The Eyes Have It--I

The Eyes Have It

By : Sue

E-MAIL: susieqla@yahoo.com
RATING: PG, friendshippy
SPOILERs: Future Tense
ARCHIVE: Yes.
DISCLAIMER: Enterprise is the property of Paramount. No profit is being made.
SUMMARY: A Sub-Commander, despite her best rigid intentions, sometimes can't help herself...

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Their pet subject, time travel, becomes the topic of conversation once again. As I sip more water, I wonder what fascinates them so about the absurd subject? The Vulcan Science Directorate would enjoy nothing better than carrying out its sober responsibility of disabusing their gullible human minds. Such flagrant irrationality is inexcusable. It is reasonably doubtful that my Terran colleagues would listen.

As Science Officer, I've outlined the errors of their simplistic assumptions. How much plainer can I make it without insulting their fickle intelligence?

Typically, the captain, and the determined Commander Tucker, who picked at his food tonight, resort to the annoying custom of dismissing anything rational I pose along these lines. Their naive assumptions are inviolate. The captain regards crewman Daniels' input as convincing evidence that overwhelms anything I raise in qualification.

The Commander stands and leans away from the table. He excuses himself, just as I'm about to promote another salient fact meant to discourage the existence of time travel. He says there are repairs that require his presence in the engine room. Time isn't irrelevant there, so he says.

Time is constant, impersonal. Why they insist on 'humanizing' inanimate entities, concepts and abstracts I'll never know.

"Sub-Commander..."

Still, as I sip just a little more water and my eyes, almost with a will of their own, follow him to the door, I think that his meticulous attention to detail is one of his more admirable qualities. Ever since the Ambassador's most recent visit, I find myself admiring that quality in him, as well as a host of others, which summon my approval more than I would ever openly admit.

Commander Tucker is no longer present, but my eyes linger where he was moments ago. What is happening to me? He is Human, I, Vulcan. The Science Directorate would vilify me if they knew the thoughts I sometimes entertain about 'Trip...” and me. Another sip of water sharpens my perspective. Undeniably, many of my assumptions have been challenged by these people.

How many more will I subject to clinical re-evaluation perforce of their challenging what has been handed down through the ages by my scholarly antecedents?

"I'm going to contact the High Command..."

This will make the third time within a seventy-two hour period. I raise an eyebrow, wondering what complaint he'll voice this time.

"Apologize for all the trouble we caused them."

That wasn't what I expected. I curb the look of surprise forming on my face. "As the captain of the Tal'Keer pointed out, ' a ship can be replaced.' "

"I also need to thank them for helping us out."

"I'm sure the gesture would be appreciated." I hear the tone of acceptance in my voice, and I suppose I made that sound emotionless enough. I judge that it would be the appropriate time to leave. For some reason that cannot be labeled concrete, I sense the captain wants to make the conversation more personal. I've seen that look in his eyes before; in crewman Daniels' quarters to be precise. Our conversation hasn't left my mind.

I stand, mulling over the idea of going to the engine room to ascertain whether or not the Commander might need my assistance. I am not certain, but I somehow perceive that the captain would prefer that I stay. I hesitate, delaying my immediate departure, and turn to him.

"The High Command has asked me to prepare a report on this incident, with your permission..."

"By all means."

I have no idea what his facial expression conveys. Their emotions, allowed free rein, must not be an easy thing to live with. I am no proficient judge of Human temperament, and it is doubtful I ever will be, but my supposition about his wanting me to stay would seem correct. He appears as if he wishes to say so, but cannot. Instead of requesting that I remain, he says, "...I wonder if they'll believe that Humans and Vulcans will be swapping chromosomes one day?"

Within my own ears, I hear the catch of my breath. They accuse me of being blunt. If that wasn't an invitation, then what does he imply by asking such a thing? Am I reading far too much in his plaintive tone, and wistful look in his eyes that probe me for an answer I cannot possibly give without inciting feelings submerged deep inside myself? Feelings I must never show.

Evenly, always evenly, but with a twist to try one on for size, I reply, "They're more likely to believe in time travel." I turn to leave before seeing if my dabble in repartee brought a smile to his lips.

Who says I don't have a sense of humor?

End

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One person has made comments

I loved T'Pol's quip at the end. Very wry. You really get the sense that T'Pol is walking a tightrope of her own here, with burgeoning feelings threatening to lead her down roads other than those leading to the Vulcan homeworld. I also admire how you have shown her growing understanding and intuitiveness towards her sometimes baffling human colleagues. I am really enjoying this and look forward to the rest of the journey. Thank you, Ali D :~)