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Of All...Times- Ch. 2

Author - Eratta
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Of All the Times, Places, and People!

By Eratta

PG-13, General
Disclaimer

Chapter Two

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Archer drummed his fingers against the armrest of his chair. Things were not going well. And for the first time since their launch almost two years before, he was without his two most senior officers. Normally, he and T'Pol or he and Trip would get kidnapped or stranded somewhere. But this time, those two were the stranded ones! And he didn't like having to organize a rescue without Trip's moral support or T'Pol's surprisingly useful logic. He tried not to think about it too much, but little things reminded him of their absence. The gentle hum of the impulse engine, for example. Or the lack of sensor updates. T'Pol ALWAYS was sending him the latest data. He was sure she was aware that he hardly ever gave it more than a casual glance; trusting her to alert anything important or unusual to him in person. But still, the lack of those updates was disquieting. Putting the worrisome thoughts out of his head, he turned to his communications officer, who had been pulling a double shift since the shuttlepod's disappearance.

Hoshi was leaning back in her chair, eyes half closed as she listened to the sounds of dead space. Behind her, a young ensign with a background in astrophysics was manning T'Pol's science consol. The thought of the quiet Vulcan was enough to send a wave of guilt through her, making her relive the terrifying moments over and over. The shuttle's disappearance had shown up on the sensors, but there hadn't been enough time to do anything about it. She hadn't even been able to clear the static from the emergency channel. And suddenly, the pod was off sensors and visual, hurtling towards a nearby planet. Immediately she had begun a sophisticated scan, searching for the pod's signature. But it would be hours before anything turned up, if at all.

Archer looked sympathetically at the little Asian woman. He knew that look all too well. She had been the senior officer on the bridge at the time of the problem, and he knew that she hadn't stopped berating herself since.

"Hoshi," he called softly, startling her out of the half-trance of misery and worry.

"Yes, sir?"

"Why don't you call it a day? You've been up here for two shifts. There's nothing we can do until the scans find the pod."

Hoshi's large, almond shaped eyes smarted, and she took a calming breath before replying,

"I prefer to keep working, sir. Otherwise, I feel that I haven't done my very best."

Her captain gave her a little half smile. Hoshi always had liked how he had that disarming smile. It told you that he wasn't blaming you, and that he knew how you felt.

"That's my point, Ensign. You've done your best and there's nothing you can do until the scans are complete. So stop worrying and get some rest."

Hoshi hesitated for a moment, trying to decide what the most professional thing to do was. Finally, she returned his little smile and left the bridge. Archer leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He probably wouldn't take his own advice, but at least he had been able to make her feel better.

"Sir." The young ensign at the science station ventured. He was a young man, but he looked and acted 10 years older. Subtly scrutinizing his face, Archer remembered his name. Thomas O'Connor: the astrophysics whiz kid. He was one of the youngest of Enterprise's crew, and one of the most intelligent and highly qualified. With a height of 6'3" and a large frame, he wasn't the typical math nerd. His jet-black hair was neatly combed and his well-proportioned face was clean-shaven. But it wasn't his looks that gave him an air of grave, studied maturity. It was the way he carried himself, the tone of his voice, and the self-assurance that seemed to permeate everyone around him. Archer's sources told him that a vast majority of the crew had come to regard O'Connor as a father-type figure; he was the person that everyone went to for advice. He was also T'Pol's primary assistant.

"Yes?"

"If I may speak plainly sir, maybe you should take your own advice."

Archer smiled. Not only was this kid smart, he was observant too. No wonder T'Pol had chosen him to be her stand-in.

"I'm not worried, Ensign." He replied nicely, catching Thomas' eye. What the whiz kid did next almost sent him into a fit of laughter. He actually gave him the look affectionately dubbed, 'the T'Pol'. His eyebrow wasn't raised, but it definitely was that half amused, half serious expression that revealed that the wearer knew better, but was going to be diplomatic and go along with it. The kid had actually picked up her patented look! Suppressing the laughs, he continued,

"Commander Tucker's one of the best pilots in the fleet and an amazing engineer, and T'Pol is probably the most intelligent person I know. They're safe from almost anything the universe can throw at them."

"Except each other." Countered O'Connor knowingly, black eyes twinkling. He had heard his share of the gossip surrounding the famous conflicts between the two remarkably stubborn individuals, not to mention actually witnessing quite a few of them.

Archer shook his head. That was probably truer than anything else. While he knew much of their previous 'encounters' had evolved into friendly banter, he knew that each could simultaneously provoke the other and return to earlier attitudes. He sincerely hoped they would reach them in time before they succumbed to the temptation to kill each other.

Behind him, Ensign O'Connor smiled to himself. The captain did seem much more at ease. He made a mental note to tell the Vulcan the next time he saw her. It seemed that her methods were tried and true!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The following morning, Trip woke to the feeling of dank, squishy turf beneath him and an aching back. For a moment, he couldn't remember what had happened, and wondered how he had come to be in the Florida Everglades again. And then he caught sight of T'Pol fiddling with the emergency beacon, and it all came back to him. Including his plan to prove to her that he could in fact stay awake all night. Damn.

"Good Morning." She said quietly, not even looking up from her work.

Trip sat up with a groan and rubbed his back until the pain lessened. Maybe if he pretended that they had never argued about shifts, she would leave it alone.

"Mornin'" he mumbled back, a bit sheepishly.

"I trust you slept well?" There was no mockery in her tone, only polite concern.

"Well enough." He said, inspecting his ankle. He had to hand it to his insistent companion; she had done a good job. The swelling had gone down and it wasn't nearly as painful as it had been the day before.

"How are your injuries?" She asked, looking up for the first time. Trip noticed faint perspiration on her brow, and wondered how uncomfortable she must be in that skin-tight excuse for a uniform. His gaze traveled to her eyes, and he was astonished at how green they were today. There had always been a faint greenish tint to them, but it had never been this pronounced before. Momentarily lost in the pool of emerald, he could scarcely remember what she had asked. Tearing his eyes away, he took stock of himself. His chest still hurt when he inhaled too deeply, but other than that, he was okay.

"Better than they were yesterday." He replied with a rueful grin.

"How 'bout you? Are you still feelin' alright?" he asked in return, getting up to rummage in the food bin for their breakfast.

"I am fine." She lied smoothly. Inwardly, she was slightly alarmed at how easily the lie came, but she knew it was the logical course of action. To tell the excitable man that she was having an increasingly hard time breathing was simply unacceptable. There was nothing they could do about it; even if they knew what the problem was (she had scanned herself several times, each with no result) and it would only worry him. She would simply have to conceal it for as long as possible. Putting the beacon away, she turned towards his offering of a granola bar, and graciously accepted it. Tucker sat across from her, gazing contemplatively at the beacon.

"So," he said through a mouthful of oats and dried fruit, "Any luck?"

"No. I was not trying to repair it."

He looked puzzled and surprised "Then what were you doin'?"

"I was merely occupying myself. I find the study of areas outside my expertise to be both stimulating and useful."

He looked dubious, but at the same time, pleased. T'Pol had never actually expressed a actual interest in anything non-work related, to his knowledge. Who would've guessed? A happy grin spread across his unshaven face, and T'Pol felt herself succumb to the easiness he exuded. Regardless of the pointlessness of such an act, she felt that this was one of the few occasions in which she could be allowed to slightly relax her guard. Tucker was no threat, and she was feeling slightly weary. Surely there could be nothing wrong with fostering a stronger (though still entirely professional) relationship with him.

"Really? I had no idea! What do you study?"

"A variety of things: tactics, logistics, philosophy, and quantum engineering, to name a few."

Trip suppressed a wry smile and ventured, "I never woulda put you down fer an engineerin' girl."

"Why not?"

"I dunno," he shrugged. "Guess I never thought you'd be the type."

"What . . . would you say denotes an engineer?" T'Pol parried, genuinely interested. This was another example of the Commander's 'gut instinct'. She had noticed that humans tended to categorize others based on various impressions, which may or may not always be based on facts. Interestingly, she had never really known what his instincts were about her.

Trip squirmed, trying to put his thoughts into words. After a few seconds, he gave up and waved his large hand in defeat.

"I can't really explain it. I have this . . . this thing where I feel that a person belongs to a certain group. I never figured you for MY group, even if the study of engineerin' is a hobby of yours."

She regarded him for a moment, and turned her head slightly. The turn signaled that she was confused. Trip was caught up in her eyes again, and was vaguely aware that his breathing had become shallower. T'Pol didn't even blink as she softly replied,

"What would you think if I told you that I once considered engineering for my career?"

Trip's mouth dropped. What had she just said? Did she actually say . . . no, it couldn't be; she couldn't be serious . . . could she?

Finally, he managed to choke out, "Wha . . ., *ahem* what did you say?"

He look was a cross between satisfaction and amusement, and despite the fact that she was a cold, untouchable Vulcan, Trip's heart skipped a beat. What was going on with him? 'C'mon, Trip' he admonished himself, 'this is T'Pol! The woman you could hardly look at two years ago without getting' angry!' Yet, a very small part of his shocked mind whispered, 'two years is a long time, and people change.' The battle that was about to be waged within him was abruptly halted as the lovely woman spoke again.

"I said I once seriously considered engineering for my career."

Trip leaned towards her. His curiosity had been piqued; there was no turning back now.

"Why didn't you?"

T'Pol turned her face away for a moment, and Trip unconsciously mourned the lost of the sight of her exquisite eyes. Then, he noticed that a strange expression was coming over her; one he had never seen before. Long seconds passed as he anxiously awaited her answer, but she seemed to have entirely forgotten that he was there. She had a far-away gaze that was absolutely riveting, in the engineer's opinion. When she answered his query, he voice was hushed, as if she might break the invisible image manifesting before her mind's eye if she spoke too loud.

"All my life, I have admired my father. He was my earliest role model, and he is a quantum engineer. As a child, I would watch him work for hours, simply learning through observation. When I was old enough, he began to teach me all he knew about his field. As the time drew closer for me to choose the path on which the rest of my life would be based, it became a choice between physical science and engineering."

"What made you choose science?" Trip breathed, eyes wide with captivation.

At the sound of his voice, T'Pol was brought out of her memory. She realized that she had shared a very intimate part of her life with the emotional human, and was unsure if such an action was wise. But at the site of him, she knew beyond a doubt that his intentions were . . . good, harmless. She couldn't quite explain it to herself, but somehow she knew that she could trust him with this; that he would treat it with the same respect she did.

"I chose science because I realized that I didn't want to lead my father's life. To be true to myself, I needed to pursue the interest that held the most fascination, not the most intimate attachment." She finished solemnly. Trip was silent, and finally nodded, signifying his understanding. A quiet, comfortable moment passed between them, but was son broken by the particularly grating sound of a bird's call. Trip winced and T'Pol's face regained it's normally placid expression.

Trip stood and offered her a hand, grinning slightly.

"Guess we should get a move on if we wanna make good time."

"Indeed. I suggest we take only the bare minimum and put in into our packs."

He nodded and began to move their precious few materials into the sturdy backpacks as T'Pol felt a tightening in her chest. She was short of breath for a few seconds, and then was able to breathe somewhat normally again. But the pressure she had been feeling beneath her ribs had increased, and despite her training and logic, T'Pol could not help feeling a growing sense of dread and apprehension.

A/N Continued: Okay, there's chapter two. What do you guys think? Shall I keep going? Eh, it doesn't really matter, because even if you say 'no', I will anyway ;) Still, any and all feedback is a necessary part of any author's diet. That means you should click on the little but in the bottom left corner and leave a review!!!


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Eight hardy souls have made comments

KEEP WRITING! It is a wonderful story so far and you are showing a side of them thats very interesting. No bickering, some self-reflection and a potential disaster lead to a very good story line basis. Good work!

I agree!!!! This story has such potential and a couple of shippiness moments but the fact that T'Pol won't mention her hard time breathing is making me wonder what will happen next. How will it bring her and Trip closer together, how their relationship will change. Things like that. Keep working on it.

Great story, great setting. T'Pol as an engineer; she would have made a good one. :-)
Keep on writing. :-)

I am really enjoying this story, it is shaping up nicely though I am worried about T'Pol's breathing difficulties. Is it something in the alien atmosphere or did she sustained hitherto unrealised internal injuries? As for asking us if you should continue the story. Tut, tut. Never start a story you don't intend to finish. We are hanging on the words yet to come. Loving it all so far, well done! Ali D :~)

Hey, thanks everyone for reviewing! This story has been floating around in my brain for about 6 months, so its good to finally get it written down, posted and reviewed.

I'm glad you're enjoying it, and I'll tell you this: this is not going to be an exremely long fic, and things become a little more dire soon. As for T'Pol's problem breathing, it's a key factor to the story, but I won't tell you what's causing it. You'll simply have to read the rest when I get around to writing it!

thanks again for reviewing!

Always,

Aratte

I great start to a story! And I love O'Conner. a great Original there. Of course you should finish this story! How can you leave us all hanging? :) What's up with T'Pol's breathing problem? We need to know.

I great start to a story! And I love O'Conner. a great Original there. Of course you should finish this story! How can you leave us all hanging? :) What's up with T'Pol's breathing problem? We need to know.

I great start to a story! And I love O'Conner. a great Original there. Of course you should finish this story! How can you leave us all hanging? :) What's up with T'Pol's breathing problem? We need to know.