No More Blackened Catfish...Pt 2

No More Blackened Catfish or Pecan Pie*

By Aquila

Part Two

Rating: R
Disclaimer: This is a form of recreation that garners me no remuneration, but plenty of satisfaction.
Note: This does not adhere to canon, but does contain spoilers.
Summary: Trip, T’Pol and the Delphic Expanse.
Author’s note: the asterisk will be explained at the end of the story in an author’s note.
==

Trip paused on the threshold of the ready room to survey the bridge. An ensign was sitting in the tactical hot seat, subbing for Malcolm who, no doubt, was in the armoury arranging the weapons training schedule.

Travis was at the helm as it was an alpha shift. Trip could imagine the young ensign with captain’s pips sitting in the big chair in 10 years. He would probably be on of the youngest captains in Starfleet history.

Next, Trip’s gaze fell on Hoshi Sato, communications officer and an unparalleled linguist. Trip smiled to himself. She had come a long way in the two years they had been in space. In the beginning he had had his doubts. They were long gone.

With no more immediate excuses, he stepped across the threshold and moved in the direction of the science station. T’Pol was seated, leaning into the viewer, scanning the most recent scientific data they had collected in this uncharted region.

Her form-fitting cat-suit was no longer the dingy brown Vulcan High Command standard issue. When she resigned her commission, she had surprised them all by displaying an affinity for pastel hues and v-necks. She had let her hair grow into soft wisps that framed her face. Her back was to him, so he had to rely on his memory for the image. A memory that was photographic when it concerned the enigmatic First Officer.

Of its own volition, his right hand came to rest on her left shoulder. He caught himself just before he began an affectionate squeeze. She looked up, clearly puzzled. He wondered if her puzzlement was at his liberty or the fact that she failed to reprimand him. His apology was delivered in a low voice, meant only for her.

She merely asked, “Do you wish to communicate with me?”

“Yes, the Captain asked me to discuss something with you. I have a meeting scheduled with Nelson in ten minutes. Do you have time to for a meetin’? Say in an hour, in engineering?”

“Certainly, Commander. Afterward, since I will be in engineering, I will complete your departmental personnel evaluations.”

“Always efficient, T’Pol.” Fully aware, this time, of what he was doing, he squeezed her shoulder. “See ya in an hour.”

==

“Please give the repair team a pat on the back from me. And give yourself one too.”

He smiled at Nelson then opened his mouth to continue, when T’Pol entered engineering. He changed tack.

“Forgive me Nelson. I won’t be able to assist you for about a quarter of an hour. T’Pol and I have ship’s business to discuss.”

Nelson nodded, swallowing the thanks with which she had planned to end the conversation. Her superior officer, who a moment before was attentive, was no longer aware she was present. She had come to understand that one leadership technique the Commander used effectively was his ability to make the person with whom he was conversing feel as if she or he was the single most important person in the room. When his attention was diverted it was as if the sun had been obscured by clouds. She shivered slightly. It was no longer her turn in the sun. What had caused the change? Ah ha, she noted silently. T’Pol had arrived. Nelson felt a flash of jealousy then dismissed it. The Commander had a meeting with the woman. He was paying the Vulcan the same attention he would any member of the crew, wasn’t he?

T’Pol, unaware of their inspection, scanned the room. A dozen people were actively engaged at various work stations. They worked in pairs or alone, generating a hum that spoke well of the Commander’s leadership style. She did not expect to hear any negative comments about him when she conducted her portion of the reviews. Enterprise used a three-pronged approach to crew evaluations. Each crewman completed a self-evaluation, to which was attached an evaluation written by the officer to whom he or she reported. The third part was T’Pol’s responsibility, with the exception of any of her direct-reports. After reading the evaluations, she interviewed each of the crew privately. The objective of the interview was to elicit information “off-the-record” was the phrase Archer had used when he explained it to her – that would not be captured in the written reports, but would affect the performance of the crew.

She had been skeptical at first protesting to the Captain that she was the most inappropriate choice as interviewer. She had never forgotten his response.

“Sub-commander, do I need to remind you that your role as First Officer is to maintain the productivity and well-being of the crew?”

He had been stiff and formal as it was in the beginning of their mission, when he had withheld his trust.

“No Captain, you do not need to remind me. I am merely suggesting that the distrust of Vulcan’s that many humans demonstrate might diminish my effectiveness as an interviewer.”

“All the more reason that you should conduct the interviews. It is essential that the crew learn to trust you T’Pol. I don’t expect you to change their opinions about your species, but I do expect you to change their opinion about you.”

“Ahm sorry ta keep ya waitin’, T’Pol.”

Trip interrupted her reverie, all Southern charm and molasses. She had observed that his accent thickened and he reverted to the manners he had been taught as a child when he delivered bad news. She was not going to enjoy this conversation.

==

“I support your observation that the tension between the new people and the old should be alleviated.” T’Pol repeated for the fourth time. “You and Major Hayes are the most appropriate senior personnel to spearhead the change. I, however, am not.”

Trip agreed with her assessment. The Captain had given him permission to accept her decision, what ever it was. Why was he pushing this? Rather than answering the question he offered her an alternative.

“Why don’t you join Major Hayes and me for the initial discussion, before closing the door completely?”

Why not? Her internal turmoil usually hidden by outward calm was apparent to her colleague. He waited patiently through the silence.

Her “I will be free for the discussion at 15:00” was tantamount to surrender.

“I’ll speak with Hayes and get back to ya to confirm the time.”

End of Part Two

Continue to Part 3

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Four of you have made comments

Excellent observation about Trip's abilities to make whoever he is speaking to feel he is an active listener...it's a gift to be able to do that and I can see it in his character.

Looking forward to more of the same!

More, more, more! (She stamped her feet..)

Excellent. I can't wait to see where you intend to take this story and love the way you are building it up. The observations of Trip and T'Pol are really good, very insightful. Thanks for a really intriguing story, Ali D :~)

This has started very promisingly, and I love the observation of the characters...spot on, in my opinion.

Looking forward to a great read.