To Have Learned Nothing At All- Ch 9

To Have Learned Nothing At All

by Samanatha Quinn

****

A/N: Yep, been a while – much longer than I prefer. However, the muse for this one is extremely flighty. So much so that I have decided not to bother my wonderful betas anymore for this one – it’s not fair to ask someone to keep track of a fic that is updated so sporadically. Hence, not betaed, so the grammar, etc. may suck now.

~~~~~~~

Chapter 9: Are You a Good Witch or a Bad Witch?

Mayor Lewis noticed the confusion of Trip and Malcolm as soon as they took their seats at the breakfast table. “Gentlemen, is there something that bothers you?”

Lewis noted the cautious glance that passed between the two men and he marveled at the depth of their friendship they must have shared in order to communicate so easily without saying a word. Commander Tucker ultimately chose to be the spokesperson for the twosome. “We were just wonderin’. . . the bridge we had to cross to get here from our sleeping quarters – "

“Ah, yes. The Vissian Bridge. It’s quite spectacular, isn’t it?” Lewis agreed.

Again, the look passed between the two men. “Does that disturb you, gentlemen? I had heard, of course, that your ship did not have the best diplomatic relationship with the Vissians – "

“No,” Lieutenant Reed interrupted. “It doesn’t disturb us, exactly. We were just operating under the assumption that your colony had more of an . . . isolationist policy towards non-humans.”

To the lieutenant’s left, Officer Hogan laughed shortly. “Isolationism, lieutenant? Do you truly believe that to even be a possibility in these times of space travel?”

Lewis shook his head. “Officer Hogan is quite correct, gentlemen. True isolationism has not been possible upon Earth for nearly two hundred years, since the start of globalization.”

~~

Trying to forget the association the colonists had with Vissians, Trip shook his head and asked in bewilderment, “What exactly is your policy towards non-humans?”

Motioning towards the waiting table, Lewis suggested, “Perhaps we should begin consumption of breakfast before we begin to converse, gentlemen. After all, you may be guests on leave, but the colonists do have duties to attend to.”

Trip bit down the automatic reply that would have pointed out that the Enterprise crew had been doing plenty of ‘duties’ on this planet lately. Instead, he inquired, “Do all the colonists eat together, Mayor?”

Trip’s question was rewarded with a hearty laugh. “Well, no, of course not, Mr. Tucker. We wouldn’t have room in one place for all of them. However, each of the colonies five major sections do gather together each morning in celebration of the day that is to come and in the evening, in celebration of the events that have passed.”

*Ah, but of course. It’s perfectly normal - all cities are built that way. Why didn’t I realize?* Trip thought, somewhat bitterly, to himself. Pushing the thought away, he reminded himself that six days of being knee deep in human excrement with little sleep had made him more irritable than normal. *That’s to be expected . . . isn’t it?*

Still, it was with a good deal of agitation that Trip, along with Malcolm, followed Mayor Lewis and Officer Hogan to the buffet display. The sight that greeted them was nothing short of spectacular. Four large rectangular tables practically overflowed with various types of breakfast food, spanning numerous Earth continents and cultures.

“Eat up, gentlemen. Keep in mind, the only rule is that you must take one item from each table, and you must eat everything on your plate,” Hogan encouraged as he handed them both plates.

As Trip and Malcolm moved to comply, Trip grumbled quietly under his breath, “Everything on my plate? I haven’t been told that since I was eight.”

“There’s a wide enough selection. Why don’t you just pick the foods you like? You have to be hungry enough.”

“Fine. But I’m goin’ to take the opportunity while we eat to question these guys. Something creepy’s goin’ on here, and I don’t like it.”

Trip saw the brief glance of disapproval that spread across Malcolm’s face before he turned and lead the way to the large circular wooden gathering table. Malcolm followed quietly behind, and Trip momentarily wondered where the suspicious, untrusting tactical officer that normally occupied his friend’s body had gone.

~~

As much as Trip contemplated what he viewed to be uncharacteristic behavior from Malcolm, the tactical officer began to wonder exactly what was wrong with Trip throughout the course of the meal. True, his friend had always been the passionate sort – but as the conversation progressed, it became clear that Trip’s objection to the colony was more of a personal one.

“So . . . your policy towards non-humans?” Trip reminded Lewis once they were seated.

“Ah, yes. You see, it’s really very simple. We believe that the many different alien cultures Earth has come in contact with have the potential to have views which are . . . shall we say, radically different from our own.”

Malcolm resisted the urge to roll his eyes at such an obvious statement. *Of course they’re going to be different than your own. Why would someone from another planet be even remotely similar?*

“Well, that tends to be the case. Ya see, people from other worlds tend to have other views,” Trip agreed.

Part of Malcolm’s tactical training had involved the study of non-verbal communication. It was with great concern, therefore, that he noticed the slight clenching of Hogan’s jaw as he sat quietly to the right of Lewis, who made his response verbally. “True. Be assured, Mr. Tucker, that we have no problem with diversity. But we simply believe that in basic concepts of human decency, diversity has no place. There are some things that are clearly right, and others that are clearly wrong. Don’t you agree?”

Trip was in mid-bite when the question came, and had to swallow before he responded. Malcolm noted that the swallow took considerably more time than it typically would have. “I suppose so,” was Trip’s final response.

“You ‘suppose’ so?” Lewis questioned. He sounded genuinely confused, and Malcolm briefly pondered the possibility that he was truly a moron before deciding that the confusion was more likely part of a manipulative subterfuge designed to throw them off. He also noted that Hogan’s jaw could not possibly clench much tighter.

“Yep,” came Trip’s solitary reply.

Of course, Malcolm had also studied verbal communication. Thus, he was able to recognize that it wasn’t exactly what Trip was saying, as much as it was how, that was becoming a problem.

*This is not going well,* Malcolm reflected. Vainly, he attempted to remedy the situation. “I believe what my friend is saying is that often there are shades of gray –"

Unfortunately, that proved to be the straw that unclenched Hogan’s jaw. “Shades of gray, Malcolm? When are there shades of gray in matters relating to murder?”

“In our time in the Expanse, we killed a lot of Xindi,” Trip replied before Malcolm could. “Some people might call that murder, others might not.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Hogan sputtered indignantly, sending bits of egg in flight as he did so. “You were defending Earth.”

“And they thought they were defending their world,” Trip pointed out.

*Since when does Trip defend the Xindi?* came the warning in Malcolm’s head. *This really isn’t going well at all.* “What I believe Commander Tucker is trying to say is that we haven’t really encountered any species that has truly been in favor of killing for sport.” Well, it had sounded diplomatic when it had been in his head. When it came out, on the other hand, Hogan apparently disagreed with its diplomatic content.

“You’ve been gone a while, Malcolm. Neither you nor Mr. Tucker have had the privilege of meeting the Thunderians, have you?”

“No, we haven’t,” Malcolm agreed hesitantly, vowing silently to look them up in the revised Starfleet database as soon as they returned to Enterprise.

“They’re a catlike race,” Hogan remarked, scowling at an apparent memory he chose not to share with either Trip or Malcolm. “They have many barbaric customs that require bloodshed and warfare. Chief among them is a ritualistic ‘hunt’ in which opposing villages are pitted against each other in a competition for the highest number killed.”

“Well, if they’re ‘catlike,’ their behavior might be part of their natural evolution,” Trip pointed out. Again, Malcolm winced inwardly at his tone. “What gives you the right to make judgments about that?”

“From your interaction with the Vissians, I never would have guessed you would be so sensitive about other culture’s natural evolution,” Hogan remarked snidely.

Wincing, Malcolm decided that whatever bond he and Hogan had tentatively formed over security repairs had completely dissipated with that one sentence.

“ It is because of my ‘interaction’ with the co-genitor that I am ‘sensitive’ about other cultures,” Trip retorted.

Malcolm tensed as Hogan started to reply, but eased considerably as Lewis interrupted him. “We don’t have any problem with other cultures having their own rituals and customs, Commander Tucker. It is simply our belief that while they are on our planet, they should obey our laws, observe our customs, and not believe they have any inherent right to observe their own.”

“Because human customs are . . . inherently superior?” Trip asked in disbelief, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Yes. You don’t see us performing any type of ritual even close to that of the Thunderians, do you?” Hogan replied.

“Actually, that ritual is quite close to that of the ancient Greek cities of Athens and Sparta,” Malcolm pointed out.

He was rewarded with a patronizing glare from Lewis. “Yes, but that was long ago, in Earth’s darker ages. We’re a bit more enlightened than that these days, Lieutenant.”

Malcolm bit his lip and thought about correcting Lewis and informing the condescending bastard that the ‘dark ages’ he spoke of were considered by most to be one of the high points of Western culture. Realizing that perhaps there were more diplomatic avenues, but unable to conjure any, he chose once again to say nothing.

“So, if that’s your stance, why do you have the Vissian bridge in the middle of your colony?” Trip demanded. While Malcolm understood the tone his friend was using, the tactical officer in him wished desperately that the engineer had picked a different one.

“They were willing to help us, Mr. Tucker, while agreeing to abide by our rules, ethics, and customs while they were on our planet,” Mayor Lewis answered.

“If that’s all you wanted, I don’t see why you needed to leave Earth. Last time I checked, even visitors to the planet had to abide by our rules,” Trip responded stubbornly.

“You’ve been gone for a while. It’s been what, three years since Enterprise departed Earth?” Hogan commented. At Trip and Malcolm’s nod, Hogan continued, using his fork to accentuate his words. “Since then, there’s been a growing movement on Earth to invite non-humans to our planet, even following the Xindi attack. While cooperation and getting along with our neighbors is a nice idea in theory, Earth’s governments have begun to overlook the importance of preserving our culture, our ideals, our morals, and our beliefs – all in favor of sitting in an intra-galactic circle singing ‘Ring Around the Rosie.’ Pacification has become more important than anything else.”

For a reason Malcolm couldn’t quite place, he suddenly recalled that “Ring Around the Rosie,” had been written during the Plague that haunted Europe’s Dark Ages. Pushing that thought away, his thoughts were interrupted by the movement to his left as Trip suddenly rose.

“Thanks for the lesson in xenophobia. If you’ll excuse me-“

“Ah, ah, Mr. Tucker. You have not completed your meal. I believe we have already warned you that you must finish your meals completely. Waste will not be tolerated on our colony. Not even by guests,” Hogan warned. There was a decided edge to Hogan’s voice.

“Trip, remember the Captain’s orders,” Malcolm whispered softly. He was rewarded by a silent glare from his friend who remained standing for more than a minute before deciding to sit down.

“Thank you, Mr. Tucker,” Lewis said graciously. “You see, you may not like our way of doing things. However, I would remind you that this colony does have the full support of Earth’s government.”

Trip fell silent as he returned to consuming his food. The lull eventually became an uncomfortable silence. It was broken finally when Lewis remarked, “We are not alone in our beliefs. What we are advocating is not so different from the Vulcan concept of non-interference.”

“Yes, I look forward to discussing the concept with Sub-Commander T’Pol when she arrives,” Hogan remarked.

“Sub-Commander T’Pol will not be arriving to this planet,” Trip said forcefully.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. According to Anders, she’s our best hope for fixing the seismic difficulties. I’m sure Earth’s government – and Captain Archer – will want to do everything in their power to help. Weren’t those your orders?” Hogan offered.

The look that Trip gave the man clearly communicated the desire for Hogan to choke on the next bite of bread the security officer took. Taking the opportunity, Malcolm remarked, “That will be up to the Captain to decide.”

“Yes,” Trip opined, “I’m sure it will be one of the first things we’ll discuss with the Captain when we return to the ship.”

The rest of the meal proceeded without interruption, and Malcolm found himself counting down the moments for it to end. When it did, they bade their goodbyes and headed towards the rendezvous point. As Malcolm followed behind Trip, he feared slightly for the poor geologist who was no doubt going to bear the brunt of Trip’s irritation on the shuttle ride back to Enterprise.

~~~

To Be Continued. . .

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Four of you have made comments

Oooh, I don't like them. And all that nonsense about having to take someone from each table and eat everything on their plates? All the alarms bells in my head held hands and yelled "No, don't do it!" Why do I feel Trip and Malcolm are being set up and that something has been put in the food? Good story, hope the chapters will flow more frequently. Ali D :~)

I agree wholy with Ali D. I don't like these people. Bloody ass holes. And, Ali, about your "something in the food" theory, I hadn't thought about it, but it sounds like it'd be something they'd do.

These people, they remind me of an earth culture, but, for some bloody reason, I can't put my finger quite on it. We'll see.

It's great to see that Trip's time on Enterprise has taught him to be more tolerating of other alien cultures. I hope that Trip can convince the
Captain to let T'Pol remain on board. I have a bad feeling that something real bad is gonna happen soon.

Ali D.~I don't think anything is in the food becuase they still need Trip and Malcom to help them. But after they're finished they should watch their backs.

Can't wait for TT interaction. Great chapter, Sam!

Those people in the colony seem really shady. I hope Trip can convince Archer not to let T'Pol come to the planet.
Poor Malcolm! I'm sure it was tough for him, trying to be the peacemaker.
Excellent story.