—Chapter 04—
T'Pol had spent the entire day with T'Les, first puttering about the house in the morning hours, then shopping at an eclectic indoor mall which dealt solely in hand made goods during the midday period, and then finally, mother and daughter chose to go for a bite to eat at a local restaurant once the sun had dipped below the horizon. T'Les had raved of this place repeatedly, and rightly so, T'Pol decided as they dined on the patio, but her heart was not truly on the food. From her seat T'Pol could see the bright star of the Sol system directly ahead of them, at a 45 degree elevation, and it drew her eye relentlessly, as T'Pol contemplated her future, for her decision to go after what she truly wanted had been instinctually made shortly after she'd regained consciousness.
"You are leaving again," said T'Les, looking speculatively at T'Pol.
T'Pol sighed, and said, "I hope we will not argue over my decision tonight, mother. We have had a pleasant day together."
"I am tired of arguing, T'Pol," said T'Les. "I do it only because I want what is best for you."
"I know, mother."
"Will you at least tell me why, T'Pol?"
"It is my destiny," said T'Pol, with a hint of a smile.
"Vulcans don't believe in destiny, T'Pol," said T'Les, certain that T'Pol was being deliberately provocative. "You know that."
"I know," said T'Pol, "but I must go anyway. I have called Admiral Ryan's office for an appointment tomorrow morning. I mean to offer my services to StarFleet."
"There is much of your father in you," said T'Les. "If he were in your place he might do the same, whereas I would never even consider it."
Though T'Pol said nothing in response, the thought that something of her father lived inside her pleased T'Pol, for she'd missed him deeply since the very day he had disappeared in the line of duty.
The next morning, T'Pol showed up at Earth's Embassy once more and found Admiral Ryan's secretary, Ms. Kojima, waiting for her at the front desk, in order to guide T'Pol back to the admiral's office.
"Allow me to express my gratitude to you, Ms. Kojima," said T'Pol. "I understand that I have you to thank for the endless series of beautiful flower arrangements which graced my hospital room for three years."
Ms. Kojima gave a slight bow of her head as they walked, and she smiled, then said, "It was my pleasure, T'Pol. Unfortunately my skills are lacking, but you should have seen my sensei's work."
"I would like to see that someday, Ms. Kojima," said T'Pol. "But I have seen all of you work, and I find it lovely, as did my mother, T'Les, who took photographs of every display, in order to shamelessly duplicate them, I'm sure. Your work is restrained, minimalist, elegant… The flowers were alien, but the design elements were similar to our own Vulcan design ethos."
Ms. Kojima bowed her head once again, and smiled, and said, "Thank you, T'Pol."
They reached the admiral's office and Ms. Kojima walked through the door first, then stepped aside, holding the door open for T'Pol.
"Morning, T'Pol," said Ryan from behind his desk. "Tea?"
"No, thank you, Admiral," said T'Pol, and Ms. Kojima left the room, pulling the door shut behind her.
"What can I do for you this fine morning, T'Pol?"
"I have come to state my intention to join StarFleet, Admiral," said T'Pol.
Ryan smiled, and said, "That's great, T'Pol! I can't tell you how much that pleases me!"
"Unfortunately, I have a small request to make, before I can agree to join StarFleet, Admiral. I apologize for being so presumptuous."
"Tell me about your request," said Ryan, determined not to fumble this chance to snag T'Pol for StarFleet.
"I wish to serve under Captain Tucker's command, sir," said T'Pol. "He was generous with his time, and worked hard to help me integrate into the Enterprise. I hope he can help me make the same adjustment into the fleet, after a three year absence."
"Done, T'Pol," said Ryan. "Let me contact StarFleet's HQ and put the wheels in motion. I'll contact you soon, T'Pol."
"So you do not anticipate any problems due to my request, Admiral?" said T'Pol.
"None at all," said Ryan. "We want you in the fleet, T'Pol. You know the way to the roof, and Anton is just dying for an excuse to fly."
"I am afraid that I must disappoint Anton this day, Admiral," said T'Pol. "My mother waits for me in the lobby, and we are headed for the Metropolitan Museum, just a block or so away from the embassy."
"Have fun," said Ryan, "and give your mother my respects."
It had taken a few days for Ryan to set things up, then another week's worth of travel, and now, ten days later, T'Pol found herself orbiting Earth in the Vulcan passenger liner, V'Laksa. Admiral Ryan had booked a 1st class cabin for T'Pol on the ship, quite close to Soval's own cabin, for the ambassador was also returning to Earth to resume his duties at the newly reopened Vulcan Embassy to Earth, and the two had spent a pleasant week in conversation, for although the ambassador was disappointed with T'Pol's choices, it was clear that she had chosen her course. The two went their separate ways when it came time to disembark, for the ambassador would be formally greeted by Earth's Ambassador on arrival, and T'Pol had no taste for diplomatic protocol. Accordingly, she said her farewells to Soval in private and took a later shuttle flight down in order to avoid the hoopla, only to be greeted, as she entered the spaceport by Admiral Archer, looking quite handsome in his all white admiral's uniform.
"It's great to see you, T'Pol," said Archer with a smile.
It was a sad smile, and it was a tired smile, but it was still a genuine smile, and it was one of the few she'd seen in Humans since waking from her coma. Despite the people around them, Archer hugged T'Pol briefly but tightly, and in that touch T'Pol felt with her Empath's receptivity Admiral Archer's genuine affection for her, and his joy at her recovery. She was touched by the sincerity of the man's emotions. They'd come a long way since their first meeting.
"I'm sorry, T'Pol," said Archer, remembering himself now. "I'm a monster. I shouldn't have done that. Vulcan custom. A matter of decency. Quite improper, and all that. I'm just so damned happy to see you again!"
"You are forgiven, Admiral. It is good to see you as well," said T'Pol. "I am surprised to see an admiral here. This is a Lieutenant's job, if that. I had expected to make my own way out of here."
"Nonsense, T'Pol," said Archer, reaching for T'Pol's bag, and though the Vulcan was physically stronger than Archer, she understood the courtesy, and nodded her thanks to the admiral. "HQ meant to send a car and a lieutenant, but I told them I had dibs. I was your commanding officer once, and you were one of my very best, T'Pol."
"You should stop praising me now, Admiral," said T'Pol, "or my swelling head will snap my delicate neck."
"Duly noted, T'Pol," said Archer, inwardly amused at T'Pol's weak joke. "Come on. Let's get out of here."
Ten minutes later they pulled out of the spaceport's parking lot, and another fifteen minutes later they were blowing down the freeway in Archer's classic 2090 year model 911 Porsche, and T'Pol found the speed and the engine noise quite agreeable.
"This car handles like a dream, Admiral, and I love the throaty rasp of the engine," said T'Pol.
"Everything's electric these days, but I pay a premium just to keep this beauty on the road. Now, let's get a bite to eat here," said Jon. "The owner is a friend of mine, and he promised to take good care of you."
Minutes later Archer and T'Pol found themselves seated in a comfy booth, looking across the table from each other, when the owner, Jon's friend came by the table, and smiled at them both.
"T'Pol, this is my friend, Eduardo," said Jon. "Eduardo, this is T'Pol."
"Who doesn't know T'Pol?" said Eduardo to Archer, then he looked at T'Pol, and said, "It's a pleasure to have you here, T'Pol."
"Thank you," said T'Pol, taking note of the man's sad face and good nature.
"What are you in the mood for, T'Pol?" said Eduardo. "I'll make you anything."
"I can not say," said T'Pol. "I am unfamiliar with your cuisine. Perhaps you could surprise me?"
"I'm certain that I could," said Eduardo. "Leave it to me."
T'Pol started to speak, and Eduardo said, "No meat products. Jon already told me."
T'Pol nodded, and Eduardo turned to Archer.
"The usual, Jon?"
"Yes please, Eduardo."
Eduardo nodded, and left the table. Jon looked at T'Pol and smiled.
"Your friend Eduardo seems like a very nice man," said T'Pol.
"He is," said Jon. "He lost his wife and daughter in the first Madness Season, but his son David lived through it, thankfully. The three of us go out on my sailboat quite often when I'm on Earth, and Trip joins us if I can tear him away from the Engine Room. Eduardo likes deep sea fishing, and I'm teaching David how to sail a boat."
"How big of a sailboat?" said T'Pol.
"Forty-eight feet."
"So, you have a classic sports car, a sailboat, and brownstone in an exclusive neighborhood if Captain Tucker is telling the truth, Admiral. How do you do it?"
"I'm single, T'Pol. That, and the fact that my good friend Trip is a hell of an engineer, so when I come across a good buy, I snatch it up, Trip fixes it to a better than new condition, and we make out like bandits when we resell the item, though we keep what we buy more than half the time. Or I should say, we used to do this, before the Enterprise took us off planet for the majority of our time."
"Still, you two are quite the enterprising little beavers," said T'Pol. "I was not aware that Captain Tucker's mechanical skills and engineering knowledge were so useful outside the context of a starship."
"Oh, yeah," said Jon. "He can repair or restore anything. He rebuilt my car in two months. It took him eight months to restore my sailboat after I bought it, working weekends and the odd day here and there, and as thanks I bought him a forty-two foot power cruiser in need of some serious attention. He worked on it for two years, but it was a labor of love, and in its present condition it's worth ten times what I paid for it, though he'd never sell it."
"So Captain Tucker likes boats as well?"
"He loves them, T'Pol," said Jon, "though being an engineer he favors power boats. It's sad, but I understand this flaw in his personality in light of his career choices. Next time you two have leave on Earth, ask him to take you on a cruise to his special place. He lights up when he's out on a boat, even now."
"Special place, Admiral?" said T'Pol, intrigued, for in all the time she'd known Captain Tucker, the man had never mentioned having a special place.
"I won't ruin the surprise. Just ask him to take you there one day."
"I will," said T'Pol, hoping now for the pleasure of sharing such an interesting interlude with Captain Tucker.
The waitress approached the table and deposited two tall margaritas, a large basket of chips, three types of salsa, and a bowl of guacamole. T'Pol tasted the margarita, found the taste agreeable, and raised brow at Archer.
"Yes, it has alcohol," said Archer, "but it's a special occasion, T'Pol. It won't kill you."
"You misunderstand, Admiral," said T'Pol. "I like it."
"Good," said Archer, then drew T'Pol attention to their food. "Now, that's red salsa, that's green salsa, and that's a tomatillo salsa, which is green, but tastes different than the green salsa. The last bowl there is guacamole. Let's dig in. "
T'Pol followed Archer's instructions and found the wide variety of tastes, textures and spices quite delicious, and when they'd polished off their starters, the waitress brought them each a small bowl of pumpkin soup, scented with cumin, and spiced by red chillies. T'Pol could have stopped right there, but Eduardo soon after came to the table and laid their entrees before them.
"Beef fajitas, refried beans, Spanish rice, pico de gallo and fresh tortillas for the Admiral," said Eduardo, "and a chimichanga for T'Pol."
T'Pol was stunned. This chimichanga easily stood four inches high, and its circumference was impressive as well.
"What is this?" said T'Pol. "What am I looking at?"
"My first vegetarian chimichanga, for my first Vulcan guest," said Eduardo. "Spanish rice, cheese, black beans, corn, strips of grilled poblano pepper and portabella mushroom strips, mixed with my green enchilada sauce, all laid atop a big tortilla and then rolled into a giant burrito, which I then deep fried in peanut oil until golden and crispy. Topped with sour cream and pico de gallo, and served on a bed of shredded lettuce."
"It looks wonderful, Eduardo," said T'Pol, "but there is no way I can consume it all."
"No matter," said Eduardo. "Enjoy, T'Pol."
Both Archer and T'Pol thanked Eduardo, and then the waitress, for she'd brought them another round of margaritas, and without wasting a moment longer, Jon and T'Pol tucked into their food.
"The admirals are reluctant to grant your request and bring you and Trip together," said Archer after five minutes of solid eating, "so they'll try to talk you out of it, but they'll cave in, if you stick to your guns, T'Pol. They won't risk losing you."
"May I ask the reason for their reluctance?" said T'Pol, after gulping down a tasty bite of her chimichanga.
"They're just watching out for you, T'Pol, and they want to keep you out of trouble."
"What kind of trouble, Admiral?"
"What I'm about to tell you now is confidential," said Archer.
T'Pol nodded her agreement, and said, "I understand."
"Ok, so— wait, do you know that after our return from the Delphic Expanse Trip and Malcolm were promoted, and given command of their own ships?"
"I had heard of Commander Tucker's promotion to captain from Ambassador Soval," said T'Pol, "and surmised that it was highly probable that Lt. Reed had also been promoted to captain, due to his combat experience from the Delphic Expanse, and the circumstances which embroil StarFleet at the moment."
"Well you guessed correctly, T'Pol," said Archer. "He took command of the Invincible, one of our newer frigate designs, a DXT type. Two-thirds the size of the NX class, but they're fast, tough, hard hitting and with great endurance, what with all the technical improvements."
"I have seen the specs of your new ship types, Admiral," said T'Pol, "and I find the triangular arrangement of the three nacelles in your new DXT frigates aesthetically pleasing, as well as efficient. I am quite certain that Captain Reed is pleased with his new command."
"I've forgotten how thorough you are, T'Pol," said Archer. "Of course you know the specs of our new ships. Anyway, Malcolm got the Invincible, while Trip took command of the Columbia."
"What of Captain Hernandez?" said T'Pol softly, looking at Archer with concern, for he and Captain Hernandez had been quite close. "She commanded the Columbia."
"She succumbed to the madness during the first season, T'Pol," said Jon, then sighed heavily. "She climbed onto the ledge outside her hospital room one night, and then shortly afterwards jumped to her death."
"My condolences, Admiral," said T'Pol, and Jon shook his head, visibly miserable.
After a time, Archer began speaking again.
"Anyway, the Columbia is one of the old class of NX cruisers, but you know Trip. He's tireless and he's a perfectionist, and even more so, he understands the new tech better than almost every other engineer in StarFleet. He begged, borrowed and stole what he needed, and upgraded Columbia in record time, turned her into a beast. I love my Enterprise, T'Pol, but I'd put money on the Columbia in a fight, because none of my engineers can match him."
T'Pol nodded. The things which the Admiral had described fit Captain Tucker perfectly, and it was also quite likely that the man was burying his feeling with work, so T'Pol was not surprised that the Columbia should now be the fittest ship in the fleet.
"And so, Admiral?"
"And so, T'Pol," said Archer, "I'll tell you now that our two fine captains, Tucker and Reed, are in deep shit along with a respectable number of other StarFleet captains."
"Deep shit, you say, Admiral," said T'Pol. "How so?"
"As soon as the Madness Season struck and the Xindi Reptilians and Insectoids began taunting us, scouts were dispatched in all vectors, Human, Vulcan, Xindi and Andorian, all in an effort to find trace of the Reptilians and Insectoids."
"Andorian?" said T'Pol, uncertain that she'd heard correctly.
"Yes," said Archer, "the Andorians have been very supportive of us during this time. They've joined our patrols and scouting missions, shared their star maps which filled in a lot of blanks and saved us a lot of time, and promised their assistance do deal with the Xindi Reptilians and Insectoids, if we need additional firepower."
"I see," said T'Pol, surprised that the Andorians and Humans had formed such quick ties. "So have you found sign of the Xindi Reptilians and Insectoids yet?"
"We have," said Archer, "though it was hard going at first. I mean, how do you effectively search infinity?"
"You are being dramatic, Admiral," said T'Pol. "Certainly the Xindi subspace vortex drives give their ships great range, but there are still limits to their movements, and those limits can be calculated. And you have these drives as well now, which means your scouts can cover more territory."
"Ok, you've got me," said Archer, "but we're still talking a vast amount of space to sift through for leads, T'Pol."
Lips moving slightly, T'Pol did the math in her head, and privately agreed with the Admiral. The prospects of finding the Xindi in that vast area was truly daunting.
"And yet you say that StarFleet has managed to find the Xindi, despite the odds," said T'Pol. "How?"
"We recently started making use of the psions among us, in our hunt for the Xindi," said Archer.
"Elaborate, Admiral."
"The seers among us, what you Vulcans call clairsentients, were the first step. The seers name started off as a joke by the way, but the name stuck. Anyway, the seers focused on the current location of the Xindi Reptilian and Insectoid homeworld, and described the system in which these Xindi had made their home, and described it in great detail. Thousands of seers, all isolated from each other, all nevertheless in agreement as to the system we are looking for, and the general direction. When I saw the numerous drawings, or listened to the many voices, all describing the same system, I felt chilled to my core, because I had seen the same exact system in my mind, when I sought out the Xindi."
"You are clairsentient?" said T'Pol, surprised.
"Yes," said Archer.
"Functional?" said T'Pol.
"What?"
"Can you use the talent at will with one-hundred percent reliability?"
"Oh," said Archer. "No, not functional, by that measure. I can usually gain relevant answers to my question, but not every single time. Say, nine out of ten times. Ninety percent."
"Fascinating," said T'Pol. "Perhaps you can give me a demonstration later, Admiral. But now back to the Xindi. So, you had countless descriptions of the system which the Xindi had made their new home."
"Yes," said Archer. "Trouble is that we haven't been able to locate that particular system in any of our star charts yet."
"Logic dictates that the Reptilians and Insectoids chose to put a great deal of distance between themselves and a furious humanity seeking vengeance," said T'Pol.
"Right," said Archer, "and although we couldn't give a precise X-Y-Z coordinate set, we pointed StarFleet in the right direction. So we scrambled as many ships as we could spare in that direction, to hunt the Xindi down. Some one hundred and fifty ships were led by Admiral Zhan in search of the new Reptilian and Insectoid homeworld, and they were joined by thirty-seven Andorian ships, allied to us, and led by Shran. They were not under our authority, but they worked well and willingly with our ships, so we considered ourselves fortunate to receive their assistance."
"How did you come by so many ships, in such a short time, Admiral?" said T'Pol. "StarFleet was quite modest in size, last I remember, yet when I brought myself up to speed after waking from my coma, I saw that the fleet numbered some five hundred ships."
"It was due to the Xindi probe attack which killed millions, T'Pol," said Archer. "We were in the Expanse at the time, but the threat of another attack, was on everyone's mind. The entire planet put everything aside, and focused its resources on building a fleet strong enough to repel any other attacks by the Xindi. Raw materials were diverted from the consumer economy to provide the essentials of building a fleet, a good number of manufacturing plants were retooled to provide the assortment of parts needed, and our automated factories did the rest, and it helped a great deal that Tellar provided us with additional raw materials, that Vulcan provided us with additional engineers and machinists, while Andorian ships supplemented our initially meager fleet, and provided military protection of our system, and it pleased us to be able to share the technological advancements which the Enterprise brought back from the Expanse with our allies, as at least a partial payment for the help given."
"So you go from a small fleet of a hundred ships, most of which were suited only for relatively short journeys in-system, to a fleet five times that size, a fleet capable of deep space travel," said T'Pol. "Impressive."
"Not all five hundred are combat ships, T'Pol," said Archer. "About a hundred are a mix of supply freighters, troop carriers, hospital ships for handling battle casualties, repair ships, etc… We've got three Erran Border Fleet, until just recently commanded by Admiral Zhan, which is named for the furthest star we could find on any star chart in the general direction of the Xindi Reptilian and Insectoid base. This is the fleet that's searching for the Reptilians and Insectoids, and it's the fleet to which our two friends are assigned. The Nomad Fleet, is commanded by Admiral Tomas, which guards our freight lines, tamps down on piracy, and does freelance scouting in their spare time. Finally, there's the Home Fleet, commanded by yours truly, which guards the Sol system."
"How is that going?" said T'Pol. "Have the Reptilians and Insectoids ships made any further attacks on the system? Have they tried to introduce new bio-weapons into the system?"
"Thankfully, no," said Archer. "That's largely due to the telepaths among us."
"Oh?"
"Yeah," said Archer. "As I understand it, the mental signatures of different species have a different feel to them, or different taste, or whatever, but a telepath can tell one mind from another, and one species from another."
T'Pol nodded. The Humans, so newly come to psionic talent, were interpreting everything as a physical sensation, thus the noting of differences in various species as feel by one telepath, as taste by another, etc… but they were essentially right. Minds had individual signatures, and these individual signatures fit within the larger signature of their species as a whole. Vulcan psions could easily tell one species from another at first touch, even if blindfolded.
"Yes, I understand," said T'Pol.
"We have telepaths aboard our ships, working in shifts," said Archer, "so the instant a Xindi Reptilian or Insectoid ship warps into our system, the telepaths detect their mental signatures, alarms go off, ships go to battle stations, and the Xindi are driven off before they can do anything."
"Efficient," said T'Pol.
"You have no idea," said Archer. "The telepaths alert the officers on their respective ships in a fraction of a second and the ships are headed for the Xindi within a minute, weapons hot. We killed two dozen of their ships, before they stopped popping in. We think they're trying to figure out a work around our security nets."
"I see," said T'Pol.
It had been a long time since Vulcans had made systematic use of psychics in war, for such use of psionic talent brought back memories of the dark days of the Vulcan soul, yet the Humans had every excuse to make use of them now.
"Anwyay," said Archer, "back to Trip and Malcolm. As I said, the Border Fleet under Zhan was cruising in search of the Xindi when they were confronted by hundreds of Orion and Nausicaan ships. You know about them and the Andorians, right? They've got some kind of blood feud going on."
"Not precisely, Admiral," said T'Pol. "Andorians despise both Orions and Nausicaans due to their criminal enterprises, and go out of their way to kill them on sight. The Orions and Nausicaans return the favor when possible, which means when they greatly outnumber the Andorians."
"Right," said Archer. "So, the Orions demanded that we stand aside and let them settle their disagreement with the Andorians. Zhan told the Andorians to run for it."
"Imperial Guards do not run from anyone," said T'Pol. "Their duty requires them to fight to the death, which then triggers a massive wave of retribution by Imperial Guards on Orion and Nausicaan ships, strongholds and planets. The latter two species know this is how the Andorians operate, but they can't resist striking at the Guards when possible. So, what happened?"
"As you said, Shran gave the command, the Guards dived into the fray, and Zhan froze," said Archer. "The Andorians had given us a great deal of help since the Madness Season, hell even before that, when they helped stop the Xindi weapon from attacking Earth, but to be fair to Zhan, his first priority was the Xindi. Right or wrong, he ordered the Border Fleet to hold ranks and let them settle the matter between themselves, and he's gone on the record as saying that he believed that the Andorians, once they realized they could not win, would run, and defuse the situation."
"What happened next?" said T'Pol, sure that Admiral Archer was about to get to the heart of the matter.
"Trip ordered the Columbia into the fray, and Malcolm and the Invincible followed a few seconds behind the Columbia. You know he and Trip are close, and Malcolm's too damn loyal for his own good, no way he'd let Trip go into battle while twiddling his thumbs. A dozen other ships followed the Invincible in short order, and then another dozen followed the first, and within a minute the entire Border Fleet was fighting for its life, against two to one odds. The largest naval battle StarFleet has ever fought was completely unexpected, and unplanned."
T'Pol said nothing, just waited for Archer to continue.
"The long and short of it is that the Nausicaans broke and ran, followed shortly by the Orions," said Archer, "after we bloodied them a bit. Zhan ordered that Trip be placed under arrest, but the Columbia's Security officer refused to obey the order. Zhan tried to send his own team to the Columbia but the Columbia's Helmsman shuffled and danced the Columbia so that the shuttle could not dock with the Access Hatch."
T'Pol raised brow at that. Such actions were clearly mutinous.
"Anyway, Trip ordered the Columbia back on course, and Shran's Andorians took up station round the Columbia, and then 130 StarFleet vessels, out of the 150 strong fleet, followed the Columbia. Zhan realized he'd just been dismissed by popular vote, and returned home with his ships in tow.
Archer stopped speaking, looked at T'Pol with a hard grin, and said, "That son of a bitch, Trip, must have balls the size of boulders, eh?"
T'Pol just shook her head in amazement, and waited for Archer to continue, and when the man showed no inclination to do so, she looked at Archer with a clearly expectant expression on her face, willing the man to continue his story.
"Well, as you can imagine, this whole episode was like kicking over a hornet's nest in StarFleet. Some wanted to hang Trip for mutiny, some wanted to hang Zhan for not backing up the Andorians after all they've done for us, but when it was all over StarFleet made the best of it. Zhan retired with full honors, ostensibly due to failing health, and Trip was appointed Fleet Captain for the duration of this mission only. This will never go to a court martial, it would tear StarFleet apart and public opinion would likely be split as well, but his career hangs on whether he fails or succeeds at this task. If he fucks it up, he resigns his commission, or he spends the rest of his time with StarFleet repairing floor polishers, coffee makers and toilets back at HQ."
T'Pol was silent for a while, then said, "Look what happens when I take my eyes off you Humans for a bit, Admiral. You are fortunate that I am back to set things right."
"Yeah, we are," said Archer.
"Has the Madness Season changed him, Admiral? Captain Tucker, I mean."
"I know who you meant. Yeah, it's changed all of us in some ways, T'Pol," said Archer, and left it at that.
"How was everything," said Eduardo, checking up on them both, and eyeing T'Pol's half-eaten chimichanga.
T'Pol caught his glance, and said, "You must know that there is no way I could have finished this beast, Eduardo. But it was very tasty."
"I'm glad, T'Pol," said Eduardo.
"May I take it with me? I can finish it off later tonight."
"Sure," said Eduardo, and picked up T'Pol's plate. "I see you killed off your plate, Jon."
"You know it," said Archer, then looked at T'Pol. "Dessert?"
"Impossible," said T'Pol, and Eduardo laughed as he made his way to the back with T'Pol's food.
"You want to stay at my place tonight?" said Archer. "Or did StarFleet set you up in a nice hotel?"
"My presence is requested at the Vulcan Embassy at 19:00 hours," said T'Pol. "I do not know how long they will keep me there, but my hotel room is just around the corner from the embassy, so no worries there, Admiral."
"Fair enough," said Archer. "Come on, we'll swing by my place. I want to show you where it is, if you ever need a place to stay when I'm out of town, or even if I'm in town. Trip and Hoshi have a key for such occasions, and I made one for you as well, T'Pol."
"That was thoughtful, Admiral," said T'Pol, standing, for Eduardo was coming back with her doggie bag.
"I'm glad to have met the famous T'Pol," said Eduardo with a smile, extending his hand.
T'Pol took the hand out of courtesy, and felt a bone-deep sadness in the man, despite the smile on his face.
"It was my pleasure to meet you as well, Eduardo," said T'Pol. "I will return as often as my schedule allows."
"I'll hold you to that promise," said Eduardo, then shook hands with Jon, gave them a last wave and headed back into the kitchen.
T'Pol noticed Archer slip a twenty dollar bill on the table.
"That can not be enough to cover all that food, Admiral. I still have some currency bills from my last time on Earth," said T'Pol, and laid down her food in order to dig into her little patent leather Hello Kitty coin purse which Trip had given her as a gag gift, but which she'd ended up genuinely liking, and using.
"Forget it," said Jon. "The twenty is for the waitress, not the food. My money's no good here. I make it up to Eduardo in other ways."
"Oh, ok," said T'Pol, and the two headed out into the parking lot. "May I ask a favor, Admiral?"
"Sure."
"May I drive to your place, and then the Vulcan Embassy?"
"You know how to drive one of our cars, T'Pol? A stick shift?"
"I know how to drive a car, fly a plane, a helicopter, steer a boat and ride a motorcycle, Admiral."
"I'm impressed. Why so well versed in our Human machines?"
"A hold over from my past," said T'Pol. "It was required of me to be familiar with the major modes of transportation on every planet I was, ah, 'working' on."
Jon tossed her the keys, and said, "Ok. Let's see what you can do, T'Pol."
He cursed himself minutes later, when T'Pol peeled out of the parking lot and pulled onto the freeway at over a hundred miles and hour, and then sped up further once on the freeway, as if trying to outrun the Devil himself.
Hours later, after seeing the Admiral's place and speaking more of the changes she'd missed, T'Pol pulled up to the Vulcan Embassy and did a neat 180 degree spin at 67.4 miles an hour.
"Jesus Christ, T'Pol," said Archer, terrified, excited and impressed by T'Pol's driving skills. "Where did you learn to drive like this?"
"I used to be an Uber driver, in order to make a bit of pocket money, when I first came to Earth," said T'Pol with a straight face, and Jon laughed. "Anyway, I saved you the trouble of having to turn around. This is a relatively narrow street."
"Yeah, thanks," said Jon, as they got out of the car, certain that he'd have to hose himself off somewhere before entering his house, for he must surely have soiled his underwear during T'Pol's spinout.
Jon pulled T'Pol's bag and her food from the back seat of the Porsche and handed them to her.
"Before you leave, Admiral," said T'Pol, "you promised me a sample of your skills."
"I did?"
T'Pol nodded solemnly.
"Ok, I'll try," said Archer. "But I usually follow a ritual. It's not strictly necessary, but ritual helps focus the mind. Out here in public view, without a chance to focus the mind, I'll just grab for anything that jumps out at me."
"Very well," said T'Pol, intrigued.
She watched Archer intently, but he merely looked back at her, both of them feeling somewhat silly with the extended, silent eye contact, then after a time T'Pol noted that the Admiral's eyes turned dreamy, as if he was not strictly focused on her any more, but as if he looked through her now. He smiled, his breathing rapid, his eyes still looking through her, then he blinked a dozen times, and made eye contact with T'Pol.
"Oh," said Archer with a smile. "I see."
"See what, Admiral? What do you see?"
"You hunt a BlackSand Hawk, T'Pol, but it will be he who captures thee, and puts an end to you."
"What does that mean, Admiral?" said T'Pol.
She was fascinated by the Admiral's words, for the BlackSand Hawk could represent no one else but Captain Tucker. Her mind meld with Soval had cemented that fact into her consciousness, in the first few moments of that meld, when she had noted the resemblance between Captain Tucker's gaze, and that of a BlackSand Hawk.
"Just the ramblings of a madman, T'Pol," said Archer. "Pay me no mind. I don't even know what the hell a BlackSand Hawk is, T'Pol."
"A BlackSand Hawk is a Vulcan raptor, a bird of prey, that is noted for its cruelty and its arrogance. It is considered cruel because it plays with its prey before it kills it, and it is considered arrogant because its favorite prey is the V'lassa Eagle, a raptor twice its size, yet one unable to match the BlackSand's ferocity, agility in the air, or endurance."
"Well, now I know," said Archer.
"Admiral, what did you see?"
"I had an imperfect glimpse of the future, T'Pol."
"Would you care to share it with me?"
"No. Your fate is your fate, T'Pol. It can not be avoided."
"I see," said T'Pol.
She was uncertain of what to make of the Admiral's words, or behavior, though she knew that Archer's words were not literal, but figurative. Still, that puts an end to you phrase did not sound exactly promising. T'Pol was many things, but not a coward, and the Admiral's words were true. Her fate was her fate, and she would meet it bravely, and she would meet it purposefully, no matter the outcome.
"I'll see you at the swearing in ceremony, T'Pol."
"Right, Admiral," said T'Pol. "Thank you for a pleasant and interesting day."
Later that night, T'Pol tossed and turned for hours, the Admiral's words playing over and over in her mind, until eventually, sleep claimed her.