NX-35 Vigilant

Vulcan Orbit

"Absolutely not, captain." McArthur said firmly. "You aren't fit for duty as it is. You ought to be in sickbay letting Sulok check you over. Not shuttling down somewhere, and sure as hell not Vulcan of all places…"

"We are approaching the away team locker room, Commander." T'Pril advised. "Let this discussion conclude. It would be unproductive for the crew to witness disagreement between the Captain and Executive Officer."

"Then stop being pig-headed and get your damned self to sickbay." Henry countered.

"That is not necessary." She replied. "The effects are passing and will dissipate completely in a matter of hours. I need only retrieve Ensign Rodriguez and return. This is a simple task. Doctor Sulok has cleared me for duty."

"Sulok ain't cleared you for duty!" Henry argued. "He just gave up arguing with you because he ain't willing to relieve you."

"Then you likewise should let go your concern." T'Pril said. "Unless you are willing to relieve me of command where Doctor Sulok is not."

"No, I ain't gonna, dammit, but I don't like it." Henry groused. "And I don't like that you're acting like everything's fine. Because it ain't. I saw you back there and that wasn't no kind of normal behavior for you. Hell, any kind of behavior ain't normal behavior for you…"

"You exaggerate, Commander McArthur." T'Pril insisted. "And this conversation has ended."

They reached the locker room and the captain was through the door without pause, pretty much nipping the whole thing right in the bud. Stopping to take a quick, frustrated breath, McArthur followed her inside…to find that P'Trell was waiting, which made any further argument out of the question. Of all the crewmen he didn't want to be caught arguing with the captain in front of, Rexas topped the list.

"Continue your report, Commander." T'Pril commanded, as she moved to the counter to secure her gear.

As if that's what they'd been talking about. And it was odd in Henry's opinion how the captain didn't ever seem to mind talking bull like that when every other Vulcan he'd even known were all honest to a fault. That didn't make him any happier about this whole situation either, what with her assurances that she was fine and all.

"Stone reported a few minutes ago that they'd arrived and…" McArthur reported, all business now. "Well, everything as expected on that front. She was lifting off then, ETA one hour. West is prepping Shuttle Two for disembark. She'll be your pilot on the way down. Probably back up as well, depending. The liaison from the Vulcan Medical Institute says Rodriguez is on her feet and good to go but I'll leave that for you to decide when you see her."

McArthur cast a glowering nod at P'Trell then. "And also Rexas here pulled regulations out his rear and insists on going as well. Minimum two crew on the ground in all situations and whatnot. And while I think that's pushing it, I reckon I've got no complaint if you want to let security tag along."

T'Pril cast an assessing glance at the Security Chief but didn't offer any argument. With a sharp nod to McArthur she turned her attention fully to Rexas. Thankfully before the Andorian could smirk at Henry as he damned knew he was wanting to. Because he was just in no damned mood right now.

"Standard ground gear for all crewmen. As well as for Ensign Rodriguez." She ordered Rexas. "Include phase pistols, to be stored in the shuttle's secure locker."

P'Trell's antennae twitched a bit at that but he didn't comment. As security officer, T'Pril hadn't expected he would offer any disagreement. Being already outfitted in that manner himself, he simply grabbed two 'go packs' in one hand and headed out the door to the weapons locker around the corner. Pretty obviously, in Henry's opinion, to give them an opportunity to finish the argument he must have known they were having.

While T'Pril pocketed a communicator and retrieved a specialized tricorder from the shelf, Henry watched with agitation, waiting until the door closed completely before continuing to express his disagreement.

"There's already a phase pistol on the shuttle, captain." He began. "And why are you outfitting everyone? It's just a routine pick up."

"I prefer to be prepared for any eventuality, as we have previously discussed." She responded.

"So that ain't a little twinge in judgment then? Maybe an indication you ain't quite a hundred percent here? Like the fact you just grabbed an science tricorder instead of a standard?"

"This is the tricorder I prefer, Commander." She argued.

"You ain't even out the door and you're already half a bubble off plumb." Henry grumped. "I'm just about ready to relieve you after all, captain."

At that T'Pril stopped what she was doing and turned to face him head on.

"Commander McArthur." She said calmly. "I understand you are concerned. In your position as Executive Officer it is perhaps admirable. However, I can only assure you again that I am well. Any further consideration is not necessary. Unless you are prepared to relieve me of command without cause then those concerns are duly noted. Return to the bridge and take command of the ship until I return."

With a long stare to give McArthur enough time not to do anything as stupid as try to relieve her of command for no reason he could adequately explain, she nodded and left the room. Leaving McArthur to glower all alone from the very bad feeling this whole thing was giving him.

But at least she hadn't said 'I admit' or 'regrettable failure'. Because that would have been that and he'd have put his foot down all over the damned place.

**********

As the shuttle cleared the bay and backed slowed out to space, T'Pril could only reflect that above everything else she was most cognizant of her relief at being away from Henry McArthur at the moment. Never mind that she was about to venture into the upper atmosphere of her mother's home world, a planet she had up to now only dreamed of ever seeing. And never mind that once she got there she'd be sneaking about like a criminal on some dubious espionage mission for an organization she had absolutely no trust in. And never mind as well that all of this took place against the backdrop of her obligations to her crew, who relied upon her to be honorable and…well, quite frankly, worthy of their obedience.

No, above all that the thing that occupied her mind the most, in contradiction to all logic, was the relief at having escaped that man. Because he was the only one in position to question her decisions. The one to whom, to some degree at least, she was beholden to explain her reasoning. And while she would otherwise consider herself up to that task, or at least for outmatching him in sheer stubbornness…at the moment she just wasn't up to either. She knew very well that were he granted just a minute or two more with which to torment her, she would certainly have snapped. She would have said or done something that would have given him every reason to relieve her of command.

Because he was, of course, absolutely right. She was not at all one hundred percent at the moment. Not even close. That accursed T'Lin's irrational fury still pounded in her veins, undermining her self-control enough that this was the best that she could accomplish. This pathetic running away from the humiliation of the incident in the corridor and sitting now on the shuttle, on her way down to Vulcan, merely hoping she could manage to pull the whole thing off. Instead of having a well thought out strategy in place for dealing with all possible contingencies as she certainly ought to have.

But on the other hand she supposed it could be far worse. The desire to inflict violence was an impulse she at least had some familiarity with, as particularly hated and feared as that impulse might be to her. At present she might be having difficulty suppressing it but that was perhaps one benefit of being half human. At least then the emotions and urges one was afflicted with were somewhat manageable on their own. Honestly, humans generally had no idea how very lucky they were. Most Vulcans spent the first decade of their adulthood mastering the basic level of self-control that your average human was born with.

And more than that, come to think of it, she could have attempted the to'tsu'k'hy on T'Lin while she had been distracted, huddled to McArthur's chest as she had been. T'Pril shuddered to think just what urging she might be suffering at the moment had she chosen to do so then. She almost had decided to do just that when she had first been confronted with the situation in the corridor. As it happened, only concern for the commander had prompted her to attempt to remove him from the situation before dealing with T'Lin directly. An impulsive decision that it would seem had nevertheless served her well.

However, it certainly would have been preferable if someone had warned her beforehand that the to'tsu'k'hy had this effect in such extreme circumstances. Sulok's explanation of what had happened to her was the first she'd ever heard of it. If she had known that she would have stunned the woman a few times with a phase pistol instead. Or simply beaten her unconscious. Both ideas having tremendous appeal at the moment.

Confronted with that line of thought, T'Pril realized her thoughts were flowing without any constraint whatsoever. And worse, she had apparently degenerated to the point of violent fantasy. So, as much as she found dealing with her emotional state in a human manner to be extremely disagreeable, it was clear that Vulcan discipline was accomplishing little. Whatever it was about this condition that allowed it to so neatly avoid almost every established method of suppression, she was forced now to accept that the logical response was to resort to human methods.

So she required a distraction.

Which, when she glanced over at the rear view screen on the pilot's console, promptly presented itself.

It only took a moment to link the newest addition to the Vigilant's hull designation to the fleeting interaction between Commander McArthur and Ensign Summers on the bridge earlier. Obviously the work had taken place at Jupiter Station and so McArthur must have been giving Summers the cue to direct the repair drones to add the 'kill mark'. As that would require illegally accessing the drones in the first place then it followed that most likely Ensign West had performed a 'hack'. All of which illustrated clearly that her command staff had conspired to violate Starfleet code and had colluded further to keep that knowledge from her.

Though T'Lin's phantom urgings insisted she confront West immediately and aggressively, in hopes of sparking a confrontation, T'Pril reined in the impulse and mulled the matter over for a while. That her staff would conspire together to such ends spoke quite a lot concerning the crew's morale. Especially to her failures in that area. After a few moments of contemplation it became clear to her what had prompted McArthur to instigate this action, as well as what role she was expected to play in its resolution. And so it seemed best to take steps in that direction immediately.

"Ensign West." She said at last. "There is a phrase I have heard several times in the last few years. Perhaps you are familiar with it?"

A little surprised to find the captain apparently making small talk all of a sudden, West divided her attention between her captain and flying the shuttle. Once T'Pril was sure she was listening…and P'Trell as well, who sat across from her, she continued.

"'The XO flies the ship. The Captain cracks the whip.'" She said. "I have heard it many times, in many variations, but until now did not fully understand the meaning."

After a moment, West replied hesitantly. "Well, yeah. I guess I've heard something like that. To be honest, I'm not sure I can explain what it's supposed to mean."

P'Trell, at no surprise to her, immediately interjected. "It means the second in command is usually the one to get things done. With the top officer positioned where they are on the chain of command, they can't get their hands dirty. The XO runs the unit and the OIC maintains the link with command…both ways. From my experience the same general principle holds true at all levels in all militarized organizations."

Yet again T'Pril found Rexas unpredictable. And again she resolved to keep a closer eye on him than she had up to this point.

T'Pril nodded. "This is essentially correct. So, for example, when crew morale suffered recently from the rejection they suffered, both from their peers aboard the Aurora and the Jupiter Station crew, Commander McArthur took it upon himself to address that. Where as I, as captain, was both unwilling and unable to do what was most expedient in that regard."

From P'Trell's ready grin she could see he'd understood quickly what she was referring to. West still looked a bit confused, though.

"The 'kill mark', Ensign West." She explained. "The reasons Commander McArthur arranged for it's placement should be clear to you in light of this."

West immediately looked abashed. "Oh. Captain…I…" She stammered.

"I am not demanding an accounting at this time, ensign." T'Pril assured her. "I call attention to this now so that you can both learn something concerning your positions as department heads."

After a pause for West to catch up with her, she continued. "Commander McArthur, as Executive Officer, could order such a thing in contradiction to Starfleet code regarding ship designations. He could do this because, when it was inevitably discovered, he need only suffer a mild rebuke and correction before all could be made well again. Were I to have ordered such a thing to be done, the repercussions would have been much more profound and the correction involved would originate from higher on the chain of command. Do you understand?"

West could see what the captain was getting at easily enough. "Yes, ma'am." She nodded. "I suppose it would have been a pretty big deal."

"Indeed." T'Pril affirmed. "In that case most likely an officer ranking at least Admiral would have been forced to address this matter with me. And so, consequently, the response would be necessarily heavy handed. In the current case, I need only express my disapproval before the crew and order the 'kill mark' removed. No further action need be taken. And when Admiral Archer questions me concerning this violation of code, I can assure him the matter has been resolved. Which he will readily accept, as he will likely understand the intricacies involved."

She eyed the two officers for a moment, to be sure they understood her point. P'Trell seemed already familiar with the politics at play. West, however, seemed only now to dawn upon them.

"Consider this matter carefully." T'Pril advised. "Most certainly, this was not merely a juvenile rebellion against authority on Commander McArthur's part. It was necessary to instigate this action without my knowledge, even as he was surely aware it would come to my attention eventually. And that my reaction would then be to enforce Starfleet regulations. In the end the crew morale has significantly improved, but at the expense of discipline. Which, of course, I will correct when we return to the ship."

She looked to each of the two officers present. "And so McArthur and I will have performed our duties as Executive Officer and as Captain, to address both morale and discipline. The needs of the crew and the requirements of Starfleet."

"As department heads, each of you have been granted 'seconds'." She continued. "Unofficial second officers of your own, each whom oversee your departments while you attend to bridge duties. Consider McArthur's actions carefully and with greater insight. You will find he is exceptionally skilled in this area, the result of many years of experience. And you will find a greater understanding of how best you utilize your department seconds. I am aware that the officer ranking aboard the ship makes your positions uncomfortable. However, I am unwilling to grant the promotions that many of you feel would resolve that matter somewhat. At least until I feel they are appointed appropriately. Emulate Commander McArthur in relation to your departments and I may soon find it convenient to offer you the promotions that you aspire to. Otherwise, they will not serve the ship."

"But rest assured I will hold you responsible both for the efficiency and the actions of the individual officers under you." She warned. "If you wish to maintain your positions, then lead them well. If you manage to impress the Executive Officer in the process, this will factor significantly in my decisions regarding promotion and assignment."

And that was that. With the silence that descended, T'Pril was sure both officers had been given quite a lot to reflect upon. Turning her attention inward again she considered much the same herself, reassessing both her and the XO's role in commanding the ship. It wasn't necessary for the two officers to understand she'd only just come to this conclusion herself. Better that she appeared to have understood all along. But the fact remained, she was only beginning to understand just why McArthur had avoided taking command himself, preferring the position of 'mere' Executive Officer. He had plainly stated his reasoning before but only now did she begin to see just what he'd meant.

While she had simply intended to distract herself from her…emotional difficulties, she found that she'd stumbled somewhat on a greater understanding of her role in the command process. An understanding of something, she was somewhat humbled to realize, her XO seemed to have grasped intuitively.

But nonetheless, as the shuttle approached the south landing pad of the Vulcan Medical Institute, T'Pril reflected for just a moment that the entire diversion had served her well. Her irrational aggression had greatly diminished and she felt, at least for the moment, like the captain again. Even if her understanding of what exactly that meant had changed significantly.

**********

"Okay, doc. So she was just confused and trying to get home, is that right?" McArthur carried on, as he and Sulok moved down the deck E corridor toward the airlock.

"Indeed." Replied Sulok. "However, I do not believe it is appropriate to discuss this matter…"

"Tough." Henry grumped. "We're discussin' it. So spit it out."

Sulok paused for a moment, as close to an expression of longsuffering as he would permit. "Very well. That was indeed her goal. As the condition necessarily undermines discipline, she merely lost control momentarily and attempted…"

"Right." Henry nodded abruptly. "She lost her head, broke out through the vents, got herself lost and was just trying to get somebody as looked like they knew their way around to get her to a shuttle. Got fed up with waitin' around to get home to her fellah, is that right?"

"That is my estimation." Sulok agreed.

"So…no danger of…you know…" Henry floundered a bit. "I mean, she wasn't looking for…"

"If you are asking if her intention was to mate with you…" Sulok began.

"Right. That." Henry winced. "Sheesh, doc."

"No, commander." Sulok assured. "That is extremely unlikely."

"I dunno." Henry argued, shaking his head. "Whatever hoodoo she was putting on me, I wasn't exactly feelin' all gentlemanly just about then."

"She would not have permitted you to take advantage of her condition, commander." Sulok asserted. "As I have stated, she is bonded."

"Well. You keep sayin' that." Henry worried. "But like I said, I was starting to get all manner of unpolite there for a minute. And she didn't seem in all that much condition to…you know…put up much of a fight about it…"

"I will remind you, commander, that T'Lin is Vulcan and considerably stronger than you." Sulok maintained. "Very likely you would have been physically assaulted and should you have managed to remain conscious, forced on threat of further violence to escort her to the shuttle bay. As I have said, she is mated. She would not have accepted any other than her bond mate so long as he remained even remotely accessible."

Henry considered for a long moment, before nodding. "Well, alright. Reckon that's good enough then."

As they continued on through the twists and turns that lay between sickbay and the airlock, Sulok at last inquired on what had troubled him the most during their conversation. Other than the extremely inappropriate nature of it, that is.

"Commander. I am curious." He said. "As the situation has long since been resolved why does it continue to trouble you? You seem unusually disturbed by events that have not occurred."

Henry frowned. "I ain't that kinda fellah, doc. I don't much like the idea of losing control of myself in the first place and sure as hell don't like that somebody else might be done wrong on account of it."

The commander was seemingly offended, which Sulok found fascinating. McArthur shrugged then. "Reckon I just feel better knowin' she'd smacked me down if I got outta hand, you know?"

At Sulok's continued stare, he responded further, clearly affronted. "Doc, what if it'd been you? You wouldn't feel the same way?"

"My preference would be for whatever resolution was most productive." Sulok insisted. "As it happens, I would agree with you that it would be better for the situation not to...'get out of hand'. However, it is clear that your individual motivations are…"

"Right. Okay, doc." Henry replied impatiently. "You agree, got it. Never mind motivations right now."

With a sharp nod forward, McArthur drew his attention ahead, where they were approaching within sight of the airlock. There they found Teval waiting, in the company of a clearly uneasy ship's steward. Sulok was immediately aware that most of the conversation he'd had with the commander had likely been overheard far down the halls.

It was obvious that the elder Vulcan was paying only the barest respects to protocol, waiting for the commanding officer to see him off the ship. Before they could properly arrive, he had already turned abruptly and entered the airlock, where his private shuttle awaited him. When they came at last to a full stop, staring after him, the airlock was already beginning to cycle and Teval was effectively gone.

After a moment Henry snorted, frowning. "Well. I can't even muster a proper feeling of personal offense here, doc. I'm just that glad the old bastard's off my damned ship."

Jerking a disdainful thumb at the airlock, Henry asked. "And anyhow, explain to me a people who are supposed to be all about logic and rationality producing a butthole like that?"

Sulok considered carefully before responding, somewhat put off by the commander's colorful language. "As we must develop personal discipline during our formative years, so it also begins to fail us in our elder days. Many older Vulcans have difficulty suppressing such minor displays of displeasure and disagreement. It is not unusual."

"Hmm." Henry considered, before smirking. "So you've got your grumpy old bastards too, then."

"Essentially." Sulok agreed. "Although, I must admit, many simply avail themselves of a convenient excuse for such behavior."

Henry grinned outright at that. "Same with us, doc. You oughta meet my grand pappy some day. Heart of gold but you'd never know it they way he carries on sometimes." Henry slapped on hand to his thigh sharply. "Right. Well, we're done here. You get on back to sickbay and I'm headin' for the bridge, try to get the captain back quick and us the hell out of here…"

"But, uh…" He paused, furrowing his brow for a moment. "One more thing I gotta ask you about, doc." Henry glanced quickly both ways down the hall, assuring himself it was clear before continuing.

"This 'pond far' thing." He said, in a subdued tone. "Any worry this is gonna hit the captain any time in the next few years?"

Sulok simply stared, projecting stony disapproval as strongly as he figured he could get away with, considering McArthur was, technically, a superior officer. He'd already violated several tenets of proper behavior with the conversation they'd just had. This was simply going much too far.

Henry frowned. "I ain't trying to get into anyone's personal business out of pure nosiness here, doc. I seen what this did to that girl before. That could have been a heck of a lot more serious than it was, real easy. Like you pointed out, I damned near got myself beat down. Probably would have, given just another minute or two."

"Now." He continued. "Captain says it's 'many decades' before she's gotta contend with this but if there's any possibility this is gonna present itself around here ever, I need to know about it. Well in advance, if I can."

Sulok pondered the matter for a moment before deciding to defer. "Very well." He replied. "I cannot say for certain, nor project with acceptable accuracy. Captain Tucker is a hybrid and, to my knowledge, the first of her kind. As such she will approach her time before any other recorded Human/Vulcan hybrid that I am aware of. And so there is no prior documentation or experience that I can draw upon."

Sulok drew a breath. "However." He said. "I would say that she is correct in her estimate. Unmated Vulcan females are usually well into the their sixth or seventh decade before their time comes, while those who are mated may come to time earlier, especially if one's mate is himself much older. For Captain Tucker, I would estimate much the same, although the effects of her human half cannot be confidently known. As humans exist in a state of very mild plak tow almost consistently from puberty, it is difficult to assess whether this will hasten or delay her time. Or whether it will have any effect at all."

"But, I would estimate no less than three decades and no more than five, which it would seem the captain indicated when she referenced 'many decades'. Furthermore, there are clear signs well in advance of impending plak tow if one is aware of them. It is not a condition that approaches unannounced."

Henry frowned. "Doc, that little girl wasn't far past twenty, so I reckon your math's off a bit. You sure about that?"

"Vulcan age is difficult to assess from physical appearance." Sulok corrected. "Especially if you are used to estimating the age of fellow humans in that manner. She may have appeared to be in only her twenties to your perceptions but she is very likely your senior by as many as twenty or thirty years."

Henry was shocked at that. "You mean that was an old woman? Sure as hell didn't seem like it, doc."

Sulok cocked an eyebrow up then. "Hardly. In Vulcan years, this would be the equivalent of her 'twenties' in physical maturity but overall, especially psychological and emotional development, she was nonetheless your elder by a wide margin. In fact, it is doubtful that she would have found you appealing in that regard, even in the grips of plak tow."

"Hmm. Alright, if you say so." Henry muttered. "Though, damned if you folks don't do everything in as confusin' a manner as possible." He shook his head then before continuing. "So no worries anything like this is gonna pop up with the captain then, have I got that right?"

"No difficulties of that nature." Sulok assured. "I will submit that this is not an area of concern."

Which was great. Except that Henry found, to his surprise, that he was a little disappointed. But he decided to drop that line of thought double quick.

Except...something else about that didn't sit right.

"Okay...what do you mean 'difficulties of that nature'?" He asked. "You got something else in mind you ain't mentioned?"

At Sulok's pause, McArthur decided he had better revert to good old fashioned gruffness. "If there's something' else you ain't sayin', doc, you'd best give it up. Don't make me come lookin' to skin your hide two years from now because of something' you shoulda…"

"Commander, excuse me." Sulok interjected. "There is nothing in particular that concerns me. Merely the captain's Human/Vulcan nature. Quite frankly, it disturbs me that you seek my insights here. I know nothing of such hybrids and, as I have said, there is little evidence to draw upon to form any further conclusions. Even my estimations lack confidence."

Henry frowned. "You aren't just covering your butt here, are you doc? I'm not asking you to put anything down and sign your name to it here. She's pretty much Vulcan. And you're a Vulcan doctor. I don't see the problem."

"I believe you are mistaken, commander." Sulok argued. "She may behave in a Vulcan manner, or at least attempt to, but she is not Vulcan. Nor, in fact, can she be said to be Human either. She is something else entirely. Considering the natures of our respective peoples, an amalgam of the two would, I can only assume, produce an exceeding volatile individual. Very likely, this is why she embraces Vulcan discipline."

Henry considered that for a bit. And found it did not suit him at all. No, not one bit.

"So, you ain't got no idea what…but you're expecting some kind of trouble eventually. Is that it?"

"To establish my point, commander." Sulok replied. "Perhaps you have not noticed, but her blood is red. Not green. This, I would think, illustrates the reason for my concern."