—Chapter 23—
"Engineering," said Trip in answer to the summons beep from the wall console.
"Trip?"
"Yeah, Malcolm, what's up?"
"Can I talk to you in private?"
"Now?" said Trip.
"Yes."
"Sure. You want to come down here?" said Trip. "I'll close the office door and there are rumors that a bottle of good tequila is hidden here, somewhere, along with two shot glasses. Maybe we can find it."
"Listen, I'm in my quarters now. Can I see you here?"
"Sounds serious. Ok. On my way," said Trip.
"Good. Thanks, Trip."
Five minutes later, Trip announced himself and Malcolm met him at the door, to walk him inside. Malcolm's desktop monitor was on, and the moving image of a man was displayed on that monitor."
"If you've got a call, I can come back in a few minutes," said Trip.
"No," said Malcolm. "This arsehole with teeth and a cheap toupee is Harris. He wants to speak with you."
"Ok," said Trip, although this was not what he'd expected.
A moment later, both Trip and Malcolm were seated in front of the monitor, and Malcolm said, "You're up, Harris."
"Commander Tucker," said Harris. "I'm here in order to recruit you for a mission."
"I'm not interested," said Trip. "My last mission was a ball buster."
"Yes," said Harris. "I've heard of it, Commander, and I understand your sentiment. Still, I think you will be interested, when you hear what I have to offer for your participation in this mission."
"What kind of mission?" said Trip.
"I can't tell you," said Harris, "until you agree to be part of this mission, leave the Enterprise and arrive at your destination. For what it's worth, Lieutenant Reed has agreed to accompany you."
"Ok, you can't tell me the nature of the mission," said Trip. "What can you offer me?"
"I understand you and SubCommander T'Pol are now mated," said Harris.
Trip looked at Malcolm, and Malcolm shook his head subtly in denial.
"Lieutenant Reed said nothing, I assure you," said Harris. "I have many sources of information."
"Let me guess," said Trip. "Now you threaten to disclose that information and blackmail me into going on this mission."
"I prefer not to work that way," said Harris.
Malcolm coughed and said, "Bullshit!" as part of the cough. Harris fixed Malcolm with a hard look, then turned his attention back to Trip and in the span of a few minutes, explained to Commander Tucker exactly what he had to offer him, in return for his participation in the upcoming mission.
"That is tempting," said Trip. "I've never heard of you, Harris. What's your association with StarFleet?"
"That's none of your business," said Harris.
"So how do I know you can deliver what you promise?" said Trip, and Harris looked at Malcolm.
"Harris is an ugly cock and the result of a generational pattern of incest," said Malcolm, "but he always keeps his word and he always delivers."
"How long will this mission take to complete?" said Trip.
"Best guess? Three to five months, give or take a couple of weeks either way. The actual mission will only take a day or so, the rest is training, planning and other assorted preparations."
"When do you need my answer, Harris?" said Trip.
"Now. If you accept the mission, you and Reed leave the Enterprise at 03:00, so that gives you, what, eleven hours, to pack, say good-bye and spend some time with the SubCommander. You can sleep on the shuttle."
"How do we clear it with Captain Archer?" said Trip.
"I'll take care of it. Your orders will come through StarFleet, after you accept the mission. Your shuttle will be on its way to pick you up soon afterwards. I'm presuming my offer is tempting enough that you can't pass it up," said Harris. "Now, your decision, Commander?"
Trip thought madly, as Malcolm and Harris waited patiently.
"I'll do it," said Trip.
"It is too soon, Commander Tucker," said T'Pol, as she and Trip enjoyed a late night snack in the Mess Hall. "Given what you went through during your last mission, they had no right to ask this of you."
"It's ok, T'Pol."
T'Pol watched incredulously as the Commander dumped one tablespoon of sugar into his coffee, then another, then two more. In normal circumstances she would have lectured him on the harms of excess sugar, but she was distracted by the Commander's mission, which took the fight out of her.
"What is the mission, Commander Tucker?"
"They won't tell me until I leave the Enterprise and arrive at my destination," said Trip.
"Will they allow me to join you, Commander? My talents could help ensure the success of this mission."
"Sorry, apparently they just need a Chief Engineer," said Trip.
"How long will you be gone, Commander?"
"Three to five months, T'Pol, but the majority of that time is allotted to training. The actual mission is only slated to last a day or two."
"That is a long time to be gone, Trip," said T'Pol. "I will miss you."
"I'll miss you too, T'Pol, but it's for a good cause."
"You said you did not know the nature of this mission, Commander. So how do you know it is for a good cause?"
"No, T'Pol. I meant it's good for our cause. I'm doing it for you, I'm doing it for me."
"I would much rather have my mate by my side," said T'Pol, "than have him intentionally placing himself in harm's way in order to secure a round of promotions for us both."
"It's not like that, T'Pol."
"Very well. In what way will it be good for us, Commander?"
"Will you allow me surprise you with it when I get back, T'Pol? Please."
T'Pol thought for a moment, then said, "I will, on one condition, Commander. You promise to find your way back to me at the end of this mission."
"I promise, T'Pol."
There seemed nothing left to talk about concerning the Commander's departure, so she went off onto a tangent.
"You have gone quite mad, Commander Tucker," said T'Pol, indicating the soiled plates assembled in front of the Commander, the grim reminder of a last supper of sorts.
Over there, a large bowl which had contained a sausage, crawfish and shrimp gumbo built around a roux as dark as chocolate, and next to it the plate which had held the crusty, garlic and butter baguette which Chef had paired with the gumbo. Next to that platter, another large plate which had held a whole fried catfish, six fried frog legs, fries, coleslaw, a spicy boudin sausage, and lastly, a cake dish which held only a few moist crumbs of the lemon and poppy seed pound cake, drizzled with a sweet a sauce made of sugar, lemon zest and rum, which Chef had sent out of his kitchen.
"Hey, if Chef wants to take care of me before I leave, who am I to refuse? For all I know I'm eating cardboard until I return to the Enterprise."
"It is fortunate for us both that the Mess Hall was empty at this hour, or we would have had a number of spectators to contend with, all wishing to watch a Southern fried Caligula stuff his gullet."
"We've had a pleasant time of it this evening, T'Pol. Will you really send me off with this tirade against a good ol' boy who happens to enjoy his food?"
"Apologies, Commander," said T'Pol.
"Didn't I take care of my baby?" said Trip, reaching out to gently caress T'Pol's ear. "I worked like a trooper for hours, T'Pol, touching this, touching that, kissing this, kissing that, nibbling this, nibbling that…"
"You did. You did," said T'Pol, blushing. "I have no complaints on that score, Commander Tucker. Your preparatory attention to detail was nothing short of magnificent and when you moved past that, you rocked my world. Did I use that phrase correctly?"
"You did," said Trip, pulling T'Pol close in order to plant a kiss on her cheek.
Just then, Trip's comm unit buzzed.
"Tucker."
"Shuttle is here, Commander," said Malcolm. "Make your way to the access hatch. I thought the flight crew might want to stretch their legs, get a bite to eat, but they're on a schedule."
"Right," said Trip. "On my way."
T'Pol remained silent as she and the Commander walked the halls towards the turbo-lift. When the doors had closed and the lift had just begun moving towards its destination, T'Pol paused its motion. After a kiss long enough to satisfy them both, she allowed the turbo-lift to resume its course.
"Remember your promise, Commander," said T'Pol, looking Trip directly in the eye. "If you do not return in time, I will come for you, and I had best not find you ensconced as an alien potentate on some pleasure planet, a harem of women at your feet."
Trip laughed at the thought.
"Oh, come on, you'd never find me! I bet I could find some place in this vast universe, some place safe from the wrath of my Vulcan mate, T'Pol. I just have to find it."
"No such place exists, Commander, I assure you. Do not even waste your time on such a fruitless search. I will find you no matter where you run."
"I'm teasing you, T'Pol," said Trip, using the opportunity to steal one last quick kiss from T'Pol, even as the turbo-lift reached its destination. "I'd never run from you. Never, never, never."
The rest of their time together was brief, and much too soon T'Pol saw the shuttle pull away from the Enterprise, and then vanish in an instant as the pilot engaged the warp drive.