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"The Logic of Emotion" by Lady Rainbow Rating: PG-13 Thanks for reading, but please leave a review! I’d like to know what you all think of this story. Like the others in the Switcheroo Series, this helps set some of the groundwork for the rest of the series. This is the next-to-the-last chapter. This clarifies just what happened to Jeremiah (he didn’t quite pull a Gandalf. The info about healing trances is under the “Vulcan” entry on Memory Alpha) and Trip has to deal with some of the aftermath of Terra Prime’s terror. In this AU universe, I modified the rank structure a little. Ensign 1 pip. Lieutenant JG 1 full pip, one “empty” pip, Lieutenant2 pips, Lieutenant Commander2 full pips, 1 empty pip, Commander 3 pips, Captain4 pips. Fourteen “You’re telling me he actually died?” Travis asked. Trip shook his head, then glanced at T’ Pol. “Ae’shalla. I hope I got the pronunciation right.” T’Pol nodded and Malcolm’s face suddenly brightened in understanding. “A healing trance so deep that biosigns hardly register on a medical scanner,” she said. “So for all appearance, Jeremiah—Matthew Hayes—was dead.” “Enough to fool the medic and enough to fool me,” Trip admitted. “I didn’t know it until later, but Soval used his considerable influence to provide a place for him to recover undisturbed. So, Jeremiah ‘died’ and Matt Hayes pretty much took his place.” Hoshi shook her head in wonder. “All they told me was that Matt had been severely injured in a rescue operation and was going home to Colorado Springs to rest. I didn’t see him for two months and by that time, he was reporting back to the Shenandoah. Amazing.” “Apparently, Captain Hayes has a remarkable talent for self-healing on his own,” Malcolm remarked. “And you lost most of your security detachment?” Phlox asked Trip, his eyes shadowed. “Three of them died directly in the blast, including Sergeant Breen, and three more afterward, including Lee Doumaides.” Trip sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Another five were retained for questioning in connection with Terra Prime. That’s eleven right there, out of eighteen active personnel. That doesn’t include some of the support staff and the civilian workers.” Jon’s tone was quiet. “We ended up having to thoroughly clean house after Trip and the others exposed their conspiracy. Starfleet launched their own separate investigation. The press at the time had a field day. Needless to say, Paxton got the publicity he wanted, but none of it good.” Phlox sighed, “A high price to pay to stop a madman.” “The price could’ve been a whole lot higher,” Malcolm commented. “Doctors Ayakamura, Samirah and I had our hands full at Starfleet Medical. It was fortunate for some of the victims that we were so close by. We were able to save their lives.” “So, did you eventually apprehend Paxton?” T’Pol asked. Trip nodded. “Yeah, but that’s another story for another day. We’re close to the end of this one, though the story ain’t quite finished yet...” Vulcan Consulate, San Francisco, the evening of March 19, 2145 His twenty-second birthday so far had been more exciting than he would have liked. He’d woken up in a bed at Starfleet Medical, after having been unconscious for ten hours. Whatever Soval had done to him had eased his physical pain; Doctor Samirah had pronounced him fit for release, not long afterwards. Her remarks about his “amazing healing powers” had made him uncomfortable, but he wasn’t about to tell her the truth. Soval hadn’t been able to heal his inner hurts, though. He’d known that he’d probably would have had to do some unsavory things in the name of duty. Starfleet Security was not for the faint-hearted. Yet in his wildest dreams did he even imagine himself being a spy and betraying all he believed in. If history had been different, would I have been like Lee, or maybe even like Jeremiah? I knew I should’ve transferred into Engineering when I had the chance. Engineers aren’t likely to become spies. “You sound positively morose,” Jon Archer told him as the driver took them to Cochrane Hall, a building on the grounds of Starfleet Command. It served as a temporary Vulcan Consulate while the original Consulate building was being repaired. “Nah, it’s just the adrenaline letdown,” Trip replied as he closed his eyes. He was exhausted, even if his mind refused to stop turning. “I just want to crash, that’s all.” “You feel guilty for what happened.” Trip opened one eye to regard Jon. “Yeah, maybe a little.” “Maybe a lot.” Trip opened both eyes. “Since when have you become a mind reader, Jon?” Jon’s smile was lopsided. “I don’t have to be; it’s written all over your face.” The smile vanished as quickly as it had come. “If it’s any consolation, it’s our fault. Paxton was able to manipulate our people right under our noses. Even Soval had been unaware what was going on. Starfleet Security’s going through a major shakedown right now. But believe me that it could’ve been a lot worse if it hadn’t been for you.” He stubbornly shook his head in denial. “Jon, I betrayed my principles. I conspired with Paxton and his cronies. Hell, I rigged the conference room to blow, and if it hadn’t been for my security comm link, you guys wouldn’t have even known—“ “But you did leave the link open, so we could track you and disarm the bombs. Your audio conversation with Paxton, then with Lee Doumaides afterwards in the Consulate, pretty much implicated Paxton and his group. And you saved my life and the lives of others too. I think Starfleet and the Vulcan High Command will take that under account.” The aircar slowed and stopped in front of Cochrane Hall and Corporal Nathan Kemper opened the door for them. “Welcome back, Diplomat, Ensign.” "Good to see ya, Nate," Trip greeted him. He extended a hand to Nate, who took it and shook it firmly. "Heard you had one wild ride back from Berkley." Nate chuckled and shrugged good-naturedly. "Our shuttle hit 200 kph at one point. I don't think I'm going to let Andrew Chang drive for a long, long time." "Yeah, but you guys managed to get back in time. I owe you guys one." "Naaah," Nate said with an evil grin. "The unit considers you an honorary MACO anyway. Just part of the job." He glanced at Jon and asked, "Diplomat Archer?" “Is everything ready, Nathan?” “All ready whenever you two are,” Nate said with a wink. Trip was immediately suspicious. “All right, what’s going on? What’s—“ He didn’t have time to finish his protest, for both Jon and Nate practically frog-marched him up the stairs and through the front door. The entrance hall was lined with men and women in Security uniforms. “Atten-shun!” Nate hollered, and the guards snapped to attention. Before Trip could say anything, he was swept through the hall and into the main atrium, where Admiral Alastair McGee stood next to Ambassador Soval. Major T’Lydya stood at Soval’s side in full uniform. For the first time, Trip realized that the Security contingent was comprised of Humans and Vulcans. “Attention to orders!” said Admiral McGee. He took out a PADD as Nate and Jon maneuvered Trip in front of him, and Jon took his place on McGee’s left side. “As of today, nineteenth of March, twenty-one forty-five, Ensign Charles S. Tucker the Third is hereby promoted to the rank of lieutenant, junior grade, in recognition of his devotion to duty, above and beyond its call.” Trip’s mouth dropped open, then he realized where he was and closed it. McGee handed Jon an extra rank pip, an open one, and Jon pinned it next to the one full gold one on Trip’s uniform collar. “Congratulations, Lieutenant Tucker.” “Thank you, sir.” He managed to sound somewhat coherent. “I—“ “Both Captain Ramirez and Major T’Lydya recommended you, with endorsements from Diplomat Archer and Ambassador Soval.” McGee’s smile turned wry. “Starfleet couldn’t exactly turn down that kind of thing.” He saluted Trip. “Thank you for all you’ve done.” “You’re welcome, sir. And I would do it again.” Even as Trip said the words, he knew it was the truth. Despite it all, he would do it all again. He returned the salute and as he accepted McGee’s handshake, Jon began the applause and it thundered through the atrium. Trip caught Soval’s slight smile and gave him a nod of gratitude. Much later, Trip found peace and quiet in Cochrane Hall’s one garden. Trip sighed and leaned back against the wall, allowing the coolness to seep through his shirt. Instead of his Starfleet uniform, he now wore civilian clothes, a dark plaid shirt and jeans. “Lieutenant Tucker? Trip?” His eyes widened at the dry voice. “Soval? How—?” “Your emotions blaze in the darkness like a beacon. To one who is attuned to your mind, it is almost...blinding.” “Can’t hide from you, can I?” The ambassador stepped out from the shadows and sat on the bench facing opposite him, folding his long robes out of the way. They sat there in silence for a moment, savoring the coolness of the spring night. “I believe the form of salutation is ‘Happy Birthday’.” Trip gaped at him, as Soval extended his hand, palm-up to him. A silver disc lay there, etched with silver and gold and attached to a chain. Wordlessly, he accepted it. Starlight danced upon it and threw shadows on the terracotta walkway at his feet. “What’s this?” Soval’s mouth curved upward in a slight smile. “It is Vulcan badge of honor, given to those who prove themselves worthy in times of trial. I would be pleased if you accept it.” “Uh...thank you. I’m the one honored.” He allowed Soval to place the chain over his neck, surprised that the ambassador was willing to touch him. Vulcans were touch-telepaths and weren’t keen on extended physical contact. “Your soul is still shadowed, Trip, filled with anger, sorrow and regret.” Trip gazed at him. The glow from his unexpected promotion ceremony had faded and left desolation behind. “Didn’t you say that you understood the darkness now? What’d you mean?” Soval didn’t flinch from the steady stare as he replied, “When I touched Jeremiah’s mind, I felt his last thoughts. He was an honorable man, yet weighed down with responsibility. Regret. Guilt. Vulcans deny such emotions, call them irrational and illogical, yet they can be powerful motivators in times of great distress.” “Yeah. More than we know.” “But there was hope, hope that we would triumph in the end. It was bright, like—“ “—a beacon. I had the feeling you’d used that word deliberately when you described me.” Again, another ghost of a smile played upon Soval’s lips. “Are we so linked that you must finish every sentence I speak?” “Sorry.” Trip didn’t sound the least bit apologetic. “I guess this thing between us is permanent?” “About as close as a family member, I suppose, but not quite as close as bonded mates.” Trip grinned and quipped, “Thank God. I like you, but not that much.” Soval gave him a deadpan expression, but Trip felt his unspoken amusement. “In any case, I felt the same darkness over you when I entered the garden, but now it has lifted.” “A little. I was thinking about what’s gonna happen in the future. We still got a lot of work to do.” “Yes.” Soval nodded, “but it is illogical to dwell on what may or may not come to pass. It is also illogical to allow the darkness to overwhelm your vision.” Trip took a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re right again. Soval—“ “Yes?” “Does this mean you can tell what’s going on in my very soul?” “Not on a consistent basis, but I can tell when you might be a threat to yourself or to others.” “That’s reassuring. I’ve got an early detection and warning system before I do something stupid.” This time Soval allowed the faintest of smiles. “It is called ‘logic’, Trip. Even the basest of emotions have their own unique logic.” Trip chuckled. “You’re learnin’, Soval. You’re learnin’.” |
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