Miscommunication - Part 4

Miscommunication

by Ragua

Disclaimer: Paramount owns all. I’m just borrowing.

A/N: All Vulcan terminology courtesy of the Vulcan Language Institute
http://home.teleport.com/~vli/vlif.htm

Anyone who has ever seen The Right Stuff will realize that Trip is quoting astronaut Alan Shepherd’s immortal line.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 7

Shuttlepod One descended into the atmosphere of Modinok, its hull plating ionized so that it could masquerade as a meteor. Its occupants sat in absolute silence, completing last minute tasks and preparing mentally for their mission.

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed reran all the worst case scenarios that his mind could possibly dream up. According to the Karil’s scans, the weapons complex was manned by only a skeleton staff. Kras believed that the majority of the population on Modinok was unaware of the facility, which would account for the absurdly small number of personnel staffing it. Malcolm’s job was to get his team in and out of the weapons complex with a minimum of contact with the indigenous species—preferably none whatsoever.

Sub-Commander T’Pol of Vulcan checked and rechecked the information provided her by Kras. Scans of the planet detected only Mahdini life signs. Despite the advanced technology, there were no alien biosigns on the planet. Still, they must be prepared in the event that the species which provided the weaponry had some type of cloaking technology. They could very easily run into unexpected adversaries, particularly as they had so little information on which to base their conclusions.

Commander Charles Tucker III took a deep breath as he piloted the shuttle to an uninhabited landing site and thought, Dear Lord, please don’t let me fuck up.

Basically, this plan was his baby. He’d shot his mouth off that it was possible to sabotage the power relays, and now the lives of 102 people on the Karil, 80 people on Enterprise, and two of his closest friends depended on whether or not he’d been talking out of his ass.

Trip glanced back at Malcolm and T’Pol. For all the crap that had been going on lately, they were his friends. Malcolm couldn’t help having a corncob up his ass. It was probably a British thing.

And T’Pol was a Vulcan. They obviously did things differently. She hadn’t been raised to think too highly of humans, either. She was probably scared to death about how close the two of them had become.

Not that she’d ever admit it.

I’m going to straighten this whole thing out once this mission is over, Trip thought.

* * *

“Good flying, Travis,” Captain Archer commended his helmsman.

Enterprise had just completed a swoop through the Modinok system, close enough to scan the planet and the Vulcan ship, send a message that the Karil might or might not be able to read, and hopefully to distract the Mahdini from the descent of Shuttlepod One. Then Archer ordered a strategic and hasty retreat.

Enterprise now orbited the outermost planet of the Modinok system, scanning continuously, ready to leap to Warp at any moment, should the Mahdini pulse weapon be directed at the Earth ship. Archer hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Scans of the Karil indicated 100 Vulcan life signs. He couldn’t imagine running away and leaving those people to their fate.

Now we just sit here and wait, thought Archer.

The waiting was stressful and frustrating, but it was necessary. In order for the plan to work, communications silence must be maintained. If the Mahdini could monitor their communications, it would give away the presence of the away team on the planet.

And that would pretty much blow their plan to hell.

* * *

Malcolm Reed paused in his advance every twenty meters or so to look back at the Science Officer. She would consult her tricorder and gesture in the direction they should take. Finally, she held up her hand and made a decisive gesture to the north. Malcolm continued at a slower pace, and soon their party came to a break in the trees.

The away team crouched down at the edge of the forest. A building that resembled an oversized pillbox stood in the middle of the clearing, all by itself. It appeared to be made of some type of brick, and the door was definitely wooden. It seemed extremely absurd that such a medieval-looking structure could house a power source capable of disabling the Vulcan ship.

Trip moved closer to T’Pol, and she obligingly held her tricorder out for him to see. They exchanged a glance, and Trip nodded. T’Pol turned to Reed. “It would appear that this is the first power relay, Lieutenant. Scans indicate no Mahdini in the vicinity.”

“Well, they’re a pack of butt-stupid gits when it comes to security, then,” Reed whispered in response. “We haven’t seen so much as a patrol since we landed!” Despite the fact that the lax Mahdini security would make their task easier, Malcolm was quite disgusted with it.

Someone should have their head handed to them if we succeed with this mission, he thought.

“Shall we go, then?” Trip decided that he should contribute something to the conversation. Malcolm and T’Pol gave each other a consulting look and then both nodded. Reed took point again, moving toward the building at a crouching run. He circled it and tested the door, phaser ready. After a brief pause, he disappeared inside.

There was a moment of silence. Then Reed reappeared at the door, waving them in.

The inside of the building was no more modern than the outside—except for the alien power source. The shiny metallic cylinder in the center of the building looked completely out of place, situated on the concrete floor and surrounded by ordinary, utilitarian furniture. Two wooden tables against the walls opposite each other looked as if they belonged in someone’s dining room. Each table was surrounded by a complement of four matching chairs, also made of wood.

The tables probably have extra leaves for when the relatives come to visit, Trip thought wryly.

At almost the same time, Malcolm chanted softly in a singsongy voice, “One of these things is not like the other. One of these things is not the same.”

Trip looked at the Armory Officer, startled, and then he began to laugh. Malcolm looked a bit embarrassed at first, unaware that he had voiced his thoughts aloud, but soon he began to laugh as well.

T’Pol gave them the Raised Eyebrow of Death. “Perhaps you should examine the alien power source, Commander. Our mission does have time constraints.”

Still grinning—it had felt good to laugh with Malcolm again—Trip moved to the incongruous cylinder. Reed, all business again, moved to the door to keep an eye out for Mahdini patrols.

After carefully removing the access panel, Trip scanned the alien components before tentatively poking here and there with various tools he had brought with him. As the engineer worked to disable the power source in such a way that it would not be immediately noticeable to any Mahdini who might wander in, T’Pol circled the room, scanning with her tricorder.

Just when Trip decided that he had the power relay figured out, T’Pol’s voice brought his attention to something none of them had noticed when they first entered the building. “Commander, there is a device on the ceiling of this building directly above the alien power source.”

Trip looked up. It was right over his head. “Is it gonna be a problem?” he asked.

“The energy levels of this apparatus have been increasing from the moment you removed the access panel on the cylinder.”

“Maybe it’s a security system of some sort,” Reed commented from the doorway. “That would certainly explain why they don’t feel the need to patrol the area!”

The three officers exchanged worried looks, and then an organized panic set in.

“Shit!” Not the most appropriate of responses, but it was all Trip could think of at the moment. He began to work fast, hoping that he had indeed figured the power relay out and that he could disable it before that device did whatever it was created to do.

“Commander!” T’Pol warned, her glance going back and forth between the alien security device and the readings on her tricorder.

“I’m almost there. You two back away. There’s no telling what this thing is gonna do or what kind of range it has.” Trip was determined to finish what he’d started. He didn’t notice that neither Reed nor T’Pol followed his instructions. Both, in fact, moved toward him.

The device overhead began to whine. “Commander!” T’Pol cried again, urgently.

Reed was less controlled. “Trip!” he hissed. “Get away from there, you bloody fool!”

The engineer ignored them both. He had it! “Ha!” he breathed in relief as the power relay ceased humming and its lights dimmed. Grinning at his success, he took a step back, away from the cylinder.

A moment too late.

The security device ceased whining and made a sound like a burp. A shaft of energy shot from above and engulfed the engineer. Malcolm and T’Pol, who had both been moving toward Trip, froze and watched in horror as their friend’s body arched rigidly, eyes and mouth agape, transfixed by the alien security beam.

* * *

“Anything yet, Lieutenant?” Captain Archer asked his Communications Officer for the seventh time since the away team had left.

“No, Sir,” Hoshi replied diffidently, even though part of her wanted to scream at the man. Yes, Captain, she thought sarcastically, I’ve actually had several hundred hails, but I haven’t said anything about them, because, you know, I’m just flaky that way.

Did he really think she wouldn’t tell him the nanosecond she detected something? The linguist sighed, realizing that it would be cruel to snap at him. He was just worried and didn’t know what else to do but nag. She felt the same way. Unfortunately, her position as Communications Officer made Hoshi the naggee, not the nagger.

Maybe she should offer some comfort. That might get him off her back. “Sir, it’s only been an hour. The power relays are each a few kilometers apart. It will probably take them a while.”

Archer sighed, but looked grateful at her attempt to cheer him up. Skulking behind this damned red Class A planet like a cockroach in a dark cupboard was making him cranky.

“I know, Hoshi.” He paced across bridge to her station. “I guess I’m just worried that—with everything that’s been going on—they might try to kill each other, never mind the Mahdini!” Archer eyed the Communications Officer shrewdly out of the corner of his eye. As long as he was stuck waiting around, no harm trying to find out a little more about the local mystery.

Hoshi looked up at her captain, suspiciously. “Sir?”

Archer gave her a knowing look in the hopes that she would buy his bluff and spill the beans. It worked. Sort of.

“Captain,” she snarled. “For God’s sake! There is absolutely nothing going on between me and Commander Tucker!” Hoshi paused to take a breath before she lit into her commanding officer again. “Of all the people to have their mind in the gutter! Really, Captain, do you honestly—

“No, Hoshi, I don’t!” Archer interrupted her in a soothing voice. “I know both of you well enough to be sure of that! Neither of you would ever be involved in that kind of...behaviour.”

Hoshi relaxed, somewhat mollified. And also a bit horrified. One of these days she was going to shoot her mouth off to a superior officer one too many times. Then she’d be in the brig for sure.

But not today, apparently! The captain was looking at her expectantly. He just wanted information, the big snoop!

“Sir?” she inquired again, as neutrally as possible.

“Like I said, Hoshi, I know you and Trip would never do what people think you’re doing,” the captain said. “But, I have to admit, I’d really like to know why you two have been spending so much time together.”

Hoshi sighed. “I promised Commander Tucker that I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Even your commanding officer?” Archer figured that he might as well try the ‘I’m the captain, dammit’ angle.

The Communications Officer hesitated. “I guess you could order me, Sir. But I think the commander would be really embarrassed if I told,” she countered, putting the ball soundly back in the captain’s court.

Damn, she’s good, Archer thought. I’m going to have to include her the next time we have to negotiate something.

He pondered for a minute. “What if I were to guess?” he finally asked. “You wouldn’t be telling me anything, technically.”

Hoshi eyeballed the captain in disbelief. “Are you suggesting that we play Twenty Questions, sir?”

Archer cocked his head at her and gave her what he hoped was a cheeky, and yet non-threatening, grin. “It would be a great way to kill the time while we’re waiting, Lieutenant.”

From his seat at the helm, Ensign Travis Mayweather grinned as well. With any luck, the captain’s questions and Travis’s own superb hearing would put him over the top, and he’d make out like a bandit in the ship’s pool!

* * *

Although time seemed to have slowed to a crawl, Enterprise’s Science and Armory Officer hesitated for no more than a fraction of a second. Reed stepped away from the cylinder to get a better angle, pointing his phaser at the security device on the ceiling. T’Pol strode across the room, grabbed one of the wooden chairs, and swung it in an arc toward her pinioned colleague. As though coordinated, Reed’s phaser blast struck the security device at the exact same time as T’Pol’s chair knocked the trapped engineer free of the energy stream. Trip’s collapse was simultaneous with the cessation of the security pulse.

T’Pol and Reed dashed to their fallen comrade. The Vulcan felt the engineer’s throat, frantically searching for a pulse. To her intense relief, it was there. It seemed extremely arrhythmic, however. That could not be healthy.

The Science Officer took a deep breath to calm herself, belatedly realizing that Lieutenant Reed was awaiting her verdict.

“Mr. Tucker is alive,” she informed the stricken Armory Officer. “However unwise it may be to move him, we must leave the premises immediately. There is no telling how our destruction of the security device will affect the mission. If the Mahdini have a means of detecting the failure of the device—or weapons fire, for that matter—we need to disable the remaining power relays as quickly as possible.”

Reed, although still obviously upset, nodded firmly. He took her tricorder and moved to the door. After a brief surveillance, he returned to her side. “It’s clear.”

T’Pol nodded, taking Commander Tucker’s left arm. Malcolm grabbed his right, and the two hauled the unconscious engineer from the building.

* * *

I didn’t know anyone could be so bad at Twenty Questions, Travis grumbled to himself. Captain Archer had obviously never served on a cargo ship. The man had no patience whatsoever, and his questioning technique was pathetic.

He had asked the obvious first two questions: “Is it an Engineering matter?” and “Is it a Communications matter.” Both answers had received a “no” from Hoshi, and the captain didn’t seem to know where to go from there.

He had wasted quite a few questions searching for some kind of common ground between Hoshi and Commander Tucker: “Does it have to do with food?” “Does it have to do with comic books?” “Does it have to do with movies or Movie Night?” (Hoshi had made the captain count that as two questions.)

It took the captain some time to come to a conclusion that Travis had always known: that the Communications Officer and the Chief Engineer had nothing in common. But he’d used up ten questions to get there! Once the captain counted up the number of questions he had left, he pulled back a bit, pondering his next move.

Good, thought Travis in exasperation. It’s not a race. Give your questions some serious thought, dammit!

* * *

At some point through the haze, the spins, and the fuzzy darkness, Trip realized that he was being half-carried through the woods, face-down, his feet dragging behind.

Gawd, he thought in agony, when am I gonna learn not to go drinking with Deke and Matty?

His twin cousins, older than he by five years, never seemed to enjoy getting themselves drunk as much as they did getting their teenaged cousin shit-faced and silly. Musta been tequila this time, Trip concluded, when the earth spun and his stomach took a turn. Mom and Aunt Beezy are really gonna be mad.

He must have made some kind of noise, because his cousins set him down—much more gently than he would have expected—and knelt beside him. With an incredible amount of concentration and effort, Trip managed to raise his head from the dirt, only to realize that the face looking back at him did not belong to either of his cousins.

Even through his muddled vision, he could see it was a gorgeous woman. With pointed ears!

“Damn, yer hot!” he blurted, before another part of his brain had a chance to caution him that a subtler approach might have more success.

The woman raised an eyebrow at him before turning to her companion. “It seems that Commander Tucker has been mentally incapacitated from his encounter with the alien security device,” she announced.

Now another face loomed queasily into view, making Trip’s stomach flip again. This person was also not a cousin, although he did look vaguely familiar. I know that guy, Trip thought. But from where?

“Commander?” the guy asked. “Can you tell me your name?” Trip just stared at him. “How about the day of the week?”

Whoa, cool accent, Trip thought, impressed. Sounds like James Bond! “Probably works great with the ladies,” he said aloud, slurring the words together.

The British guy and the pointy-earred woman shared a horrified look. Then they both turned back to stare at him. “Commander,” the woman asked. “What do you remember about Enterprise? Or our mission?”

“We’re on a planet called Modinok,” the British guy coached. “You’re in charge of disabling the alien energy relays.”

Damn, that did sound familiar. And he felt as though he really should know these two people. Trip lowered his forehead back to the dirt. The ground was definitely moving. Didn’t they feel it?

“Gimme a minute,” he stalled, hoping that his head would stop spinning long enough for him to make the necessary connections.

Enterprise. Modinok. Mission. Commander. Trip had a moment of clarity. That’s me. I’m the Commander. And that meant the British guy was...

“Malcolm?”

A look of relief and hope swept over the stiff face. The pointy-earred babe didn’t change her facial expression, but Trip got the impression that she was pissed off that he hadn’t identified her yet.

Pointy ears. A Vulcan? And suddenly his brain leapt from the past to the present, although the abrupt mental about-face brought another round of nausea.

“T’Pol!” Oh gawd. Had he just—in some kind of drunken stupor—told T’Pol she was hot?

“Commander,” T’Pol acknowledged his correct identification. After a short pause, she added, “We are in something of a hurry, Mr. Tucker.”

“Gimme a minute,” Trip begged again. He managed to get himself onto his hands and knees.

After which, he promptly tipped over onto his side.

Refusing to admit defeat, he tried again. This time, he managed to propel himself nearly upright. Then the ground lurched beneath him. He staggered about for a few paces, trying wildly to keep his feet, but ultimately he toppled over again, directly into a bush on the side of the path.

T’Pol and Malcolm rushed to pick him up.

“Gimme a minute,” Trip pleaded a third time.

“Commander,” T’Pol responded severely. “We do not have a minute.” With that, she and Malcolm proceeded to drag him along with them to the next power relay.

* * *

To the relief of Hoshi Sato and the irritation of Travis Mayweather, Twenty Questions came to an abrupt end when Vulcan Science Officer Kras arrived on the bridge and requested permission to assist in the rescue effort.

Jonathan Archer wasn’t crazy about the idea. Despite receiving a clean bill of health from Phlox, the elderly Vulcan seemed frail. Not to mention the fact that he was a Vulcan. Hell, it had taken Archer nearly a year to get used to T’Pol!

Still, it was Kras’ ship and crew that were in danger. The man had every right to be part of the effort to save them.

Archer nodded his permission, and Hoshi showed Enterprise’s new Acting Science Officer to T’Pol’s usual post.

Guess solving the mystery will have to wait, the captain sighed to himself. He couldn’t very well pump Hoshi for information with Kras manning the station right behind her. Not that he was getting anywhere with his informal investigation anyway.

Although...

Archer narrowed his eyes shrewdly as he watched Enterprise’s Communications Officer pointing out the details of the Science Station to Kras and translating the various controls for him—all in the man’s native language.

The captain smiled. Good thing Hoshi’s fluent in so many languages, he thought. Sure comes in handy.

* * *

The away team crouched at the edge of the clearing that housed the second power relay station. The little brick turret was identical to the first building. And once again, there was no sign of the planet’s inhabitants anywhere in the vicinity.

“Commander, do you believe you are capable of disarming the alien power source?” T’Pol asked the man lying on his face next to her.

Trip had long since admitted to himself that his motor functions were nowhere near being up to the task. Being dragged through the forest because he was unable to stand on his own two feet gave him plenty of time to arrive at this conclusion.

“No,” he responded brusquely, his voice muffled by the dirt because he was too dizzy to lift his head. “Can talk you through it, though,” he went on, even though speaking seemed to exacerbate the queasiness.

“Is your condition improving at all?” Reed wanted to know.

“Uh-uh,” the engineer slurred. “Dizzy. Sick.” From the expression on Malcolm’s face, Tucker could tell that the Armory Officer did not fully appreciate Trip’s suffering. The engineer attempted to explain. “Like too much tequila.”

Reed winced, a look of sympathy crossing his stony face. Tequila! His stomach cringed.

“We should not waste anymore time,” T’Pol’s announced. The two of them lifted the engineer from the ground, but the sudden movement was too much for Trip’s self-control.

“Wait, please! Uurk—”

Maybe it was the mention of tequila, maybe his own drinking experience made Reed familiar with that particular sound. Whatever the case, the Armory Officer—displaying an impressive agility—dropped the engineer’s arm and leaped back, well out of range.

T’Pol, however, possibly due to lack of experience with the overindulgence of alcohol, did not recognize the warning signs. Consequently, her boots bore the brunt of the assault as Commander Tucker emptied the contents of his stomach onto the forest floor.

Reed didn’t know whether to laugh hysterically at the expression on the Sub-Commander’s face or offer comfort to the Chief Engineer, who was now sputtering and spitting in an attempt to eliminate the memory—and the evidence—of his most recent bodily function. Malcolm satisfied himself with pulling Trip away from the mess while T’Pol came to terms with her close encounter with human digestion.

Or the failure thereof, Reed chuckled to himself, despite their obviously dire circumstances.

Once T’Pol had scraped her boots relatively clean on an obliging bush, she assisted Reed in carrying the ailing engineer into the building housing the Mahdini power relay. The Armory Officer had obviously thought out a strategy to ameliorate the current awkward situation. He immediately positioned one of the wooden chairs backwards near the power relay and helped Trip to straddle it.

Good ol’ Malcolm, Trip thought, as he held onto the back of the chair for dear life. Always thinkin’ ahead.

“If this security device is identical to the previous one we encountered,” T’Pol stated, “we should have three minutes and 30 seconds from the time the access panel is opened before it discharges an energy pulse.” She glanced at Reed. “If we can disable the power relay within that time, it may not be necessary to fire on the security device.”

Malcolm nodded and took up a position near the door, phaser in one hand, tricorder in the other. T’Pol glanced at the engineer.

“Give me a sec,” he requested. “Need ta focus. Get it right.”

Trip closed his eyes, calling up the grid of the alien power relay in his mind. He knew that he could only talk T’Pol through the process from memory. He couldn’t see straight; the energy pulse had left his vision blurry and doubled. If he opened his eyes and looked at the panel, he would only make himself sick.

The Science Officer maintained a respectful silence, knowing inherently that their mission now hinged upon the engineer’s mental discipline. She gripped his tools in her hands, watching as he took slow, deep breaths, his face bathed in perspiration from the effort. Just as she realized that he was utilizing the Vulcan breathing exercises that she had taught him, he spoke.

“’kay. Go.”

T’Pol removed the access panel. Her superior hearing thought it detected a whine from above, but she blotted it out of her mind, focusing instead on the engineer’s blunt, yet clear instructions.

“Left side. Five power couplings.”

“Giving off a somewhat blue light?” T’Pol asked.

“Yes. Start from rear. Move to front. Reroute flow at Y-junction of each.”

T’Pol efficiently followed the engineer’s instructions, which came quickly, despite sporadic pauses as he alternated between gasping, panting, and taking deep, slow breaths. The Vulcan marvelled at the human’s concentration. He was guiding her from the memory of a procedure he had performed only once, and in spite of incurring some type of brain injury from the alien security device. Before she knew it, the power relay stopped humming, and its lights went off.

A Vulcan could not have done better, T’Pol found herself thinking, as she replaced the access panel. She glanced at the engineer. Despite their success, he slouched miserably, head down, hugging the back of the chair.

“The security device powered down as soon as you replaced the panel,” Reed’s voice caught her attention. T’Pol nodded, gathering up the tools. As soon as she had them stowed, she grasped Trip’s arm. The Armory Officer moved to assist her.

“No.” The engineer’s firm voice startled them both. “Gotta leave me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Malcolm chided, after a moment of shock. “We’re not leaving you.”

“Not upta you, Lieutenant,” Trip slurred, managing to open one eye and glare at the Armory Officer. He shifted his eyes to T’Pol, holding her gaze for a moment, before shutting them tightly in obvious pain. “Way behind schedule already. T’Pol can do it now. Get goin’.”

The Science Officer’s arm hovered over the engineer’s as his words gave her pause. His statement was eminently logical. However...

“We will not leave you behind, Commander,” T’Pol decided, uncertain of what motivated her to say such an illogical thing. She attempted to take hold of him, but unaccountably, he struggled against her grip, managing both to elude her and fall out of the chair at the same time. An exasperated Reed pounced on the engineer, and together he and T’Pol dragged Trip from the building.

The engineer continued to struggle and protest weakly. “Sub-Commander! Malcolm, dammit. T’Pol, stop!” One of his flailing arms managed to catch the Vulcan’s ankles, tripping her up. Both she and the engineer flopped unceremoniously to the ground. Reed staggered under Trip’s weight, but managed to maintain his feet by releasing his grip on the engineer’s arm.

“Commander,” scolded T’Pol, trying to grab his arm again. He eluded her attempts, moving it away from her seeking hand, like a child playing keep-away from a younger sibling. Then, to her surprise, he counterattacked, grasping her own hand in his.

“T’hai’la!” His desperate tone and perfect pronunciation stopped T’Pol cold. She gripped his hand in return, moved, and yet unsure of how to respond to his personal plea. He solved the problem for her.

“Please,” he gasped. “Needs of the many...outweigh...needs of the few.”

His whisper was for hear ears alone, but it was enough. T’Pol could not counter an appeal to the Father of Logic coming from the lips of the most emotional human she had ever known. She sat still for only a heartbeat. Then, galvanized, she took hold of his shoulder again and spoke to Reed. “Lieutenant, assist me in moving Commander Tucker from the main path.”

Reed followed her orders, but protested at the same time. “We’re not leaving him!”

“The commander will remain here while we complete the mission,” T’Pol spoke for her own benefit as much as Reed’s. “Once we have done so, we will return for him.”

They deposited the engineer under a bush some 10 meters from the main path. T’Pol knelt and placed a communicator in his hand. “Commander, contact us immediately if you encounter any trouble.” He nodded, but she knew he would never follow her instructions. She leaned closer and whispered a more personal direction. “Stay right here,t’hai’la. We will return for you.” He nodded again, and she noticed his lips turn up slightly in an almost smile.

She squeezed his shoulder and rose abruptly, summoning Reed with a glance. Malcolm looked back once and then followed T’Pol to the main path, where they moved briskly toward the third power relay. Both officers remained focused on their objective, despite the inner turmoil generated by T’Pol’s decision.

What did he say to convince her, I wonder? Reed thought to himself. He had strained his ears to the limit, but had only heard a murmur.

T’Pol attempted to find solace in the logic of the argument Commander Tucker had used. He is right, of course, she tried to console herself. Logic, however, did not erase the sense of wretchedness that she had abandoned her t’hai’la.

And when, she asked herself, puzzled, had he studied the teachings of Surak?

Continue to Part 5

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A whole mess of folks have made comments

YAY! Another great chapter! Poor Trip.. T'Pol will have to take good care of him and make up for all her meanness once they get back on board.

Please keep going! This story is such a good read, and a lot of fun!

Oh, I love this to bits! The whole weekend I was wondering if there´ll be a new part and how you´ll procede. Just PERFECT!

Great story, I´m waiting desperately for more!

Wonderful, just wonderful! "Damn, yer hot" too funny. I Love the way you write these characters. Please hurry with your next chapter.

oh this is soooooo cool:-) really cheered me up after a crap sunday!!!

trip whispered Thai’la to t'pol!!! please keep it coming :-)))

Loved this, and it is wonderful to see you hitting your stride with this story. My stomach ached with laughing at Travis's frustration at how poor Archer was at Twenty Questions. Thank goodness for Trip's sake, and I loved the way it ended. Hurry back T'Pol, don't leave Trip too long! Can't wait for the next part, Ali D :~)

LOL that was great! keep 'em coming! :)

That was so worth the wait. Gawd.. the last scene just pulled at my heart. He called her T'hai'la. Poor Trip. Guess we should have expected it.
Trip + Away missions= Sick bay Poor baby.

Archer... too funny.

More, More, More !!! I can just picture Trip rambling incoherently in Vulcan to T'Pol when she returns... :) This is great!

I have to tell you that I am enjoying this story immensely. I llok forward to each chapter. Great writing. And I love your dialogue and character portryal. It is easy to imagine this play out like a movie or series of episodes. Great stuff.

I am totally loving this! T'Pol loves her Trip.... This is just brilliant! Keep it going!

You've had me laughing my ass off! This is great! please update soon!

Great chapter -- can't wait for the next one! I especially liked Archer, Hoshi and the Twenty Questions.

Dude! such awsomeness( is that even a word?)!
It was perfect and now I'm chewing at the bit for me. I check out that database where you were pulling those vulcan words but I couln't find T'hai'la anywhere. When are you gona let Trip know it means for than friend? Soon plz?

I don't know if it was intentional or not, but I really like the parallel between Trip calling her T'hai'la and her calling him Trip for the first time---Stopped both of them cold! I'm loving this story especially your talent for weaving humor into it. Please continue & SOON! :o)