Chapter 3: Breakfast and Dreams

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May 2, 2153

Captain Archer walked through the Mess Hall towards the Captain's mess, padd in hand, thumbing over Starfleet's latest briefings. Hoshi's going to have her hands full sorting through all the information Starfleet is throwing at us he mused. Things were definitely getting messy- Earth was in a state of political uncertainty, Terra Prime was increasing its activity and relations with the Vulcans were deteriorating due to their passive assistance. Xenophobia was running rampant and attacks on aliens had increased dramatically. Even if Enterprise managed to deal with this threat Earth would be picking up the pieces for quite some time. With an audible sigh he stepped in only to be greeted by the questioning eyes of his science officer. He almost laughed, she looks like a kid who's waiting for Christmas morning. Heck, if she wasn't Vulcan, Archer would have sworn she looked anxious.

He sat down in his usual seat, continuing to skim his report. Though he didn't tell anyone, he hated these reports more than anything else. There was no information, none at all! They had been able to decipher the name of the species from some writing on the probe as Xindi, but other than that they knew nothing. With the Vulcan's aid, they had been able to determine the region of space from where the probe originated and nothing else. While waiting for their meals, he spared a glance at T'Pol.

Though her seat was across from the Captain and didn't face the door, her eyes were still locked on it. Well it seems she certainly wasn't anxious for you Jon… Shaking his head, he continued with his report, sipping his coffee as he went along.

He was frankly surprised that she was even here. Without giving any real reason she had three days ago, only hours after departing Earth orbit, told him of her intentions to remain aboard the Enterprise. As thrilled as he was, he was also desperately curious. He knew she had had to resign her commission with the High Command, and, well, it seemed illogical.

Before he could continue any further, Crewman Cunningham came in and deposited their dishes. Captain Archer immediately took to constructing his muffin-egg sandwich, taking a bizarre amount of pleasure in doing so. It seemed that it was the only thing he had complete control over even if it were only for a few minutes a day.

"Will the Commander not be joining us today?" T'Pol asked, looking down at her Plomeek broth as if she had no idea how it had gotten there.

He had only managed to make it to step three in his construction efforts today before the question came. Stopping midway with his ketchup handiwork, he looked up at T'Pol slightly annoyed. Certainly a member of a species that espoused the values of logic would understand that the absence of a third setting would imply the Commander would most certainly not be joining them today.

"He left me a message this morning that he was working on some schematics for some modifications to allow us to operate at high warp for such a long time."

"The Commander always dined with us before and he must eat before his shift…" T'Pol began only to be interrupted with an inopportune squirsh.

She looked at the Captain only to see him scowling at the rather large ketchup blotch on his eggs. He seemed to use an excessive amount of pressure with the ketchup bottle whenever something was troubling him.

Pausing midway in picking up her spoon T'Pol changed her sentence, "Is something the matter Captain?"

Setting the abused ketchup aside, he turned his gaze to her, "T'Pol, you've asked about Trip all three days since we left Earth. I think I should be the one asking you."

Knowing her questioning was going to draw attention eventually, she decided honesty was the best answer. "I find the change in the Commander since we left Earth…disconcerting."

Captain Archer's annoyance melted into bemusement and shock. Just when I thought I was beginning to understand her too… he thought. It had to be one of the great mysteries of the universe. For a people who supposedly led a life of logic they had an uncanny ability of being unpredictable. Or perhaps T'Pol was just a special exception. She certainly is special…he began. Damnit Jon, she's your Vulcan first officer, get a grip.

Mentally chiding himself, he turned his attention to T'Pol. "He and Lizzie were really close. Because of their ages, Lizzie ended up spending the most time with him. He probably just needs some time alone to deal with it all, that's all," he said, knowing full well it wasn't as simple as he made it sound. But he wasn't in any position to push Trip; the Vissian incident had spawned wounds that were raw even weeks after.

"Curious, in the time I have spent serving on Enterprise, I had come to expect the Commander would wish to not be alone after suffering such a loss."

Captain Archer couldn't help the shock from showing on his face. "Well," he began trying to regain his composure, "Humans need both. Trip, having already spent time with his family on Earth just needs sometime for himself now. Seeing his parents was what Trip really needed. I'm glad we were able to stop at Earth for a few days before beginning this mission, the crew really needed it," he finished as his eyes drifted towards the viewport and his thoughts moved to the mission.

Crew morale hadn't fallen has he had expected. His crew had once again surpassed his every expectation. Most had come to think of the nearly seven-week voyage to the expanse as a break before the real mission began. Though only too aware of the attack and the importance of the mission, for many it had not begun yet and they were enjoying their last days of freedom. Captain Archer was in this boat, knowing that once the mission really began, nothing would ever be the same. For Trip however, he knew the mission had begun the minute they had left Earth. Being the only crewmember that lost someone close in the attack, the mission wasn't just a mission- it was personal. He had seen it in his eyes the other night when they had talked over a few drinks. On the same token, Trip had become a sort of morale officer in the past three days, sitting with various crewmembers at lunch and attempting to offer any comfort he could. Archer saw that as a good sign- the Trip he knew was still there and strong as ever.

T'Pol on the other hand seemed to be the only one who knew that the Commander had not actually seen his family. She had not asked him about it, realizing it was something intensely personal. In fact, she had hardly talked to the Commander since returning to the Enterprise four days ago. She didn't share the Captain's opinion; she was concerned that the Commander was spiraling into depression, albeit out of the crew's eyes.

"Lieutenant Hess informed me that she was concerned for the Commander. She said he seemed distracted during his shifts and seems tired most of the time."

"I can only imagine T'Pol, I've been having a hard time sleeping myself. I can't even imagine what it must be like for Trip," sadness touching his voice. Looking up at T'Pol, he knew that the raised eyebrow was a sign for further explanation. With a sigh, he began.

"This mission is giving me and most likely a good number of the crew a hard time going to bed. We don't know who we're dealing with, what we're dealing with, or even if we're headed in the right direction. Well, I mean we're pretty sure that they're called the Xindi and seem to have it in for Earth," he babbled with a sigh. "Don't Vulcans have bad dreams?" He regretted the question the minute it was out of his mouth.

"Vulcans don't dream Captain."

"Right. Frankly, I don't know what to do for Trip. I tried talking to him a few days ago, but he didn't seem to want to. Chef has told me that he thinks Trip isn't even eating enough. There was Pecan pie last night and he didn't even take a piece! Though I can't blame him completely for that one, as good as Chef is it doesn't hold a light to Mrs. Tucker's cooking."

T'Pol's curiosity was getting the better of her. It was the second reference to the Commander's parents and perhaps by asking the Captain she would be able to figure out why she had found the Commander alone at the Florida Memorial. "I assume you know the Commander's parents well?"

The Captain, above the shock at the small-talk T'Pol was engaging in, warmed up to one of his favorite topics. "Ah, the Tuckers. Now there's a pair of humans every Vulcan should meet… they could give logic a run for its money," he said chuckling. "Trip's parents are great people, on the quieter side, but always there. To them nothing is more important than Trip and his siblings. Trip's older brother and sister were considerably older; it's the reason why Lizzie and Trip were so close, going to school together and all. But you should see them all together, it's quite a sight. Perhaps the most chaotic but fun bunch to be around." As he said the words a sudden ache crawled into his chest, remembering all the times he himself had been invited to the Tucker's home, especially after his father's death, seeing them interact, seeing Trip mockingly torment Lizzie. How the Tucker clan would now always be missing such a crucial member and how the happiness that had supported him throughout the past ten years was now replaced with pain.

Seeing the distress in the Captain's demeanor, T'Pol quickly said, "I apologize Captain, it was not my intention to cause you any discomfort."

"No, no T'Pol. It's alright. Perhaps I needed to say everything I did too. But now I'm curious, why the interest?"

T'Pol thought about that. Why indeed? "As first officer, crew performance is part of my duties. The Commander has yet to receive a complaint and Lieutenant Hess's concern warranted an investigation. Perhaps understanding the Commander would aid in my abilities to solve the situation. The Commander must maintain his health, he is, after all, vital to this mission."

The Captain, realizing it was T'Pol's extremely long version of saying "I'm concerned" decided to respond with a simple, "Got any ideas?"

"Possibly, I will discuss them with the Commander," she said with a clipped authority that told Archer the topic was closed. Any further questions would lead to one very annoyed science officer- annoyance seeming to be the only emotion that the Captain could discern from the normally stoic Vulcan.

As T'Pol began to drink her broth, the Captain looked down at his morning masterpiece. The mess of toast, bacon, eggs and ketchup was far from what he had set out to make. As he continued to look at it, the mess seemed to stare at him and say "Watcha lookin' at us for?" Damn, even my sandwich doesn't turn out the way I'd like he thought with a hint of disgust. With an exhausted sigh he placed the second piece of toast on the mess and took a bite. It was his first bite of the day and he was already exhausted, the mental toll of the mission constantly weighing upon him.

As both continued to eat, a comfortable yet tense silence settled upon the room, both acutely aware of the missing occupant, and consequently, the missing smirks, comments and humor. As Archer ate through the silence, he realized it was also a testament to Trip's amazing ability to befriend the Vulcan- it seemed he was the only one able to carry the most important conversations with T'Pol, the conversations that were in words about nothing but to the two individuals meant everything.


Trip rolled over in his bed, sparing a glance at his clock. He knew normally at this time he would be having breakfast with the Captain and T'Pol, but he just didn't feel like it. He knew he should eat, but he knew he wouldn't be able too. And besides, staying in allowed him to indulge and relish in the dream he had woken up from, a dream that had left his face tear-stained, his pillow damp and his spirit exhausted, but a dream he cherished because it was real. It was a moment, a memory that could only be made real in his dreams where his imagination forgot for a few hours the line between fantasy and reality.

Pulling the sheets up to his chin and lying on his back, Trip took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Before he knew it, the dream was back, playing back for him one last time.

Trip was a thirteen-year-old boy, dressed in shorts, his favorite blue shirt and sandals screaming "Lizzie!" as she ran ahead of him through the grass, swatting the offending blades out of her way, screaming as she fled from her brother. They were returning home from having watched a movie at the local theater and were running off some excess energy. It was a perfect evening, the sun low in the sky, a pleasant breeze that cooled you off enough to curse its occasional absence.

For such a little girl, she packed some speed but Trip knew how to get her attention. "Hey Lizzie! I'll getcha a snow-cone…" he said in his most enticing voice.

It stopped her right in her tracks. After thinking about it for a moment, considering and weighing all her options, she tested the waters with a simple, "Cherry?"

"You betcha, now common!" as Trip dashed over to the vendor and ordered two snow cones, handing one to Lizzie and taking one for himself.

As they set off for home, both settled into a comfortable silence only interrupted by the occasional slurp. As they got closer to home, the first stars begun to shine and Trip looked up and took a breath in amazement as he did every time when he gazed upon the night sky.

"Watcha lookin' at Trip?" asked Lizzie breaking Trip out of his thoughts.

"The stars, one day, I'm gonna visit each and every one of them!"

"You going to be a captain or something?"

"You bethca!"

She laughed a small mocking laugh. "Like they'd ever let you near a ship! You can't even eat your snow cone right!" And sure enough, as she said the words some power with a twisted sense of humor decided that part of his snow cone needed relocation and, with a bit of invisible prodding, a blob of ice slipped and fell with a plop on his shirt and began a red, watery journey downward.

"Why you little!" and before the words were even out of his mouth he was chasing after her again, following her amused shriek more than anything else.

It wasn't soon after that both were exhausted and simply laughing and walking side by side, half their treats splashed over their clothes, their faces more red than anything else but smiling faces none the less. It was simply the perfect day and as Trip spared a glance at his baby sister, a feeling of warmth and fierce protection surged through him.

Trip opened his eyes and turned to his side, causing the fresh new tears to spill down his cheeks and over his mouth. If only he could grab her from that moment and hold her forever, protect her from everything and anything. Even through his tears a small smile tugged at his lips. There was nothing special about the memory, but it was sweet and something he cherished with all the love he had. As he tasted the saltiness of his tears, all he knew was the sweet cherry on his tongue and the sound of laughter echoing through his quarters. If skipping breakfast allowed him a few more moments with his memories, he'd trade his pancakes for that cherry snow cone any day. He closed his eyes, exhausted from the lack of sleep that he was, and for the time the universe allowed found himself back on that summery evening when he hadn't had a care in the world.