To Have Learned Nothing At All-Ch 12

To Have Learned Nothing At All

By Samantha Quinn

Rating: 13
Disclaimer: Nothing’s changed. I still don’t own Star Trek or its characters and am still not making any money from this. Please don’t sue.

A/N: This chapter’s short, and mostly dialogue. It’s really more of a transition than an action chapter. Eh, it happens.
~~~

Chapter 12

Grounded Descendents of Monkeys
~~
Punching Hogan would be a bad thing, Trip reminded himself. At the very least, it would go against his promise to the Captain to be “extra nice” to these people. Watching Hogan’s lecherous stares sweep over T’Pol, however, was making it extremely difficult to keep those thoughts in mind.

“Thank you for coming, Sub-Commander,” Mayor Lewis said, extending his hand.

*Vulcans don’t shake hands.* Trip yelled mentally. Much to his displeasure, however, T’Pol leaned forward and shook the mayor’s hand without hesitation.

*I really, really hate that man,* Trip raged internally. T’Pol turned to look at him so sharply that Trip briefly wondered if he had spoken the words out loud.

“If there’s anything you need, be sure to let us know,” Lewis continued as T’Pol broke the handshake.

“Thank you. Commander Tucker will be assisting me until I have identified the problem, at which time he will make any necessary compensations to the sewage system,” T’Pol stated.

“Naturally. Tell me, are the mental abilities as good as rumor has it?” Hogan questioned.

*What the hell kind of question is that?* Even T’Pol raised an eyebrow as she responded. “As I am unaware what rumors currently exist regarding mental abilities, I am unable to answer that question effectively. Our abilities, however, are substantial.”
“We’d like to get started right away,” Trip added. *After all, the sooner we get started, the sooner we leave this miserable colony.*

“Of course. Do keep in mind that dinner will be served promptly at seven o’clock. We will expect you both to be there,” Mayor Lewis said cheerfully.

“I believe Mr. Tucker can fill you in on the proper conduct expected during meal time, as well as the consequences of not following proper protocol,” Hogan commented.

Perhaps it was an innocent comment, perhaps not. Regardless, it made Trip’s blood boil, as he highly suspected the latter to be true. Still, he managed a polite nod and an “of course” before he and T’Pol were escorted to the geography lab.

()()()()()()()()

*The Enterprise.*

Standing outside Hoshi’s quarters, Travis Mayweather desperately wished he were Malcolm Reed. Being Malcolm Reed would simplify his life in so many ways. *For starters, I’m pretty sure Lieutenant Reed never gets scared of anything.* Why, the very idea that Enterprise’s armory officer was even capable of expressing that emotion was as likely as a Vulcan smiling, in Travis’ estimation. Neither event was possible within the normal order of the universe.

More importantly, perhaps, if Travis had been Malcolm Reed, he would already be the object of Hoshi’s affections, thereby negating the need to be frightened in the first place. *Just in case the order of the universe is a little different than I imagine it to be.*

“Geez, Travis, how long are you going to stand there?” a voice teased behind him. Turning, Travis recognized Ensign Daniel Kelown from cartography.

“I haven’t been here that long,” Travis lied out of self-preservation.
“You were here twenty-minutes ago, when my shift ended and I was on my way to my quarters. You’re still here, now that I’m on my way to Phlox to get my allergy shot. How exactly do you define ‘long’?”

Though being a bridge officer meant that Travis technically outranked Kelown, the pilot wished he outranked Kelown by a more significant margin. Preferably as a head of a department that could sentence the cartographer to the most menial task imaginable. *Would it be wrong to use my friendship with Trip or Malcolm to arrange that?* “Well, I haven’t been here all this time,” Travis lied in the name of self dignity.

“Oh?” Kelown looked so smug that Travis had to remind himself that punching another officer was a court-marital offense.

“Yes, oh. Hoshi wasn’t here the first time I came by,” Travis lied to protect his previous lies.

It was possible that Kelown had something else to add, but any comment was forestalled by the swish of the aforementioned door.

“Travis!” the object of the pilot’s affection exclaimed. “What brings you by?”

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” Travis stated truthfully.

“Well, want to take a walk with me? I need to get up and stretch my legs,” Hoshi asked, with no idea that she was making Travis wince internally.

“Been cooped up in your quarters a long time, Ensign?” Kelown piped up.

“Only the past three hours, working on the specifics of the Xindi Aquatic grammatical structure,” came the response which made Travis externally wince.

The sound of Kelown’s laughter followed Travis and Hoshi at least halfway down the corridor.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

*The planet*

In truth, there was not much for Trip to do at the science lab. While he was an accomplished and innovative engineer, his scientific skills did not extend to geography. Mostly he tried to stay out of T’Pol’s way.

He was very useful, however, in technical assistance such as pulling up the schematics of the colony for her. While T’Pol appreciated his help, she knew she could have very well have done those same tasks with little additional time.

Regardless of whether or not she needed him, there was no way T’Pol was willing to permit Commander Tucker to leave her vicinity. She was growing increasingly aware of the depth of his feelings towards the colonists. Thus, as much as Commander Tucker was intent on protecting her, in T’Pol’s estimation, he needed her protection more.

“Findin’ anything?”

“Perhaps.”

“Wanna share?”

*Apparently his patience has found its limitations.* To some extent, T’Pol was relieved to be speaking to Commander Tucker. The intensity of his emotions were immensely distracting in the quiet of an empty lab. “Look at these two layers of rock,” T’Pol instructed.

“The top one looks pretty broken up.”

“Whereas the bottom layer is comparatively very smooth. Much smoother than is to be expected if Teutonic friction was involved.”

“Well, that’s narrowing down the choices a bit,” Trip offered optimistically. It was, T’Pol reflected, the first time he had put forth any effort not to sound unhappy since they had arrived on the colony. In appreciation of this fact, T’Pol chose not to point out that his observation had little constructive purpose.

“Excuse me, T’Pol, Mr. Tucker?” a young girl that T’Pol estimated to be around fourteen human years stepped hesitantly into the room. “I was sent to remind you that dinner is in one hour.”

“Thank you,” T’Pol said to her, and after a quick nod, the girl turned and fled the room.

“She looked rather terrified,” Commander Tucker remarked.

“I suspect she is frightened of me, if her people remotely resemble your interpretation,” T’Pol stated calmly. Though T’Pol’s gaze was directed towards her scans, she did not fail to notice the downward glance of his gaze. Even if she had missed the change, she could have had missed the overwhelming sense of guilt that emanated from him. “What bothers you, Commander?”

“Nothin’. I just hate these people, that’s all, T’Pol.” He gave a careful glance around the lab, as if worried that someone might overhear him.

“As illogical as it is for the colonists to have chosen to leave us unguarded, we are alone, Commander. Thus, you can be truthful.”

“I am being truthful, T’Pol.”

“Charles.”

It was the correct method in getting Commander Tucker to lower his guard. “Do you remember Mr. Ventik?”

“Your tenth grade biology teacher.”

“And a Vulcan. Ya know, T’Pol, I was as terrified of Ventik as that little girl was of you.”

“I do not understand why this concerns you. If anything, such a correlation should serve to illustrate the possibility that she may reach the same heights of understanding as you have achieved.”

“What heights, T’Pol? I’ve been thinking about it, and you know what? I’m haven’t challenged my perceptions at all. I’m still the same xenophobic bastard I was at fifteen.”

To say that Commander Tucker’s confession was unexpected was an understatement. Charles Tucker was many things, but xenophobic was not one of them. “I do not see what justifications you have for that opinion.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“If it were, I clearly would have no need to ask.”

Trip sighed and leaned up the nearest counter as though he needed its very support in order to stand. “When I first met you, I – I strongly disliked you. Hell, all Vulcans.”

“I am aware of that.”

“My feelings toward you were probably pretty close to what these colonists feel.”

“Your feelings have changed.” It was not a question. It did not need to be.

“Of course they’ve changed! But –“

“When I first met you, I held little affection for you. Further, I was a representative of the Vulcan High Command and held little affection for your species as a whole. I do not consider this an example of xenophobia any more than I consider your actions to be. Both were mistakes, and both were rectified. It is unlikely the people of this colony would have displayed the same concern for intercepting my personal mail that you did only weeks after we had first met, nor is it likely they would have listened as attentively as you did to my difficulty with Koss. It is completely unfathomable that any of them would have agreed to undergo neuropressure.”

“But I proposed a human solution to Koss, and resisted the neuropressure,” Trip reminded her.

“Did you resist the neuropressure sessions because of my species?” T’Pol inquired.

In response, Trip’s blushed and only muttered a “no.” Believing now not to be the proper place to further the discussion, but privately quite pleased, T’Pol ignored his facial pigmentation and continued. “Then your reasoning is flawed. Is there anything else that concerns you?”

“The cogentitor.”

“While your methods were not optimal, they were not malevolent, either.”

“I caused a death because I thought I knew better than an entire culture of people. How is that not xenophobia? Hell, it’s probably worse than anything these colonists have ever done.”

“While I support the Captain’s actions in the handling of the cogenitor, he shares the blame with you for his death. Though your actions were inappropriate, I believe them to have been prompted by the same sentiments that elicited your concern for my situation with Koss. Compassion should not be mistaken for ethnocentricity.”

T’Pol was relieved to see a small smile cross Trip’s face. She recognized the feeling he was experiencing as the same one that had filled her as a child waiting on results of her scientific experiments. It was hope, but a cautious hope. Caution was to be exerted in case there was something darker, even more foreboding.

Which simply meant that Charles was not yet convinced of his innocence. “Something else disturbs you?”

His smile grew a little wider. “Boy, T’Pol, you’re turning into a regular mind reader.”

*That is not entirely accurate.* Still, it was becoming more and more apparent to T’Pol that she would soon have a long talk with Commander Tucker. *It can wait. He is showing no signs of the same . . .side effects.*

Her silence prompted him to continue, rubbing his neck nervously as he did so. “I - I really hated the Xindi, T’Pol. When we first left Earth, I wanted nothing more than to destroy the bastards for what they’d done. Part of me still hates them, T’Pol. And regardless of what Surak may have said, I don’t like living with the idea that I’m capable of hating someone that much.”

“The brother of my father served as an Ambassador to Earth during the early years of human space exploration. While he was there, he encountered an elderly doctor who had served in Earth’s last world war. The doctor frequently told Solkar-“

“Solkar was your uncle? The first Vulcan Ambassador to Earth?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you ever mention that before?”

“It has never before been relevant. May I continue?”

“Sure.”

“The doctor frequently shared with Solkar the unfortunate effects of war. Though Solkar himself had known of war with Andoria, the exploits shared by the human doctor were far worse. The doctor related instances of surgeons during the war being so cold that they came to relish having a patient, for cutting them open would expose the surgeons’ hands to the heat from the body.”

Trip shivered. “That’s horrible, T’Pol.”

“As is harboring hate for the enemy. However, both are a consequence of war. Further, Surak believed that the first step to eradicating harmful thoughts was to identify them. By taking that step, you have already proven yourself inherently different from these colonists.”

Trip smiled widely at that point. “Thanks, T’Pol. I could hug you for that. Except I know that Vulcans don’t like to touch.”

*That would depend upon whom we are touching.* “Vulcans do not hug, Commander.”

Trip actually chuckled at that. “Nah. Hey, we should probably head towards the meal site. We still have some time, but I need to explain the stupid meal customs.”

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

When they arrived to the said site, it appeared that Trip’s explanation was faulty. “I fail to see ‘several tables of a buffet,’ Commander.”

“Well, I only ate breakfast with them when I was here –“

“You did not have adequate food while you were here?”

“Yes, T’Pol, I did. But given what I was doing, no one insisted I come out from the sewer to join them. They usually saved me a plate of food that I ate whenever I was finished.”

Trying to ignore the troubled sensation in his gut, Trip followed T’Pol as they walked over to the table where Lewis and Hogan were waiting for them.
“Welcome, Mr. Tucker, T’Pol,” Lewis greeted. “You are just in time. Sharon’s handing out the plates.”

Trip noticed Hogan give T’Pol another appraising look and the urge to punch the other man doubled. The look was downright evil. *And it’s not just me being jealous either.* “So, how come you only have buffet for breakfast?” Trip asked.

“We used to have equally elaborate spreads for all three meals. However, we discovered that much food was going to waste. As you know, we do not tolerate waste of food, Commander.”

“Yes, I know,” Trip snapped. He received a stern glance from T’Pol in reply. One that clearly said, “shut up.” Trip complied, privately thinking that forcing everyone to eat everything on their plates was going way beyond “not tolerating waste.”

It was at that point that their plates arrived. The food at least looked appetizing. Broccoli, rice, and spare ribs. *Who serves rice with spare ribs?*

Out of nowhere, a memory occurred to Trip.

~~
Can’t wait to see you tackle the spare ribs.
~~

The shiver that ran through him at the memory of the words he had spoken to T’Pol at their first meal together only intensified as he turned to look at her plate, hoping against hope that the colonists knew and cared about Vulcans being vegetarians.

Well, he couldn’t testify to the former, but the latter apparently was not true. For there, in front of T’Pol, right next to her rice and broccoli, sat a pile of spare ribs.

~~~
To Be Continued. . . .

A/N: The surgeon bit I drew from my useless random historical knowledge. However, my non-historian friend has informed me that it was referenced on MASH as well. I’ve never really seen that show, but hey, good for them.

A/N, II: This chapter – and next - are awfully chatty. For that, I apologize, but do offer that by chapter 14 that should change. Bah.

Chapter 13

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Eight hardy souls have made comments

Oh no. The colonists are baiting T'Pol.
The discussion between Trip and T'Pol about xenophobia was well written.
Awesome story!

I just love how well T'Pol knows and understands Trip. The idea of her wanting him with her so she could protect him rather than visa versa made me smile so much it almost split my face in two! As for those colonists, I am really *really* beginning to dislike them. Methinks they are up to something very nasty. Ali D :~)

Next time on "To Have Learned Nothing At All"... will T'Pol eat those spare ribs? Turn in next post for this and other answers left by readers! Great story... keep it going!

Oh your good, very good.... building the suspense around the message from vulcan and now with diner. I can just feel the tension buidling up. Don't keep us waitimg to long for the next episode of this story.

um... that's tectonic, not Teutonic... =P

This is really good. Nasty colonists. Can't wait for more.

Hey, Teutonic is a word. . . just not the one I wanted. ;) oh, well. You've all been aptly warned that this isn't betaed. Continue to read at your own risk. Though I'll try not to confuse Germanic languages and rocks in the near future.

How dare they! That isn't right. They're damn well baiting her. I'm with Trip on this one. Who gives a bloody hell whether or not earth's Government supports them. Not cool. I swear, if they try something (and I know they will), I'll be ready and waiting with a phase pistol in hand. (don't mind me, I get delusional when I'm angry)