There was no technologically superior culture to guide Vulcan when it ventured into space," she told him. "We found our own way and eventually our place in the galaxy. I believe Earth should be afforded the same opportunity."
"Are you married," he asked her.
A puzzled look came over her features. It was an odd question to pose. " I- I am bonded to a mate."
Now it was Trip's turn to look puzzled.
"Vulcan's are married by arrangement," she explained "As children we are bonded to our intended mate until the time when we are prepared for marriage."
"So...your still bonded," he asked. "But your not married?"
T'Pol eyed him curiously. "Why are you asking me this?"
He just shook his head and shrugged, "I don't know. I guess I was curious."
She looked down for a moment. "No, I am not married yet." It sounded more like a confession
"The job," said Trip as he stared out the window.
Now it was T'Pol's turn to be surprised.
"I guess it's another one of those constants," he said. "I got an ex-wife who couldn't handle me being a cop. She divorced me and got custody of our son. They live up in the panhandle."
"You have a son?" she asked.
"Yeah," he beamed. "Spittin image of his daddy. He even has my name."
T'Pol looked at him quizzically.
"Charles Tucker II," said Trip. "That's his name. I'm Charles Tucker I. It's a human tradition some fathers follow of naming their sons after themselves. Not exactly sure why."
"We have a similar custom on Vulcan," said T'Pol. "If the parent of a Vulcan child dies before that child reaches the day of reckoning....equivalent to a human rite of passage from childhood to young adult...then that child may take the name of that parent as their own. Sons take fathers names and daughters take mother's name. It occurs infrequently, but does happen on occasion."
"So it's a way to remember the parent," said Trip.
"Yes." she answered though she knew it was far more complicated and had to involve the child taking the parents katra and incorporating it into them. However, she saw know reason to expound on Vulcan mysticism to an outsider.
"Do you have any children?" he asked her.
"No, on Vulcan it is unseemly to bare children out of wedlock," she told him. "I imagine I will have children one day...once Sten and I resolve our difficulties."
"I'm sure you'll make a good mom," said Trip.
She looked at him and he smiled at her and then turned his attention to the parking lot. A black Mercedes pulled to the front entrance. A thin tall man in a well tailored suit stepped out.
"Come on," said Trip. "Let go fishing."
to be continued........