Of All...Times- Ch. 4

Of all the Times, Places, and People!

By Eratta

Part Four

PG-13, General
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Paramount

It was late, but that meant nothing to the two ensigns working quietly on the bridge. O'Connor and Sato were now working on the problem of isolating one human and one Vulcan bio-sign on the planet, and it wasn't going very well. Actually, the work was mind-numbingly slow, and there was no better way to do it than by hand. Thus, they had split up the large area of land surrounding the crash site and were methodically sorting through each and every bio sign. Needless to say, a tropical planet had hundreds of life forms within every square meter.

Hoshi sighed and straightened, arching her cramped back in her seat. Reaching a small hand up to massage her neck, she briefly turned around to look at her partner. His dark head was bent over the science consol the same way it had been for the past four hours. From what she could tell, it seemed that he hadn't moved a muscle since starting. Privately, she marveled at his concentration.

"How are you doing?" Came a soft voice from behind her. Hoshi jumped in her seat and whipped around to glare at him.

"I was fine until a moment ago! Don't scare me like that!"

His head lifted to hers, and she could see his jet-colored eyes laughing as his mouth turned into a shy smile. Hoshi scrutinized his face for a split second. Having never had the opportunity to get to know Thomas very well, she had been given a run-down of his personality by some other women soon after their initial launch. He was a genius like her, but he didn't ever seem to be unsure of himself, as she sometimes was. And though he was younger than she, he seemed older in almost every respect.

"Sorry." He replied. Hoshi decided that she like his voice, somewhere between a baritone and a bass, with a lovely deep quality that resonated in her audio-oriented brain. She sighed and tugged at the ponytail that held her long ebony locks in place. She ran her fingers through it, futilely attempting to banish the headache that was forming.

"Any luck?" She asked him, eyes closed in a moment of self-indulgence.

Thomas frowned. "None at all." This was beyond frustrating and at this rate; they would never isolate the bio-signs, particularly if the two superior officers were moving. He looked carefully at Hoshi, weighing into consideration what he knew of her character. He wanted to be sure that she would back him up on what he was about to propose.

"Listen," he began, moving quietly to her side. At the tone of his voice and his proximity, Hoshi perked up. A tone like that almost always meant a plan or gossip. In this case, she was willing to bet it was a plan. The question was: why was he being secretive about it?

"We'll never get anywhere if we keep doing this all by hand." He told her, purposefully leaving the end open.

A slight frown marred the Asian woman's porcelain face.

"But the sensors take just as long if not longer, not to mention they make it almost impossible to monitor anything else. What else can we do?"

"We need to do a little upgrading." He told her seriously.

Hoshi looked closely at his face with mild suspicion. He was beginning to sound like Malcolm combined with Trip, and from what she had seen that usually was a recipe for trouble. She glanced around the room (unnecessary as it was, being the graveyard shift) and lowered her voice to a level that matched his.

"What kind of upgrading?"

"You said our sensors can't handle this kind of thing."

"Yeah?"

"I bet a Vulcan one could."

Hoshi sat back in her seat, the expression in her eyes doubtful.

"There wouldn't be any specifications in the database. Where would you get the information?"

The other ensign didn't move a muscle. He said nothing, and simply let Hoshi figure it out for herself. When she did, her eyes grew round as saucers and in a horrified voice she whispered,

"Are you insane?! You can't go through her things! You could get court- martialed!"

"Who's to say she would know?" He asked pointedly, narrowing his black eyes at her. Hoshi gulped and resolutely retorted,

"She wouldn't hear it from me, but if I know that SubCommander, she would know just by looking at us."

"O'Connor swiveled around and grabbed a PADD off the consol. When he turned back, he was grinning.

"You're still scared of her, aren't you?"

"I am not, but I've heard some pretty amazing things about Vulcans when they're angry." She retorted hotly. She did not like this idea at all.

He gave her a look that would have made her knees quiver if she wasn't so shocked. "Hoshi," he began soothingly, "I swear on my little sister's life that if she does find out, I will take sole responsibility."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her with a hand. Suddenly, she felt like a twelve-year old in her school counselor's office.

"If she does find out, which she may in time, it will only be logical that she blame me because I'm her second and I'm the only one who knows where to find the information. I saw the specs in a book when we were going over some astrophysics theories."

"But regulations . . . we really shouldn't . . ."

"This is the only way and you know it Hoshi. If we don't find them soon, T'Pol isn't going to make it."

Hoshi briefly remembered something about T'Pol being injured, but she didn't have a chance to ask for further clarification. Instead, she listened to the rest of the plan.

"By doing it behind the Captain's back, we don't risk letting the Vulcan technology get out. I will be the only one to install, use it and uninstall it. All I need you to do is read a few pages out of the text. Then I'll analyze the findings and we'll have them back onboard in a few hours. Will you do it, Hoshi?"

Once he was finished, he didn't push her to answer right away. This plan was a last resort, but it had become clear to him that it was the only option they had left. And if he was going to go down, he wanted to drag as little people with him as possible. He would see to it that Hoshi wouldn't get in trouble for her part. Finally, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. When she was done, she raised her almond-shaped eyes to his, and set her mouth in a tight line.

"Let's get to it."

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

Now that Trip knew T'Pol was sick, he wasn't going to let her do any more than was absolutely necessary. They had traveled about twenty kilometers that day, and he was happy to report that his ankle was on the mend as were his ribs. Realizing that they would never reach the mountain range, they settled for a very large hill. They were currently resting at the base of it.

Throughout the day, they had seen signs of some very large carnivores. There were tracks wider than the engineer's considerable hand-span and they had decided not to take any chances tonight. They made camp early, and Trip was able to construct a pyre, which would give off considerable light and heat for a good ten hours or so. Hopefully, it would keep the animals away.

Watching the blaze and listening to the silence of the woods, Trip retreated into that familiar place of his childhood. Whenever he had accomplished some feat of basic engineering, he used to stare at it, simply admiring it. It was a natural high, and it always made him feel like he had a place in the world. There was nothing more comforting than knowing you were good at something useful. But this time his admiration was abruptly cut short as a series of coughs erupted from a nearby tree.

T'Pol had been sitting there quietly since they had stopped for the day, and was no longer able to mask the coughs. Since her admission, she had worked harder to conceal her difficulty. But with each kilometer or so, she could feel the pressure building beneath her ribs. Her heart pounded in her head, and the coughs erupted from her with a severity that made it impossible to concentrate. Whenever she had an attack, she would cough and heave for long seconds, gasping for breath with a desperation born of fear and helplessness.

When it seemed that she would never breathe again, the coughs lessoned, and she heaved hard for a good time after. She knew Tucker was close to frantic with worry, but his efforts to conceal it did not go unnoticed. He had been quiet and helpful; allowing her a measure of dignity after her confession. It was most uncharacteristic; she had expected him to pump her for information, make her sit immobilized until he could think of something to do, or a number of other things. Instead, he barely commented on her situation, and had ended up helping her towards the end of their day's journey. He had constructed a pyre, set water boiling, and had scouted the area while she sat in the trunk of a tree and shivered, trying to keep the attacks from taking her. She doubted that he would ever know how much she appreciated his presence.

"It's getting' worse, isn't it?" He questioned softly, still turned away from her.

It was the first time he'd spoken in over an hour. It had not been easy, but he was willing to make himself be silent if it made her more comfortable. And he could tell that she was getting worse by the minute. She had stopped arguing with him and had even let him help her for a kilometer or two. He could see how hard she struggled, and it tore him up inside. T'Pol, the insufferable, unconquerable Vulcan ice queen was slowly being choked to death. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. He couldn't even comfort her the way he would a human. Any attempts at telling her that it wasn't that bad or that it would be all right would be shot down to hell by her intellect. He couldn't make small talk, or hold her, or anything. He had never felt so damn helpless in his whole life.

"Yes." She replied. Her voice was haggard, and turning towards her he could see her leaning back against the tree trunk, breathing slowly and shallowly with very precise movements. They both knew that if she breathed deeply she would be sent into another fit.

He came to crouch beside her, once again closer than she would normally allow him. But this time, she didn't have the strength to move away, and she wouldn't risk speaking to him. Besides, she reasoned, his presence was soothing, and it was logical to do anything that would provide her some temporary comfort. She turned her face to his, studying the worry lines that had recently formed. She held her breath as he tentatively reached out a hand.

Surprisingly, it was relatively dry, given their conditions. He laid the back of it across her forehead, and pursed his lips. She was hotter than any person he had ever known, but her temperature was normally higher than a human's anyway. Still, he doubted that Vulcans were always this warm.

"I think you've got a fever." He told her gravely.

"I know." She whispered back, shivering against the breeze that blew past them. He frowned and fetched the blankets from their pack. Wasting no time and not hesitating, he wrapped them securely around her. T'Pol didn't protest. When he was satisfied that she was bundled up securely, he reached for the hot water. He poured some into a cup and let it cool before holding it to her lips.

"Here, you should drink this."

"I can -" She began, taking a hand out of the blankets. Trip gently pushed it back, eyes gentle as he persisted. Finally, she relented and allowed him to tip the hot liquid down her throat. Thankfully she didn't choke. After she thanked him, Trip gave her a little grin.

"I just wish it was tea."

She regarded him curiously. Trip sighed and ran a hand through his hair as the fire crackled behind him.

"Your structure works well." She commented quietly. Trip glanced back at her, not able to help the full-fledged grin that spread across his unshaven face.

"Well, now I've heard it all." He said, folding his arms. "Miss High n' Mighty herself actually complimenting me. Never thought I'd see the day."

He expected her to raise an eyebrow, but when she didn't, his grin vanished. What had he done wrong?

"Hey," he offered softly. "I'm sorry."

"If anyone is to apologize, it should be me." She told him flatly, eyes flickering in the light. Even in an incapacitated state, she could still surprise him. "It was never my intention to make you feel that your work is less than exemplary."

Trip's jaw dropped at that one. Hell; that was the basis of their entire relationship! She dissed him, he quipped back and so on. Even now, though more subdued, they still took wisecracks at each other. Trip personally found it pretty entertaining! And now she was saying that she had never meant to offend him?

"Are ya serious?" he demanded incredulously.

"You know perfectly well, Commander that I am always serious." She deadpanned. Then, more softly she added, "And I apologize for making you believe that I dismissed your work."

"You mean," he tried again to clarify what he had just heard. "You actually think I'm a good engineer?"

There was a hint of a smile in her eyes as she replied, "As I told you, I spent a good deal of time with engineers. I know a talent when I see it."

Trip just stared at her for what seemed an eternity. Was this really possible? Jesus, they might even be on the path to friendship! Who woulda guessed it?! When his mind returned to the present, Trip noticed that T'Pol was staring at him too. He felt a flush creep up his neck and cleared is throat.

"Um . . . well, thanks." He said dumbly. Moving further away, he said, "Maybe you should turn in for the night, huh?"

T'Pol nodded and lay down, still cocooned in the blankets. Trip settled himself again another tree and stared at the sky, thinking about what T'Pol had told him that day. It was amazing; in one day he had learned more about her than he had in months, and she had actually complimented him. He simply couldn't get his mind around it. Looking at the stars, he hoped they would have a chance to explore that friendship.

****************

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