Pathways - Part 3

TRIP/T’POLERS MU FANFIC CHALLENGE

Pathways

By Energy4TripnT’Pol

Rating: PG
Disclaimer: ~ an episode of “Star Trek: Enterprise”: $ on Paramount’s budget. Getting Trip and T’Pol together: priceless for us desperate fanfic writers. So no, I’m not making money and Paramount owns the series and all the characters involved. ~
Genre: Of course romance, slight angst, some mystery, just a hint of everything else . . .
Summary: When Enterprise comes upon a “mirror” Enterprise, they keep tabs on them from afar and T’Pol is sent for recon. However, taking her counterpart’s place makes her learn a lesson about the man in love with her. Meanwhile, Trip wonders why he is feeling telepathic in regards to T’Pol.
Spoilers: Includes a few things I’ve heard about “Through a Mirror, Darkly”, a little of “The Aenar”, “Affliction”, and “Bound”
Archiving: No archiving, please.

Note: When I wrote this, I was under the impression that “Bound” was airing after the Mirror Universe arc episodes. Forgive me for not having the details right, and do note I have hinted some “bond” issues into the story. So in this part, Trip can’t see in T’Pol’s mind. Sorry!

* * *

Part III: (Chapters 11-14)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“After I transported aboard and rendered my counterpart unconscious, I headed for the Bridge.”

Trip silently thought that T’Pol had an interested way of telling stories. They were sitting cross-legged across from each other in her quarters, both in off-duty clothes. Her meditation candles that the captain allowed for her sanity were all lit, and it cast little shadows here and there that otherwise would have distracted Trip. But at the time, he was listening to T’Pol recant her journey on the other Enterprise. He could have said the same with more action and less words, but he let her continue anyway.

“When I arrived on the Bridge, it was apparent that T’Pol was looked down on. Captain Archer said certain things that could be construed as harassment. Lieutenant Reed pretended not to notice my outfit.”

“Don’t tell me it was inappropriate,” Trip said.

“Apparently, it was too attractive for some. I hid in her closet when I beamed over and noticed her outfits are more . . . conservative. But it did its job,” she said, trying to make Trip feel better.

He smiled for only a second and motioned for her to keep going.

“By the time I arrived, the crew was already aware of the nebula and the subspace anomaly within. They had begun conducting scans and, as I mentioned to you earlier, Enterprise wasn’t detected.” Trip imagined that in her mind, she was recalling the differences as she spoke and paused, but she continued. “Captain Archer said that perhaps there was a way for Enterprise to fit through the anomaly. I believe he wanted to personally push the ship through.”

Trip smiled at the thought. “Give me a little back history, so I understand everything. Let’s start with First Contact. We figured that was the instrumental starting point. What happened?”

“When the Vulcans arrived, they had an unwelcome reception. Humans actually chased them back onto the ship with excessive force. After that, they didn’t attempt another first contact until Henry Archer was working with Dr. Cochrane on the Warp Five Engine.”

“More pushiness,” Trip noted.

T’Pol concurred. “Much like the Vulcan High Command did in our reality, they interjected the idea that humans weren’t ready for warp travel. Jonathan Archer was a child and he took it personally.”

* * *

In his ready room, Jonathan Archer was glancing back over T’Pol’s report on a padd when Hoshi called through the comm. “Bridge to Captain Archer.”

“Go ahead, Hoshi.”

“Sir, you have an incoming communication from Admiral Gardner. It’s about the subspace anomaly.”

“I’ll take it in here. Archer out.” He opened up his comm screen and Admiral Gardner appeared. Since the passing of Admiral Forrest, he and Gardner had talked frequently but lost a touch of comradeship. “Admiral. What can I do for you?”

“I’ve been reviewing the data from this subspace anomaly that you’ve explored. Is there a possibility that further reconnaissance could be conducted?”

“I suppose.”

“Ambassador Soval has been here. Apparently, the Vulcans want to know whether this poses a threat to them.”

“Commander T’Pol just got back from recon. There didn’t seem to be many differences.”

“You’re eluding me, Jon. Frankly, some of the folks back here want to know if the subspace anomaly can be closed up.”

Again, Archer repeated with eyes narrowed, “I suppose.”

“All right, here is what’s going on. Starfleet wants further recon. The Vulcans want to consider the possibility that the people from this other universe could be hostile towards us.” Gardner leaned forward on his desk. “What do you think?”

“I agree with T’Pol. She thinks we shouldn’t push it. I respect her opinion and frankly, following her opinion has saved lives before. I don’t think the circumstances are any different here.”

“I figured you would. I’ll try holding them off while you come up with something else. Gardner out.” The image of his face vanished from his screen and he sighed, leaning back in his chair. Porthos walked over and jumped on his leg.

Archer slightly laughed. “What do you think?”

Porthos jumped back to the floor and pointed his snout at the cabinet which held the cheese.

“One more piece. One,” he repeated. He stood up from his chair and walked over to the cabinet. As he reached in for Porthos’ cheese, the chime rang.

“Come in.”

Hoshi walked in, avoiding the fiasco with the cheese. “I don’t suppose it was good news.”

“Why?”

“You’re feeding Porthos cheese.”

Archer chuckled. “Thanks for the emphasis. Actually, I’m at a crossroads but with everyone off-duty they might be a little resentful if I called them.”

Hoshi shrugged. “I’m not off-duty. What’s wrong?”

As Porthos chugged down a piece of cheese, Archer walked back behind his desk and Hoshi sat. “Starfleet wants to know if further recon can be conducted. The Vulcans want to know if we can close the subspace anomaly.”

“What’s wrong with conducting recon?” Hoshi asked, slightly shrugging.

“You heard T’Pol. The other ‘me’ is cynical. She even said that I had Travis put in Cargo Bay One without the temperature at normal. Malcolm is gung-ho on weapons and torture. Personally, none of them sound like nice characters.”

“What’s wrong with closing the anomaly?”

“First we have to come up with a way to do it,” Archer said, standing up again. He walked to the window, looked out into the gray matter, and sighed. “I’ll tell Trip and the rest of the senior crew to meet in the mess hall. I need to contact Admiral Gardner again.”

Hoshi stood up and slightly smiled. “You’re welcome.”

* * *

“And so when my counterpart came to Earth with the Vulcan delegation, Captain Archer kidnapped me.”

Trip bit his lip. “And that’s how you ended up on Enterprise. Still against your preference.”

T’Pol nodded and was about to continue when another voice intruded into her quarters. “Archer to T’Pol.”

T’Pol uncrossed her legs and stood to reach the comm. “T’Pol here.”

“I realize you’re off-duty, but could you meet me in the mess hall? I’ve made a decision about the subspace anomaly and Starfleet has approved it.”

“On my way. T’Pol out.”

She pressed the comm button again as Trip stood also. “I’m gonna assume he means the senior staff by that.”

“Trip, I apologize.”

“Not your fault,” he said, shaking his head.

And then, “Archer to Tucker.”

“The man’s calling us individually? There’s gotta be a better way to do this. Hit the comm for me, would ya? Yeah, go ahead, Captain.”

“Could you meet me in the mess hall?”

“Does this include a beer, seeing as how late this is?”

“Maybe.”

“Ya got it. Tucker out.” Trip glanced at T’Pol. “Do ya wanna change?”

“I don’t believe anyone will be offended by my appearance.”

“Okay. And, we will get to finish this conversation?”

“One of these days.”

Trip smiled, and then opened the door for her. He followed her to the turbolift, and shortly after arriving was joined by Travis Mayweather, yawning. Travis had been asleep in his quarters and was still yawning as he attempted to wake up.

“Any idea what this is about?” Travis asked.

Trip shook his head. “We’ll find out when we get there.”

* * *

CHAPTER TWELVE

Trip and T’Pol walked soberly away from Sickbay with a dreadful realization starting to take hold on his mind. He was going to be a father. Hopefully.

If the pregnancy went well, in another eight months T’Pol would give birth. At least, Dr. Erica Coleman had estimated that figure between Vulcan and human gestation periods. To the doctor’s knowledge, there had never been a Vulcan-human baby born before. Not only had no one been able to successfully combine Vulcan and human genome, but a good many people were against alien/human children.

And then there was the crew on the ship. A few of them would shoot them on site if this information leaked out about her condition. One of which being Malcolm Reed, Trip made a special note in his mind to keep away from the tactical officer for the next few days.

T’Pol seemed unnerved as she walked back to the turbolift. “I should send a communiqué to Dr. Gregory and let her know that the application works.”

“Your life and that of our baby is at stake and you’re more worried about test results?” Trip said, clearly dismayed.

“Do you have a better idea?” T’Pol said, stopping in her tracks.

Trip gripped her arms and steered her to the turbolift. “I’m just sayin’, maybe we should be thinkin’ about the future right now.”

He pressed the button and the turbolift opened. Pressing the button for B-deck, he turned around and faced her again. “I am thinking about the future, Trip,” she replied as soon as he looked at her. “Many possibilities are present in my mind. However, most are not possible with our circumstances.”

The doors opened and thankfully, no one was there. Trip and T’Pol sauntered casually down the corridor. “Maybe we should consider leaving Enterprise,” Trip whispered.

T’Pol turned and looked at him. “Why?”

“Because if we stay, our lives are in danger. Just sleep on it, okay?”

They had stopped walking outside her doorway. Trip nodded to the door with his head. “Night.”

“Good night.” She stepped inside and Trip walked away down the corridor towards his quarters, slightly shaking his head, wondering how he managed to marry such a stubborn woman.

Then again, after all, he was stubborn too.

* * *

Around the corner, Malcolm Reed had been waiting for an opportunity to launch onto T’Pol’s door and see if he could find out what was on her mind.

When he saw Tucker and T’Pol walking casually around the corner, he nearly had a cardiac. He thought about the possibility of telling the captain, getting a long-deserved promotion, but the thought disintegrated when he saw no touches between the two people. He knew better than to tell Archer and not have any evidence.

Tucker motioned her inside and took off towards his cabin. Malcolm smirked. In his mind, he considered what he was about to do an interrogation and thought nothing else of it. Interpretation was closed; if anyone saw him it was none of their business.

And the sidearm and hidden weapons he always carried just proved it.

* * *

Hoshi was already inside the mess hall with a cup of coffee when the majority of the senior staff arrived. She knew Travis had gone to sleep almost an hour ago; he was still trying to shake off the sleepiness under his eyes.

Phlox was in Sickbay, and Hoshi didn’t want to speculate about what he had been doing. But he came at the captain’s call and made a cheery face. The communications officer silently wondered why he did that but stayed quiet.

Malcolm Reed had just put down Ulysses when Archer called him, but he looked like he preferred to be reading it still instead of being present here.

Trip Tucker and T’Pol had walked in behind Travis. Tucker was jokingly pushing Travis into the mess hall. T’Pol raised her eyebrow at this, and Trip looked like he was about to explain it but she shook her head.

And oddly enough, even though he was the last person to call the meeting, Archer came in. He and Hoshi were the only ones still on-duty; all the others were either in off-duty clothes or pajamas.

He sat down at the head of one of the tables and allowed the assembled crew to gather drinks and sit as well. Hoshi sat down next to him. She had an inkling feeling of what was going on, and the seat she picked was closest to the door so she could pick up and leave after.

T’Pol got chamomile tea and sat down as well. Tucker, Reed, and Travis sat down in order from T’Pol around another table. Phlox got some weird concoction and sat down opposite Hoshi.

“I just got off with Admiral Gardner,” the captain began. “Starfleet wants to investigate the anomaly more. The Vulcans want to close it up. I wanted your opinions before I decided. T’Pol?”

The senior staff looked at the Vulcan. Her fingers were wrapped around her cup as she replied, “I believe that is it dangerous to leave it open. Your counterpart had expressed an interest in exploring our universe. I support closing it.”

Archer nodded in acknowledgement of her opinion. “Trip.”

The chief engineer glanced at T’Pol. “Much as I hate to, I gotta agree with the Vulcans. We have no idea what could happen if we leave it open. And if we investigate more, we might discover something that, frankly, might not be so pretty.” Trip shrugged, running out of words.

“Malcolm.”

“I’m all for investigating, myself. We might find something that could be beneficial for us.”

“Travis.”

“With all due respect, I’m still asleep, sir. Can you ask someone else?”

Some of the crew smiled and Archer went on to Hoshi. “Any qualms, Hoshi?”

“I’m seeing this 50-50 right now. If we leave it open, they might come through and who knows what would happen. If we close it, how would we do it?”

The crew nodded with the exception of T’Pol. “I believe Commander Tucker is more than capable of finding a method.”

Under his breath, Trip murmured, “Thanks for the complement,” and the others slightly laughed.

Archer smiled. “Phlox?”

The doctor shrugged. “Personally, I support investigating. It’s possible we could benefit after all.”

Archer nodded and looked back to Travis, ready to ask him for his opinion. From the other table, Trip interrupted. “Why does something tell me you’ve already made a decision?”

Archer sighed, and he leaned back in his chair. Hoshi watched him. “I have. Or Starfleet has. They want us to close it up. T’Pol’s report had quite a deal of influence with the brass. Trip, can you come up with a way to close the subspace anomaly?”

The corners of Trip’s mouth turned upwards. “Thought you’d never ask. Yeah, I can whip up something, but can it wait till the morning? Personally, I’m also for some sleep.”

The others nodded in agreement, including Hoshi. “I was off-duty five minutes ago. I think.”

Archer smiled and nodded. “In the morning, I want everyone in the situation room. We’ll run over more possibilities then. Dismissed.”

The majority stood and walked out. Hoshi went to get rid of her drink when she overheard the captain talking to T’Pol. “Commander, can I assume you’ve smoothed over the rumpled feathers with Trip?”

Hoshi bit her lip. There was definitely something going on between those two now; she was sure of it. She pretended not to hear anything as she nodded at them and walked to the door. But, just before the door slid shut, she heard T’Pol utter one word.

“Yes.”

Hoshi fought to suppress a smile, but didn’t succeed.

* * *

T’Pol was standing in her quarters, examining her abdomen in front of her mirror in the bathroom. She expected her figure to bloat significantly in the next few months. In her mind, she knew Trip was right: they had to come up with something else, or their lives were in danger.

Someone rang her bell. She wrapped her robe back around her, wondering why Trip would be at her door instead of not coming in with her earlier.

“Come in.”

And she found Malcolm Reed standing before her, with a sly grin on his face. “Pardon me for intruding.”

T’Pol wondered if the next few minutes would be her last.

* * *

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Jonathan Archer was lying on his bed and thought he heard rustling. It was a shame that Reed had used Porthos as a test subject of how quickly a person would freeze outside the airlock. He was mad at himself for not punishing Reed as a result.

Having Porthos in his quarters would have given him a reason for the rustling.

He pushed himself off the bed and went around to Porthos’ cushion on the floor. He had never moved it; he liked it there. And on his not so good days, he liked having a little reminder of his beagle.

Archer tilted his head to the side. He wondered whether or not he should get another pet.

The door chimed. “Come.”

The person who entered looked at him with a curious, innocent look. “What’s wrong? Missing Porthos?”

On the other hand, he already had another pet.

“Hello, Hoshi.”

Hoshi Sato slinked into his quarters. “What’s wrong?” she repeated.

“Ah, feeling a little lonely tonight.”

“Well, I’m here.”

“I know.” For some reason, however, it didn’t register in his head as all that comforting.

As he was standing by the window, Hoshi lowered herself into the captain’s chair. She had done the decency of wearing a robe, something that she usually forwent. “What’s really wrong?”

“Is there some reason you don’t believe me?”

“With all due respect, I know you. You’re independent and you make decisions, well-aware of the alternatives and of the outcome. I manage to watch you on the Bridge without anyone seeing me. But tonight, there’s something else in there.”

Archer glanced out the window again. Hoshi was right; he wasn’t feeling well. Glancing around the room, he said, “I’ve got a headache or something. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” he said quietly, in a way asking her to go.

Hoshi nodded, and then stood on tiptoe and planted a kiss on his cheek. “In the morning,” she murmured and turned to leave. And then the captain found himself all alone again, wondering what else would go wrong in the night.

* * *

Elsewhere on that Enterprise, Trip Tucker was trying to settle into sleep. And he wasn’t succeeding.

Something was on his mind. It wasn’t the baby; it was T’Pol. He felt something in his mind with regards to her, and that something was worried sick. Very unlike T’Pol, he thought.

He knew that the Vulcans bonded after their marriage ceremonies, but T’Pol had told him that she thought it was impossible. Trip racked his mind for information. Vulcans bonded, mainly, as a convenient way to know when their mate entered pon farr. Trip had done his own estimation; it was one thing she still refused to tell him. He was under the impression that she wouldn’t enter pon farr for another two years.

Trip just knew something was wrong with T’Pol.

And it just couldn’t wait.

* * *

“What is the reason for your visit?”

T’Pol was trying to be as prim and proper as she could. She desperately wished she had done further research into whether or not it was possible for a human and Vulcan to bond. With Reed being here, she felt very uncomfortable. She needed Trip here.

Reed shrugged and slowly advanced. “I noticed the other day on the Bridge you changed your outfit.”

T’Pol was searching her mind. She had not changed; her shift on the Bridge had only been for a little under four hours on the day he was questioning. In truth, she didn’t know what he was talking about; she kept silent.

“I saw Commander Tucker here, right before I came.”

T’Pol didn’t let her eyes show concern. “I had fallen in the turbolift. He simply offered his assistance returning to my quarters.” She sat down at her desk.

“Why had he offered?”

“If you are interested in learning why Commander Tucker offered me assistance, perhaps you should be enquiring of him,” she spun around in her chair, and a touch of anger left with her comment. T’Pol was worried it might give something away.

Reed walked over and sat on her bed. “Frankly, I’m under the suspicion that you and Commander Tucker are more than just crewmates. It’s something you could lose your privileges onboard for.”

“And if you take one more step towards her, you’re gonna lose your privileges,” Trip said from the doorway. He stepped inside into the light and they all clearly saw the phase pistol aimed at the tactical officer.

Reed stood and scoffed. “The tactical teams are under my command.”

“And I outrank you,” Trip said, clearly piqued by the lieutenant’s presence. “I’m serious, Lieutenant. Quit bothering her or I’ll shoot.”

“Commander,” T’Pol said, almost pleading. “Don’t resort to this level.”

“This? This is something I shoulda done a long time ago. It’s about time someone stood up to you, Lieutenant. And keep this in mind. Next time I find you in this position with anybody onboard this ship, I’ll fire and be more than happy to do it.”

Trip’s threat apparently got through, for Reed sulked behind Trip and left the room.

The chief engineer watched the back of Reed’s head till he was gone, and then he went and sat down on her bed. “You okay?” he said, extending his hands.

Her hands were lying in her lap, clasped together. She raised them and let them rest in Trip’s. Clearly shaken, she looked at her husband. “Lieutenant Reed didn’t inflict any physical injuries,” she said as Trip’s gaze drifted to her stomach.

“What about inside your head?” Trip softly asked.

She glanced down. “I believe you were right. We should consider leaving Enterprise. I believe it is too dangerous to continue onboard.”

Trip pulled her chair closer to him. “Okay,” he said, taking her in his arms and holding her, just for a moment. “Okay, we’ll go.”

Being held in her husband’s arms, she suddenly remembered crucial things that had happened over the past four years. After Archer had kidnapped her, she adapted to life as best as she could. Subtlety had obscured Trip’s gestures, on behalf of their safety. Afterwards, T’Pol appreciated it deeply. Trip had too, more so when he asked her to marry him. The least she could do to show her gratitude was say “Yes.” And it was the best decision she had ever made.

* * *

Travis Mayweather was still yawning but less as he walked back slowly to the turbolift. Most of the others had already walked past him; he didn’t care, but right now the memory of how comfortable his bed was took precedence.

Behind him, the doors opened again and he heard soft footsteps pacing to catch up with him. A slender hand caught onto his arm and Hoshi came around his front, laughing near the turbolift. “I know something you don’t want to know. Want to?” she said in a sing-song tone.

“Maybe.”

“There’s something going on between T’Pol and Commander Tucker.”

“Really?” Travis said, pushing the button inside for the turbolift to go to B-deck. “What makes you say that?”

“It’s a woman thing. No offense. That and right when I left, I heard Captain Archer asking if T’Pol and Commander Tucker had smoothed over ruffled feathers. And I heard her say ‘Yes’ to him.”

Travis shrugged. “It doesn’t mean that they’re gonna get together.”

Hoshi shrugged like him. “We’ll see. Night.”

The doors opened and she took off out of the lift first. Travis literally dragged his feet and made it to his quarters, went inside, locked the door, and fell on his bed. He forgot everything that Hoshi had said.

And his bed felt better than he remembered.

* * *

After Trip left T’Pol’s quarters, his mind went to a beach on the Panhandle of Florida. He didn’t let himself explore it more until he had lain down and gone to sleep. He knew it was all in his mind, it was all a dream. But it was the most pleasant thing he had experienced as of late. And the dream was one of his favorites.

When he had been mourning on Earth and T’Pol had come to him, he had been sitting cross-legged on the sand. Discreetly, she walked up to him in a slightly flowing robe. People around didn’t notice that much, although some people were discriminate against aliens because of the Xindi. He was sifting through the sand and looking out at the water, silently wondering why it hadn’t flowed into the long narrow strip of destroyed land the Xindi left behind.

T’Pol moved her hand to his cheek. “You aren’t going to be alone. I’ll help you in any way I can.” In a swift, graceful move, she lifted her head just so slightly and was in the process of giving him a kiss on the cheek when Trip sensed what she was doing and moved his head. He intercepted her lips and so, in the aftermath of a disaster that devastated his world and sitting on a beach that survived, Trip and T’Pol shared their first kiss. If he had known afterwards how difficult it would be on occasion, how weary it would make them, and how evil everything would seem in their lives, he still wouldn’t have taken it back.

And then Trip woke up. He glanced at the clock, and it told him silently that he had only been asleep for three hours. But he remembered the dream. And he wouldn’t have taken it back for anything.

* * *

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Trip Tucker was standing before the mirror in his quarters shaving when the razor went the wrong way and scraped the skin. “Aw, crap, not again,” he said underneath his breath. It was the first time he had done it in a while, but it still irritated the crud out of him.

And then the chime rang too. Hoping it was who he thought it was, he put a bit of water over the cut and said, “It’s open.”

T’Pol walked in and stood by the entrance to the bathroom. With her arms crossed, she went straight to business and asked, “How do you plan on closing the anomaly?”

“And good morning to you too,” Trip said, wiping his face with a towel. It slightly stung as it passed over the cut, but he didn’t let it show through. He turned around to face her and smiled. “Well, I was thinking about using the deflector dish. That’s as far as I got when you came in.”

T’Pol raised her brow. “Fascinating.”

“What?”

“We could use a deflector pulse similar to what we used in the process of destroying Sphere 41,” T’Pol said, and Trip winced from the memory. She turned to walk to the door, adding, “Perhaps we could modify it to close the anomaly.”

Trip shrugged. “You’re the genius. Anyhow, I gotta fix this,” he said, pointing to where he had cut himself.

T’Pol nodded, inclining her head to see. “Do you need help?”

“Nah, I think I have this. It’s okay. I’ll see you on the Bridge.” And he walked back into the bathroom, as this tissue wasn’t holding up well.

She paused by the door. “Commander.”

“Yep?”

“Do you recall when we were working with the Aenar? When you asked me what I was thinking during our assault of Sphere 41?”

Trip walked back out of the bathroom, holding a piece of tissue to his cut. This was too good to pass up. “Yeah, I remember.”

“I was viewing that situation from another point of view. However, I do understand what you were thinking.”

“Oh, ya do, hmm?”

“I was worried about you as well.”

Trip dropped his arm to the side and the piece of tissue stuck to his cut. T’Pol turned away, attempting to hide a little movement at the corner of her mouth, but thanks to the mirror right by the door Trip saw it. He saw her smile, just a bit. “I’ll be on the Bridge, Commander.” She pressed the door panel and walked out to the turbolift.

Trip stood, slightly dumbstruck until the tissue dropped to the floor. Bright red, he picked it up and disposed of it. He glanced to the mirror. The cut had clotted, but it was still red. Oh, well. There are some things you just can’t avoid.

He straightened his neck, finished buttoning his black turtleneck under his blue uniform, and turned aside to look at himself long ways in the mirror. He smoothed out the uniform in front and wondered, just for a brief moment, what his counterpart was doing in that same minute.

Then he dismissed the thought, turned and walked out the door to the turbolift.

* * *

Across the subspace anomaly barrier, another Trip Tucker wondered if he had a counterpart. Right about now, his life was at a point that he could use a swap.

He had a great career on Enterprise. He was the chief engineer and managed not to get killed while doing what he loved. And the love of his life, T’Pol, was also secretly his wife. They were expecting a baby; in another person’s life, nothing could be better.

In his life, nothing could be worse.

The tactical officer, Malcolm Reed, had a feeling about Trip and T’Pol. Frequently, in spite of no evidence, he acted on his “feeling” and it never ended well. After Trip’s threat last night, he was sure that he would be in hiding from Reed for most of the day.

This made two people who openly made moves on T’Pol. Captain Archer, once his best friend but now a cynical man, had tried being nice to her when she came on the Bridge the other day. In his mind, Trip didn’t know whether the captain was just trying to be nice or whether her outfit change had changed his opinion of her.

And Malcolm. In Trip’s mind, he had been shooting darts at Malcolm’s head the moment he saw him hovered over his wife. They went clean through the door as well. He considered mentioning “Hayes” just to irritate the crud out of Reed, but then he reconsidered, knowing that the tactical officer was at fault for Major Hayes’ death in the Expanse.

Trip sighed, and then straightened his neck to get the kinks out of it. Last night, even with the dream, he hadn’t slept well. He had been too concerned about T’Pol. From now on, he had to act as though he knew nothing about T’Pol.

He wondered what his counterpart knew about his T’Pol, whether they even knew each other, whether they were married or not, whether they were even alive.

And at that moment, Trip was glad for everything he had.

* * *

Walking to the turbolift without Trip that morning, which she hadn’t expected, T’Pol stood straightly and walked slowly. Subconsciously, she wondered what was going on in her counterpart’s life at this moment. If she knew the truth about what was going on, T’Pol would have been scared out of her mind.

Inside of her, she was happy. She was glad she didn’t know.

Behind her, she heard pacing footsteps trying to catch up with her. Someone tapped her on her shoulder, saying rather close to her ear, “Ya waiting on me?”

She stopped walking. “Inadvertently.”

Trip smiled and walked alongside her. T’Pol found herself slightly speechless, but thankfully he had been prepared as well and began discussing his plans for sealing the anomaly with a deflector pulse. When they reached the turbolift, Trip paused and looked at her. “So, what do ya think? Could it work?”

“I believe the correct version of that question is, will the captain agree to it?” she shot back as the turbolift opened.

Trip shrugged and prodded her inside, pushing the button for the Bridge. “I think he will.” He reached into his pocket for a padd he had hidden earlier in their discussion and glanced it over. “I’ve got everything listed on here,” he said as he handed it to her.

She took hold of the padd and suddenly her hand went to the emergency button. The turbolift shuddered, and Trip looked at T’Pol. “What happened? You okay?”

She lowered her voice. “It has become increasingly apparent to me that I am beginning to lose my emotional control.”

“T’Pol, I kinda figured that out a while ago,” Trip mentioned to her. “We all did.”

She shook her head. “When Phlox was kidnapped, I performed a mind-meld with Ensign Sato to help her recall the memory of who attacked them. Captain Archer helped to guide me. When he suggested I lower my emotional control, I did so but something hasn’t been right since then.”

Trip shrugged, but his knowledge in the field was near zero. “You hadn’t ever conducted a mind-meld before then, right?”

“Before the Kir’Shara was discovered, mind-melds were almost considered taboo,” she answered. “Something happened when I was . . .” The memory of Tolaris came over her like a cold wave of water, and it scared her. Yet, she knew that if she was ever to open up to Trip, she would have to start someplace. “I was forced into a mind-meld when we encountered the group of Vulcans who accepted emotion as a part of their lives.”

Trip’s eyes opened wide, but before he could think of anything to say, T’Pol continued. “And as a result, I contacted Pa’nar Syndrome. It’s another facet of Vulcan culture which was considered taboo until the Kir’Shara was found by Captain Archer. My Pa’nar Syndrome was healed by a mind-meld with T’Pau, and it is no longer considered a stigma.”

Trip sunk against a wall. “T’Pol, why didn’t you ever tell me any of this? I mean, I realize some of it happened a few years ago but still, why?”

Quietly, again she replied, “I was afraid. And along with the Kir’Shara I was still afraid that you wouldn’t take it the proper way.”

“What’s to take the wrong way?” Trip asked, throwing his arms up in the air. “I mean, in a literal sense you were date-raped mentally and then you just never told me anything. T’Pol, I care about you. I have a right to be mad.”

“Trip, it happened in the past. Personally, many things that happened in my past I have not told you. As a result, you have not told me many things about you.”

Trip paused against the wall again. “So when are we going to start?”

His question had no answer at the moment. After five seconds, T’Pol replied, “I started when I told you about my Pa’nar Syndrome. I believe that after this shift, we can continue the discussion we started last night and incorporate some of this information into it.”

The engineer glanced around the turbolift and sighed. “All right, if that’s what you want.”

“If I don’t talk about this, my emotional control will dissipate. I assume that is something you wish not to happen.”

Trip nodded and T’Pol unlocked the emergency button. In less than a few seconds, the turbolift opened at the Bridge and many crewmen stood looking. One of them was Malcolm Reed. “Are you all right?”

Trip shrugged. “Yeah. Why?”

“Well, according to your console, the turbolift was stuck for nearly three minutes. We were a bit worried,” Reed said emphatically.

Trip and T’Pol glanced between each other, and then in the same second, in the same tone, both replied, “We’re fine.”

In the center seat, Jonathan Archer repressed a smirk. T’Pol noticed; she would have a conversation with him later.

* * *

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

As the only Vulcan on Enterprise, much less the only alien to these people, it was hard to manage. Yet she found she had with Trip’s help and therefore, life over the past four years was easier. After all, she had been on an Earth ship 81 times longer than any other Vulcan. Despite her lack of emotional control at the hands of Archer’s and Reed’s interrogations, any other Vulcan had only survived on an Earth ship for three weeks.

So T’Pol was standing in front of the mirror, adjusting her outfit for the day when a chime rang to her quarters. She didn’t know who it was, considering that Trip was in Engineering already and Captain Archer had told her, for some odd reason, to take the day off.

“Come in.”

Dr. Erica Coleman quickly entered her quarters. “I know you weren’t planning on going anywhere today, so I brought you this.” She pulled a hypospray out of her pocket. “It’s just hormone supplements and the like. Figured you might need it,” she added.

T’Pol sat on the bed. “Thank you, Doctor.”

Coleman pressed it to T’Pol’s neck, disposed of the serum, and inserted it back into her pocket. “So, are you experiencing any symptoms yet?”

“None. However, I believe that in pregnancy, none are expected for the first two months. I am only six weeks along.”

Coleman crossed her arms, and T’Pol could tell she was joking. But she was also interested in this. “So how come all of a sudden you know more about this than me?”

Even though the doctor was joking, T’Pol went ahead and replied, “When a Vulcan female becomes pregnant, meditation is occasionally spent trying to connect with the unborn child. During meditation last night, I sensed the child’s presence within me.”

“Interesting. Have you and Commander Tucker made any arrangements yet?”

“What arrangements are there to be made?” T’Pol asked, looking up to Coleman and appearing completely innocent.

Coleman nodded, as she or any other crew were always unlikely targets of surveillance or covert listening stations. “Point taken. Anyhow, I’ll see you later. Have to make the rounds. And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Thank you.”

Coleman nodded and stepped back into the corridor.

T’Pol glanced at the floor. If Archer didn’t need her on the Bridge, then perhaps she would spend it meditating. So she lowered herself cross-legged back to the floor and closed her eyes.

* * *

Captain Archer stood and looked at his two senior officers. “Trip, have you come up with a plan?”

He glanced at the science officer, holding the padd. “Yeah.” T’Pol held the padd and walked behind Trip to the situation room, and the other senior officers followed them. “It’s a bit complicated, but it’s a takeoff of what we did to Sphere 41.”

Archer nodded at him to start.

Trip nodded and pulled up his information. “It pretty much involves using the deflector. It shouldn’t be much of a problem, since we won’t have the anomalous gases and the Sphere Builders.” Trip ran his hands over the console, pulling up schematics that had been loaded off the padd.

Next to him, T’Pol slightly shifted. Around the table, many of the crewmembers had bad memories. Hoshi and Malcolm had been with Archer on Degra’s ship when Sphere 41 was destroyed; Trip, T’Pol, Travis, and Phlox were all on the Bridge and ergo all together witnessed the scaly dermatologi•cal effects. From what Archer had heard, it itched horribly.

Trip glanced sideways at T’Pol, smiled, and then pointed at another schematic. “If we fire the deflector controls for seven minutes at this rate,” he said, maneuvering the controls again, “it should seal the anomaly permanently.”

Archer nodded; Trip frequently had the best ideas for problems. He had saved Enterprise when the Klingons attempted to override the engineering protocols, and with T’Pol working alongside him they easily solved problems. Silently, Archer wondered why they used to have such trouble getting along.

“All right. How long will it—”

“Captain, maybe it’s just me but the last time I tried this, all the systems on Enterprise got fried within an inch of their lives,” Trip said, interrupting.

T’Pol skewered him with a glare. “Last time this was attempted, Mr. Tucker, we had two other forces at work against us.”

Trip sighed loudly, and then, “I’ll have to give it a power-boost at the end of the pulse to close the seal, and that should do the trick.”

“Questions?” Archer propositioned to the senior staff.

Travis nodded. “One. Will this have any effect on the warp coils, if you have to reroute power like last time?”

Trip bit his lip. “Ah, man. Thanks for mentioning that. I hadn’t even thought of it. If that happens, the warp coils will fail and so will our disguise. If you’ll excuse me, Captain,” Trip said as he pushed away from the table, “I need to get down to Engineering and fix this so the other ship doesn’t know what is going on.”

“Do you need some help?” Archer asked.

“I could use T’Pol’s assistance.”

T’Pol retreated to the turbolift with Trip and descended to Engineering. Archer said, “Dismissed,” and the others scattered to their stations. As they did, he only hoped nothing else would go wrong.

Inwardly he repressed a slight grimace. He realized that was the understatement of the mission.

* * *

A different Enterprise that couldn’t see through the anomaly was motionless on the other side. In its Armory, Malcolm Reed was doing his weekly count to keep his mind off of other matters.

He couldn’t deny what had happened last night; Commander Tucker pointing a phase pistol at him with a valid threat was somewhat intriguing, least of all it was worrisome. By his nature, Commander Charles Tucker the Third was never threatening anybody. In spite of his lack of it, he still managed to stay onboard. Alive and well.

Malcolm shook it off. He couldn’t figure it out, so he let it go. For all of three seconds.

He took a covert glance around the Armory. Perkins was cataloging the contents of the upper lever storage locker, and the new ensign under him – oh, what was her name, Kowalski – was on her way out of the Armory towards the Mess Hall. Remembrance of Section 31 was coming over him; the tactical officer allowed himself a sly smile and then opened the computer records to that of the chief engineer.

He scanned his Starfleet profile. Most of it was stuff he already knew: Born in Florida. The accent gave it away. Marital status: single. Reed shook his head, wondering. Tucker never acted like a skirt chaser. But then again, Malcolm didn’t either.

He kept going, looking at jobs that his different commanding officers had inserted over the fifteen years that Tucker had been in Starfleet. Behind him, another set of doors opened and Malcolm calmly hit another switch and closed the file.

“Are you busy, Lieutenant?”

Malcolm turned around and stroked his chin, ticking off the captain. “Not at all, sir.”

Archer narrowed his eyes at Malcolm and glared at him. But seeing as how the captain had no sidearm and the tactical officer had one and some hidden, the lieutenant won over. “I’m slightly worried about Commander Tucker.”

Outside, Malcolm pretended to be interested, but inside he was concocting a quick scheme. Perhaps last night would work to his advantage. “What about him, sir?”

“Have you noticed how Trip seems to have just gotten over his sister’s death, just like that?” Archer said, snapping his fingers. Malcolm nodded and let the captain continue. “When my father died, it took me a long time to move on. Some on the crew even think I haven’t.”

“I’ve noticed, sir. In fact, I’ve reported on it.”

“Then maybe you can help me. Do you know of anything Trip might be involved in that would be altering his state of mind?”

Malcolm was about to grin and present details of last night’s incident with Tucker until Archer interrupted. “And I need evidence. Trip is my friend. I don’t want him to be unfairly accused of anything if he is innocent.”

An arrow shot from a hidden location into Malcolm’s mind. His dreams for the morning were dashed, and the only thing he could do was nod his head. “I’ll look into it, sir.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. I also need the weaponry report by noontime. Can you do that?”

Reed nodded again and the captain turned around and left. Suddenly, Malcolm began to wonder: where did Tucker get that phase pistol from?

He turned back to the ladder. “Perkins!”

Zach Perkins, a fit young man, came down the ladder towards Reed. Clearly, he knew what the consequences were otherwise. “Sir.”

“Have you found any phase pistols missing or dislodged?” Reed asked, seeming to be completely uninterested while looking at a padd.

“Not yet, sir. However, I haven’t completed my recording yet. I should be done in half an hour.”

“Let me know immediately if any are missing or dislodged. Do you understand?”

“Missing or dislodged. I’ve got it.”

“Dismissed.”

Perkins turned around and descended off the balcony-like ledge. Malcolm smiled to himself; this gave him someone to find the weapon Tucker used on him last night and it also gave him time to pay T’Pol another visit to help him prove last night’s threat in her quarters.

Sometimes life was too kind.

Part 4 (Chapters 16-20)

Return to Part 2 (Chapters 6-10)

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Half a dozen of you have made comments

Interesting storyline - I sure as heck hope Darkside Tri'Pol keep each other and their pending Tri'Pol-et/ette safe. That Malcolm's such a baddie, here! Paranoia will destroy ya... looking forward to more...

I can't wait for more!!!!!!
This fic gets better and better!!!!!!

Dang! That ended too fast. I can't wait for more! This is great stuff!

This is sooooooo good! Can't wait for more, such a good story! :)

WOW great update!! :)
Cant wait for the next one.
Im kinda hoping that the MU T/T run for the rift and come through and stay with the real universe. No evil Malcom and Captain to stop them.

People I rally liked this one, I don't leave many comments coz you don't really find very many long long fanfics here like with some other fanfic genres I have read. But this one has a lot of character development and the romances are adorable already. PLEASE MAKE THIS A LONG ONE because I think it would turn out brilliantly. ( Also make it an R at the very least) LOVED IT!!!