To Have Learned Nothing At All-Ch 14

To Have Learned Nothing At All

By Samantha Quinn

Rating: PG-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 14

T’Pol’s Brain

~~~****~~~

“What do you mean, arrested?” Archer’s demand was a combination of anger, irritation, and confusion. None of these were necessarily directed at Trip, but he received the brunt of the emotions, nonetheless.

Malcolm’s reply was a little less hostile. “What reason could they possibly have had to arrest T’Pol?”

In the middle of his panic, Trip had a hysterical realization that Malcolm’s question was the first sign of order or logic to have appeared in the conversation since Trip had arrived back on the ship over ten minutes ago. *If T’Pol was here, we would have reached that point earlier.* It was, perhaps, a sign of the value T’Pol had to Enterprise. Trip preferred not to think of that right now.

“They arrested her for indecency,” Trip related, not looking forward to the inevitable response to that revelation.

The response manifested itself in a very confused look from Malcolm and a furrowing of the brow from the Captain. Had the situation been not less serious, Trip might have laughed.

“I didn’t think Vulcans were capable of being indecent,” Malcolm muttered.

“Look, she wasn’t being ‘indecent,’ okay?” Trip snapped, more impatiently than necessary.

“Then why did they arrest her?” The Captain asked.

*Because they’re evil, xenophobic assholes?* “Since we entered the Expanse, T’Pol’s been giving me Vulcan neuropressure –“

“Oh, bloody hell,” Malcolm grumbled softly next to him. It was an action that earned the tactical officer a glare.

“Did you say something, Malcolm?” Archer questioned.

“Just . . . bloody hell, Sir. I can’t imagine why Vulcan physical therapy is considered indecency, Captain,” Malcolm responded smoothly, apparently not bothered in the least by telling a direct lie to his commanding officer.

“Vulcan physical therapy? Is that what this ‘neuropressure’ is?” Archer asked.

*Thank you, Malcolm.* “Pretty much. I’ve been needin’ it since Lizzy’s death, and the Expanse messed with T’Pol’s sleep too. . . so, I reciprocated.”

Archer’s frown deepened. “They arrested her for performing physical therapy on you? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Nothing about them makes any sense,” Trip responded, his tone a bit more peevish one than he had intended to use with the Captain.

If Archer was bothered by Trip’s tone, he didn’t show it. “Archer to Bridge.”

“Go ahead, Captain.”

“Travis, have Hoshi get me Mayor Lewis, and patch him through to the Command Center.”

“Aye, Sir.”

Ending the connection, Archer turned his attention back to Trip and Malcolm. “We’ve been fighting to prevent an out and out war with the Xindi for a year now. I don’t want to have succeeded only to cause a Civil War amongst our own people. I’m going to try my best to talk some sense into Lewis.”

“He won’t listen, Captain. These colonists –“

“I realize it may come to that, Trip. Which is why Malcolm is going to ready his men while I talk to the Mayor. I want to be prepared in case diplomacy fails. You’re both dismissed.”

In the corridor, Malcolm clapped his hand on Trip’s shoulder. “We’ll get her back, one way or the other.”

“The only way we’re going to get her back is going down there and taking her back. There’s not a colonist down there who would know reason if it crawled up their leg and bit them in the ass.”

Giving Trip another sympathetic look, Malcolm murmured, “What I can’t figure out, though, is how they managed to know what was going on. When we were there, I never saw any indication of any sort of security cameras anywhere.”

~~~****~~~

Doctor Phlox had once relayed to T’Pol the opinion that Vulcans have a much higher pain threshold than their human counterparts. At the time, T’Pol had agreed. It was logical, after all, to conclude that a more disciplined species would be in greater control of all of their bodily functions. When T’Pol awoke in the in the human colony’s prison, however, she recognized a revision of that opinion may have been necessary. The intensity of the throbbing ache just below her left ear afforded her no other alternative.

Attempting to forget her discomfort, T’Pol focused on her surroundings. Admittedly, T’Pol knew very little about Earth’s prison structures. Her time on Earth simply hadn’t provided an opportunity to visit the facilities. However, from the little information that she had learned, she expected the holding cell Hogan was escorting her to be a hybrid between the Enterprise’s brig, and the barred containment cells of Earth’s recent history. When their final destination turned out to be a reasonable facsimile of a medical facility instead, T’Pol was considerably disconcerted. She also was not entirely certain that she was relieved to discover her previous hypothesis to be incorrect.

Regardless of the medical instruments that adorned the walls of the room, T’Pol had no immediate means of escape. She was still securely tied to the same cold metal chair that she had been escorted to immediately following Commander Tucker’s departure. The Andorian metal straps which held her feet and hands were still ten degrees cooler than could be comfortable, and would have made her shiver, had her Vulcan control not refused that response permission to occur. In addition to being too cool for her skin, the straps were also unnecessarily tight. While not quite tight enough to draw blood, they were definitely tight enough to leave their shape branded into her wrists and ankles, presuming, of course, that the colonists let her live that long.

As she clinched and unclenched her fists, T’Pol reflected on the Andorian design and briefly wondered if Shran himself had exchanged the manacles for some human luxury, perhaps an alcoholic beverage, if the Andorian Commander’s actions in the Expanse had been any indication.

*Illogical,* she scolded herself. As much as she was loathe to admit it, Shran was capable of some degree of civilization. He had, appointed himself a friend of the humans –that was a small indication of good taste – even if he did inst on calling them by the illogical moniker of “pinkskins.” Frequently, T’Pol’s Vulcan reserve was the only thing preventing her from pointing out the obvious fact t hat all humans were not nearly as. . . pink as the Captain, Lieutenant Reed, or Commander Tucker. Though Commander Tucker was the most visually pleasing at his pinkest, when his skin tone contrasted with his hair. . . nicely.

The entry of Hogan interrupted any further contemplation T’Pol may have had on Andorian-Human relationships, or Vulcan-Human ones, for that matter. “Hello, T’Pol. Are you comfortable?”

“I am not, as I suspect you already know.”

Hogan laughed. In her time with humans, T’Pol had grown to have pleasant associations with the sound. When Hogan laughed, however, she could summon none of the pleasant connections. “You know, you claim otherwise, but I highly suspect that Vulcans have a pretty developed sense of humor.”

Ignoring his irrelevancy, T’Pol focused on more pertinent matters. “What do you plan to do with me?”

“Ah, and always so blunt and to the point. I can appreciate that.”

“Perhaps you can show your appreciation by answering my question.”

“Of course. It is your right, by our law. Well, T’Pol, you’ve been accused, and found guilty of indecency under our laws. As we speak, the evidence has been sent to Earth’s government. Typically, the sentence is death. However, for you, we have something special in mind.”

*Perhaps my sentence is to be forced to listen to your insufferable gloating?* Rather than give Hogan the satisfaction of further questioning, T’Pol waited patiently for the man to continue.

His smile turned to a confused frown. “Don’t you want to know what our something special is?”

“I am sure you will tell me when you are ready.”

“Do you have any idea how many colonists originally settled here, T’Pol?”

“I do not.”

“Three hundred and twelve. Of those three hundred and twelve, one hundred have either been executed or forced to leave the planet, for failure to follow the rules.”

*Given the evidently harsh rules of this planet, you should be thankful that the latter number is not higher.* T’Pol failed to understand what the population of the planet had to do with her. Thus, she continued to listen as Hogan waxed philosophical.

“Up until recently, those seemed the only alternatives. However, our scientists have recently come up with a possible solution. Tell me, T’Pol, do Vulcans ever gorge themselves on any one particular food?”

“Overindulgence is illogical.”

“I’ll consider that a ‘no.’ We humans, on the other hand, do ‘overindulge’ once in a while.” Again, Hogan’s mouth twisted into a smile as unpleasant as the same shape was pleasant on Commander Tucker’s. “When I was five, my mother caught me eating an oatmeal cookie before dinner, even though I’d been warned ahead of time not to do so. My mother caught me red-handed, as the saying goes. Tell me, T’Pol, what would a Vulcan mother do in that situation?”

Though T’Pol wondered about the reasoning behind discussing Vulcan childrearing practices with this man, an instinctual dislike of Hogan made her believe it unwise to refuse to answer. *Besides, there will be no discernable positive benefit to my refusal.* T’Pol did not doubt, however, that Hogan was quite capable of producing negative results. “She would increase the child’s meditation time.”

Hogan smirked. “Meditation? How very. . . Vulcan to assume something so useless would be of any benefit. My mother believed in a much more . . . proactive solution. Knowing how much I adored oatmeal cookies, she made ten batches – and made me eat every single one of them.”

“I suspect you became sufficiently ill from that encounter.”

“Oh, yes. To this day, each time I smell the scent of oatmeal cookies, I get sick to my stomach. I’ve not had one since. In fact, I pretty much despise all cookies.” Leaning back, Hogan crossed his arms, turned his head slightly and said lazily, “Now, guys.” In response to the command, the door again opened and two loin cloth clad men entered, bringing with them a large viewscreen, which T’Pol immediately associated with movie night aboard Enterprise.

It was at that point that T’Pol wondered exactly what the colonists’ stance on technology was. On one hand, they claimed to shun it – as the eyewear and bathing facilities would seem to indicate. Yet, there were also plenty of examples of acquired alien technology as well as human advancements such as the medical facility and the viewscreen.

Turning back towards T’Pol, Hogan asked, “Do they have cookies on Vulcan?”

“No.”

“That’s too bad, T’Pol, because we’re going to be using the same type of punishment on you that my mother used on me all those years ago. Our government has been hesitant to okay the tests for any humans. While Vulcans certainly are inferior to us, I suppose you are a bit more advanced than lab rats. So, I really must thank you for breaking our laws, though I am quite impressed you passed the meat challenge.”

Again, T’Pol thought of gagh, Da’Tarq, honor, and the “tests” she had been subjected to during her time with the Klingons. She knew that, had Da’Tarq been here, he would have advocated something akin to ripping out Hogan’s spleen, or perhaps his liver, because it was quite obvious the human had no conception of that which mattered so much to the Klingons T’Pol had known.

“You seem to get as much pleasure from Commander Tucker as I once got from oatmeal cookies, T’Pol. As one scientist to another, I’m sure you can appreciate my desire to test that theory.” Hogan stood and motioned for the other men to follow him.

It was only minutes later that the viewscreen flickered on to reveal herself standing next to a recently awoken Commander Tucker.

“Shortly after you departed I received an encrypted message from Soval.”

“I do not doubt that. You are, after all, quite stubborn. However, I attribute your absence in my dream state to your absence and our bond.”

Though the pain in her head was still evident, the significance of the discomfort lessened as another sensation began to develop. At first, T’Pol mistook the sensation as the simple contentment that she had become accustomed to in Commander Tucker’s presence. As the scene progressed, it became obvious to T’Pol that the sensation was much stronger than mere contentedness.

“Oh. Hey, since we’ve both been having a crappy week without any sleep, maybe we should have a therapy session before we attempt sleep again?”
“That would seem prudent. Disrobe.”

T’Pol’s back straightened and her fists curled as an even stronger wave of the same sensation washed over her. The scientist in T’Pol was able to recognize that whatever was happening to her was not a natural biological response. Disregarding the obvious fact that no Vulcan ever experienced emotions such as this one with such startling clarity, the feeling was too regulated, and increased on specific intervals, as though it was being artificially manipulated.

Her scientific inquiry was cut short as the view screen showed her hands roaming across Commander Tucker’s back. Had T’Pol been a different species, it is quite likely she would have gasped at the intensity of the sensation that overwhelmed her. As a Vulcan, the most she allowed herself was a deep breath.

For the second time in two weeks, T’Pol found herself attempting to categorize a human emotion. While neither Ensign Sato nor Doctor Phlox were near to give advice, T’Pol realized that her best hope for controlling what was happening to her was to first diagnose the sensation.

It was a complicated sensation, and not at all a painful one. In fact, it was the very opposite of pain, or of the panic she had felt during Commander Tucker’s absence.

“No one said anything about a club, T’Pol.”

“Okay, now it’s your turn.”

As Commander Tucker’s fingers began to manipulate the nerves in her back, the sensation doubled in intensity. It was as she watched herself and the engineer on screen that T’Pol realized the sensation she was experiencing was not a foreign one. On the contrary, it was the very same sensation she had often known during her neuropressure sessions with Commander Tucker.

It was pleasure.

Though not a negative sensation at all, the intensity of the pleasure was inappropriate for any Vulcan who professed to follow the path of Surak. Wallowing in any emotion was a direct affront to everything Surak had stood for. T’Pol closed her eyes for a moment, in an attempt to steady herself, and immediately felt a small, painful jolt.

“Tsk, tsk, T’Pol,” came Hogan’s voice, though she saw no sign of him. “We’ve provided such excellent entertainment for you. We expect you to watch it.”

“I look forward to our reading too, T’Pol.”

“That is sufficient. Thank you, Charles.”

On screen, she was pulling her shirt back on. T’Pol waited in anticipation for the sensation she was experiencing to end. Instead, the screen returned to the beginning, as did the waves of pleasure.

Silently, T’Pol began to recite the meditation recitals she had learned as a child. Though they were not immediately successful, T’Pol was certain that she possessed the proper techniques to suppress the unwelcome emotion. The alternative was not an option – not for a Vulcan.

~~~

A/N: This chapter was severely delayed for two main reasons. One, I was working on finishing up “Fulfilled.” Two, recent world events by certain “soldiers” who deserve to be dropped in the Sahara without water made me seriously contemplate dropping this story all together. When I decided to continue it, I had to re-shape and re-work the plot. Regardless, T’Pol’s experience is still difficult for me to write, much more so than it would have been prior to recent events.

A/N, II: What’s going on with T’Pol may or may not make sense at this stage. More will be revealed later.

Chapter 15

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A whole mess of folks have made comments

Wow! I really like this story! I hope that some inspiration comes to you soon.

As for that 'soldier', well, I hope it's not a reference to me or something *looks around waiting for the balck helicopters to show up*.

I throughly enjoy this story. I truly hope that you will not let world event influence the vision that you have. I hope that youre reworking doesn't deviate too much from your original work

Oooh, T'Pol's *punishment* is an overdose of Trip? Hmmm, she may end up on wanting to be rescued at this rate... Ali D :~)

Too much Trip is a good thing! Does this dude have smell-o-vision? T'pol deserves the entire experience! ;)

T'pol's "punishment" is very reminiscent of Clockwork Orange. Is Trip-avoidance the end product of the procedure? And is this Hogan guy just a sadist, or does he have some kind of plan for T'pol? I have no doubt that all the bad karma he's putting out into the universe will come back and bite him in the ass, but I hope we will get to see it!

Keep this going! I want to know how this will all end!

Lt B, Of course I wasn't talking about you! :)

vandiver/Triplover, fear not, for I am stubborn.

Ali/PK, well. . . kind of. Next chappy or two, all should make sense.

Ragua, wouldn't know. Never seen Clockwork Orange. Hogan isn't very nice, is he?

A colony of two hundred lunitics, traitors with ties to the Andorans? If I was archer I would put them all under my guns, make an example of their capital building, send down an occupation force and remove the leadership for trial for mass murder. Killing a third of one's own people would be hard to explain. At the very least I would beam up T'Pol and tell the idiots to go shit in their hat. If they can't dig a septic system for two hundred people without help, they don't deserve to survive.

^^ Very trigger happy me thinks... :)

What is it about these extremist's that would make Earth even want to maintain a dipomatic relationship with? I don't get it. However, it shouldn't surprise me when I think of how Governments in the past or the present for that matter have supported extremist's with similar views. I do like the way this story parallels current world events. I'm interest to read how this is all resolved.