Chapter Eight
Entering the Mess Hall early the next morning, T'Pol spied Commander Tucker sitting alone at a table in the far corner. Not a lot of the crew were up as it was still quite early. He didn't seem to be eating much off his plate and he looked pre-occupied, occasionally rubbing the side of his head as if he was in pain.
"May I join you, Commander?" she asked as she stood next to his table holding a tray.
"Sure, I'd like the company," smiled Trip, standing up to hold her chair out for her.
Nodding thanks for his gallantry, she sat down.
After a few minutes of watching him mull over the contents of a PADD, she decided to find out what was bothering him. "Is there something wrong, Commander?"
"No, why do ya ask, T'Pol?"
"You don't seem to be touching your breakfast and you seem unusually quiet," she stated, with a hint of concern in her voice.
"Quiet?" smiled Trip. "Are you insinuating I talk too much?"
"No, I have just gotten used to you making small talk during meals."
"Small talk ehh?" chuckled Trip. "I have a bit of a headache, that's all," he said, pushing his plate to one side.
"Would you like me to escort you to sickbay?"
"Phlox has already given me a hypo. I'm just waiting for it to kick in."
"Why don't we go to my quarters after breakfast, perhaps a neuro pressure session would help?"
"Thanks, T'Pol, I'd like that," smiled Trip. "I'll even make small talk for ya, as well."
"I'd like that also, Commander," replied T'Pol dryly, causing Trip to chuckle and shake his head.
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Twenty minutes later, Trip was kneeling on the floor of her quarters as T'Pol applied pressure to the neuro pressure points on his neck. "Breath deeply …that's right, excellent Commander."
"So, T'Pol, what's on ya mind?" asked Trip.
"Nothing. Why do you ask?"
"Well you've never been interested in hearing my small talk before," he smiled.
"I was concerned about you, Commander-"
"Concerned, T'Pol? That's not very Vulcan." teased Trip.
"Looking after the crew's welfare falls within my duty as Captain Archer's first officer," T'Pol replied, dryly. "I am just performing my job."
Trip just grinned. He knew a snow job when he heard one, and that excuse was certainly a snow job. It warmed his heart to know that she actually cared enough to make excuses in order to find out what was bothering him.
"I'm not sure you'd be able to understand, T'Pol," he sighed. "I wouldn't have thought it's the kind of thing that Vulcans deal with often."
"You might be surprised what I understand in regard to your species," she said softly. T'Pol could see that Trip was wavering on the verge of telling her his problem, so she decided to push ahead further. "Does it have anything to do with the research on Clarks Syndrome you were reading on your PADD in the Mess Hall, Commander?"
Trip looked at her in shock.
"I apologize if I intruded on something personal," said T'Pol, realizing that she had hit the mark on target. "I inadvertently glanced at the content as I sat down."
"I'm not mad at ya," replied Trip, looking down at the floor.
"Were you conducting research on-"
"Myself, T'Pol," interrupted Trip, as he looked up into her deep brown eyes and saw concern and shock mirrored back. "It's in its early stages at the moment - constant headaches, slight trembling in my hands. Phlox is giving me daily shots to keep the symptoms at bay. I … I just wanted to know what to expect …" There was silence in the room as no one spoke or moved for what seemed like ages, but in retrospect was probably only a few minutes. "Told ya you wouldn't really understand," said Trip sadly, averting his eyes from her still form.
"I understand more than you know, Trip," said T'Pol softly.
Not sure what she meant entirely, Trip turned back to look at T'Pol with a puzzled expression.
"There is a similar disease back on my world called Panar Syndrome, which causes degeneration of the neural pathways of which there is no cure," she stated softly. "As with Clark's Syndrome, we can help keep the symptoms at bay with medication, but unlike humans, Vulcan's are averse to developing a cure."
"Why?"
"The disease is regarded as a stigma, due to the intimate nature of sharing ones mind. I have this disease, Trip. Like yourself, my life span is expected to be far less than an average Vulcan."
"Does anyone else know?" asked Trip, mirroring back concern in his eyes and voice for her.
"Besides Captain Archer, no."
"How long have you known about this?" asked Trip?
"Just over two years," replied T'Pol, to Trip's startled expression. "Thanks to a sympathetic acquaintance who is secretly helping to further research into the disease, Phlox is able to keep the symptoms at bay with little side effects."
"How did you get it?"
"Do you remember the Vos Kature, the ship of Vulcans we encountered about three years ago?"
"Where I first met Kov?" stated Trip.
"Yes. There was a Vulcan called Tolaris with whom I became acquainted. Although I initially consented to a mind meld, he became forceful when I was reluctant to proceed after a few minutes.
"That bastard!" exclaimed Trip, all thoughts of his own misfortune forgotten as anger seethed up inside him at the thought of T'Pol being mind raped. T'Pol threw him her usual look of exasperation at his emotional outburst,with her raised eyebrows that enabled him to rein his emotions back in.
"How do you--" said Trip, throwing his hands up into the air, unsure of how to state the unfairness of it all.
"I take one day at a time," replied T'Pol. "It is illogical to fret over what may or not happen. Medical science is advancing daily, it is only logical to conclude that a cure will eventually be found."
"What if it's too late to help you?" exclaimed Trip. "You said yourself, there is little emphasis being placed on developing a cure due to how it's viewed."
"It would be unfortunate, but at least no one else would suffer my misfortune."
"It's not that easy, T'Pol. I can't--"
"I believe you have the strength within yourself to handle what is to come."
"I don't know. I don't seem to be doing too good at the moment except wallow in self pity."
"You just lack the understanding on how to suppress the more negative emotions. If you like, I will show you some meditation techniques that will help you to focus more," said T'Pol, leaning over to retrieve his PADD that he had thrown to one side on entering her quarters. "In the meantime, why don't we continue your research together and then we'll begin our session after some dinner."
Trip smiled at the gesture. "If I didn't know any better I'd think you were just trying to rein in my wild side," he teased as he reached across for the PADD.
T'Pol gave him a look to indicate that the thought had definitely crossed her mind, causing him to roll his eyes and chuckle again.
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