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"Want Of A Nail"
Rating: G Part 4 Trip woke up feeling like he had been dragged uphill over a lava field. Movement was not good. Not good at all. T’Pol was gone but he could hear her murmuring somewhere nearby along with Elizabeth’s gurgles. He smiled despite the fact that it made his face hurt. Trip came out from behind the curtain moving very slowly and carefully. He would be willing to swear that he could hear every joint in his body creak. T’Pol was feeding Elizabeth a bottle under Phlox’s watchful eye. The baby was happily gorging herself, hanging onto the bottle with both hands and both feet like a monkey. T’Pol looked concerned. “She isn’t supposed to be doing that.” “What?” Trip stepped forward. “You mean hang on with her feet? Human babies do it all the time. She will outgrow it. Don’t worry about it.” “He’s right Commander,” Phlox soothed the anxious mommy. “It is entirely typical behavior for a human infant. She is merely stretching and exercising her body, trying out her abilities.” T’Pol’s expression cleared and she looked up at Trip in relief. He smiled and bent forward to kiss her. At the last minute he happened to think and adjusted his aim to hit her cheek. She looked surprised and not pleased. “Sorry, hun,” he said drawing back. “No way would I inflict this morning breath on you. In fact I need a shower so bad that I fear for the health and safety of Phlox’s critters if I don’t get one pretty soon.” T’Pol wrinkled her nose and nodded. “You are in fact becoming quite pungent. It might be advisable to shower before the Vulcan Healers arrive later this morning to examine Elizabeth.” “Say what?” Trip bristled. “Why do they want to poke and prod at her?” “They don’t believe me,” Phlox said with irritation in his voice. “The Vulcan Science Directorate has officially gone on record that Human and Vulcan DNA are incompatible. Therefore a Human/Vulcan hybrid is inherently impossible. Therefore I must be mistaken.” “So screw ‘em,” Trip growled. “We know the truth. What difference does it make if a bunch of narrow minded fools refuse to see what’s in front of them?” “Please husband,” T’Pol touched his hand as a tingle ran through Trip’s spine. “Husband,” he thought. “I like the sound of that. I REALLY like the sound of that.” A foolish grin spread over his face. He replied, “What is it... Mrs. Tucker?” He was still grinning. T’Pol said earnestly, “Dr. Phlox’s results are sufficient to establish Elizabeth’s parentage by Earth law. Captain Archer has consulted with Starfleet’s legal department on our behalf while we slept. Apparently there is legal precedent for cloned children that was established in the latter part of the 21st century. In compliance with this precedent we are already listed as Elizabeth’s parents. But not under Vulcan law.” “How do they plan to deny it?” Trip said indignantly. “They cannot,” T’Pol said simply, “if we allow them to confirm Dr. Phlox’s results themselves. T’Pau’s new government is willing to acknowledge that many of the old Science Directorate’s findings were based on political expediency rather than fact. But before an established ruling can be officially overturned the Vulcan government will require a Vulcan Healer to provide evidence from their own investigation to contradict the previous finding.” “In other words Commander Tucker,” Phlox said in aggravation, “it is a bureaucratic formality. But a necessary one if your daughter is going to claim her Vulcan citizenship.” “Well, all right,” Trip grumbled. “But they better not give me any attitude. I am not in the mood to put up with it.” “Nor am I husband,” T’Pol told him. “They will not.” Trip staggered off to his quarters for a scalding shower and vigorous tooth brushing. A chin scrape and new uniform later found him headed back to sickbay. The entire alpha shift bridge crew was gathered around a nervous looking T’Pol making ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ sounds over Elizabeth. The kid was eating it up and putting on a show for her audience. She ran through her entire list of talents. She kicked, she squealed, she drooled, she jabbered, she grabbed, she squirmed, she jackknifed, she blew spit bubbles, and for a grand finale she even burped some upchuck. For some obscure reason Hoshi looked gratified at being granted the honor of wiping it off, Trip was unable to fathom why. “Who’s running the ticket booth?” Trip asked. Travis turned around and shot him a snicker. “We caught Phlox’s back turned and sneaked in, then Ensign Sato gave him the puppy eyes until he agreed to let us stay a few minutes. We are on the way to the bridge to start our shift and we all decided to drop in as a mob. Figured it would be easier to overwhelm resistance that way.” “Since you brought it up,” Hoshi sighed, “we better get moving or the captain is going to overwhelm us when we show up late for our shift.” After the visitors left Trip suggested to T’Pol, “If you want a turn at a shower, now’s your chance. I can play with Lizzie while you rinse off, then we can grab some breakfast before the stone faces get here.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Stone faces? Is that how you really see us?” Trip stopped in his tracks and sighed. “No. No. No.” He looked at the ceiling. “I was talking about the crotchety old farts that always seem to end up getting sent out as government reps for this kind of thing. Not you hun, you know better than that.” T’Pol stood up and handed the baby to him. Then she gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I see you have taken care of the ‘morning breath’ problem. I believe your suggestion of a hot shower has merit. Let’s go.” T’Pol felt an odd sense of anti-climax when she walked into her quarters. They looked exactly the same as they had for the last year. How could they be unchanged when everything else in her entire existence had been so radically altered? Trip headed for her bunk with the baby and let Elizabeth stretch out for some cooing and thrashing. T’Pol watching the pair of them with an indescribable feeling in her belly for a few seconds. Then she put down the diaper bag and turned toward her closet to select a clean uniform. Trip looked up at the sound of the zipper. He watched his new wife slide out of her uniform casually and tried to swallow a dry cannonball. T’Pol normally kept her quarters warmer than the ship’s standard temperature, but he never realized before just how warm it really was in here. Sweat rose up on various parts of his anatomy. That wasn’t the only thing either. T’Pol turned to face him with her eyes wide and a little bit mischievous. She slid off her upper undergarment, then stepped out of her lower one. The scent of Trip’s pheromones was thick in the air. She smiled and told him in a husky whisper, “Soon beloved. I promise you.” “I... uh... I know...” Trip gulp and cleared his throat. “I mean I know you need to... uh... shower ‘cause... I mean... the... uh... I mean... you know... the Vulcan guys are coming and you... I mean you don’t wanna meet them like that... I don’t mean like that... I mean without a shower. You know what I mean. Doncha?” She sputtered helplessly and for the first time since he had known her, Trip heard T’Pol cut loose with an honest to goodness giggle. It was only a second and a half long, but by Cochrane it was a real giggle. He grinned until his cheeks hurt. She walked over to kiss him and he pulled her close for a long embrace. Her planned quick one turned into a deeply passionate encounter that threatened to advance to bigger and better things. Fortunately for decorum Elizabeth reminded them forcefully of her presence with a loud squawk. They broke apart in sudden realization of circumstances. “I will not make you wait much longer husband,” T’Pol swore as she gently disengaged herself from Trip’s arms. Trip took a deep breath and nodded. As T’Pol turned to walk toward her shower Trip jokingly told his daughter, “Between you and your momma I am gonna be white haired before I am forty.” T’Pol stumbled and grabbed the doorway with a loud gasp. Suddenly she whirled around and dove back to Trip, seizing him in a tight hug. “Hey! What is it? C’mon now, what’s wrong, hun?” Trip hugged her tight and started rubbing her back. Then he thought a moment and reached carefully around to find the proper neural nodes. He delicately applied pressure in the sequence she had taught him to induce relaxation. Gradually her breathing steadied. She still kept a tight grip around him with both arms. Trip shifted her to his lap and locked arms around her waist to hold her there. “Tell me, what’s going on?” he demanded firmly. “No evasion. No ifs, ands, or buts. I wanna know what’s wrong and I wanna know now.” “I am sorry. I am so sorry,” she told him in a broken whisper. “For what?” he asked. “Getting upset? How many times have you been around me when I got torn up about something? Come on honey, that’s nothing to be sorry for.” Even before he finished speaking she was shaking her head. “No. I am sorry for being unworthy of you.” “Bullshit,” Trip shot back automatically. He pulled his face back to stare at her in disbelief. “What kind of foolishness is that? Unworthy of me?” He gaped at her. “Good lord. You? Unworthy of me?” His mouth worked a few times. T’Pol told him in a small voice, “I have never treated you with the respect you deserve. I have never cherished you properly.” “Aw crap,” Trip protested. “If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t be here. I never would have made it through the Expanse without you. How many times did you keep me from cracking up in there? And all the time you were doing it while you were sick yourself from what that sonuvabitch Tolaris did to you.” She wiped her eyes. “I brought that upon myself as well. I agreed to the meld at first.” “Stop this,” Trip started to get angry. “Stop this right now. Where is this coming from all of a sudden T’Pol? That...” Trip caught himself. He took a few breaths and went on in a calmer voice. “He attacked you. I only wish you had trusted me enough then to tell me what happened. He would have accidentally returned to his ship by way of the wrong airlock.” She looked touched and exasperated at the same time. “Trip,” but he stopped her with a kiss. “Listen to me,” he instructed. “You want to talk about respect and treating people right? Am I going to have to pay for all the harassment I piled on you when you first came to Enterprise? Remember all the grief I gave you about being Vulcan? If we start keeping score about who owes which the bigger payback we are both in trouble.” “That’s not what I mean-” “Shush,” Trip kissed her again. “We got through it. We survived it all and we are together now. Let go of it. I love you lady. I have loved you since the Expanse, but I was too chicken to say it. Now that you have finally had the guts to break through for both of us I am not letting anything get in the way.” He held her eyes adoringly. “We have each other now, and we have this little squirt trying to roll over and crawl off the bed! Holy Crap!” Trip lunged and grabbed Elizabeth’s legs. T’Pol stood up more leisurely and sat down to take her arms. “There’s no way! She is way too little to be trying stuff like that!” Trip babbled in near panic. T’Pol gave him an odd look. “No, she is not husband. She would not have succeeded of course. But it is entirely normal for Vulcan babies to be making the attempt at her age.” Trip stared slack jawed and moaned painfully, “Oh ma-a-a-an. I just hope she isn’t a climber.” “A climber?” T’Pol looked up sharply. Trip nodded. “My folks tell me I started trying to climb the furniture about the same time I started trying to walk. When I was two, Dad caught me at the top of the front porch post, hanging off the edge of the roof.” Trip saw T’Pol flinch and hurried to do damage control. “Remember her Vulcan genes are dominant,” he reminded her comfortingly. “She probably won’t take after me like that.” “We can hope,” T’Pol said with quiet intensity. “If you are sure you can handle things I will go ahead with my shower now. We have one hour and 48 minutes until the Vulcan Healers arrive.” -&- Malcolm Reed keyed the lock and stood to one side to let Captain Archer step into the cell. He followed and closed the door behind him. Massaro sat miserably on the bunk staring down at the deck between his feet. The two senior officers regarded the prisoner with a liberal mixture of disgust and contempt, mixed with a generous seasoning of righteous anger. Archer said evenly, “Ensign Massaro.” The prisoner lifted his head. He bore the expression of a man who expected the worst and was trying to resign himself to it, but hadn’t quite gotten there yet. Malcolm judged that a firm hand was likely to get the best results with this one so he barked, “On your feet Ensign! Attention!” Massaro jumped by reflex and snapped to attention like a cadet. Archer let him stand and sweat for a while as he paced back and forth in front of him, looking him up and down and letting Massaro see his absolute disgust. Finally Archer spoke, but to Malcolm instead of Archer. “Remember Azati Prime, Malcolm?” “Yes sir,” Lieutenant Reed replied crisply. “Quite clearly, Sir.” Archer continued to pace and keep his eyes on Massaro while he spoke to Reed. “When I got back to the ship after being interrogated by the Xindi, Phlox hauled me to sickbay for a once over. Guess who was also in a bed there?” “I really wouldn’t know, Sir,” Malcolm played along. “A certain engineering ensign who had been badly burned during the fight Malcolm,” Archer answered with a sneer. “It seems this ensign was burned so badly that he couldn’t even see. So his commanding officer, Commander Tucker, led him out of the flames and escorted him to sickbay himself.” “Not surprising, Sir,” Malcolm replied. “Commander Tucker’s loyalty to the people under his command is well known to everyone on the ship.” “Yes. It is, isn’t it?” Archer stopped and looked Massaro straight in the face. The prisoner’s chin was trembling. “We know you sabotaged the shuttle Massaro. You almost killed all of us. We also have solid testimony that you were the one who stole the DNA for Terra Prime. Now I am not in any mood to waste time with you or let Malcolm get his hands dirty. So this is how it is going to be. Are you listening Ensign Massaro?” “Yessir. I am listening, Sir.” Massaro’s voice was a whispering squeak. “Excellent,” Archer hissed. “Listen very carefully because I have no intention of repeating myself. Do you realize that you haven’t just committed a crime under Earth law? By stealing Commander T’Pol’s DNA, you have committed a crime against a citizen of Vulcan. That makes you subject to Vulcan law as well as the Starfleet Code of Justice.” Massaro started to look queasy. Archer smiled very coldly and pushed his face closer. “Have you heard of something that Vulcans can do called a mind meld? It lets them use their telepathy to dig down into a person’s mind and rip out EVERYTHING that is in there.” At Archer’s sudden shout Massaro jumped and spasmed. Archer continued icily, “I mean everything Massaro. Every single thing you have ever done wrong. Everything in your entire life that you have ever been ashamed of, all the way back to the time you swiped your classmate’s cookie when you were five. Would you like to go through that Massaro? Would you like to have a Vulcan come in here and take those alien fingers of theirs, put them on your skull, and...” Massaro fell back onto the bunk and curled up into a whimpering ball. “Please! No. Please...” He shivered and tightened even further. Archer decided to quit before he drove the poor coward into catatonic terror. He waved Malcolm to take over. Lieutenant Reed stepped forward. “We want it all Massaro. We want names, dates, places. We want every contact you have. We want passwords. We want drop off points. We want chain of command. We all the details of how the money was handled. We want everything you have and we want it right now. Not in fifteen minutes Massaro. Now. There are three Vulcans on their way up from the planet that are due to arrive in eleven minutes. If you aren’t talking a blue streak when they get here...” They couldn’t shut him up. They literally could not shut him up. Finally Malcolm called in two more security officers and Archer went back to the bridge. It looked like Massaro wasn’t going to run dry anytime in the near future. -&- The Healers looked about like Trip had expected. There were three of them, two old men and one old woman. None of them looked overjoyed at the unique opportunity they were having to visit a human starship. T’Pol got up and walked over to join Phlox in meeting them at the door to sickbay. Trip remained seated on the edge of the biobed and picked up Elizabeth, holding her protectively to his chest. He seriously considered putting his foot down and refusing to let any of the Vulcans near his daughter. They hadn’t said a word yet and he already didn’t like them, just from the ‘something stinks in here’ expressions on their faces. T’Pol offered the split fingered greeting that was becoming standard since the discovery of the Kirshara. “Peace and long life to you all.” “Live long and prosper,” the oldest looking man replied. “I am S’Lask, this is Kerlek and T’Rul. We are here to examine the clone and conduct genetic testing on it.” Trip’s anger flashed through the bond hot and fast enough to make T’Pol stiffen involuntarily. “This is Dr. Phlox,” she forced her voice to remain quietly controlled, “our chief medical officer. He has been the physician in charge of our daughter’s care.” S’Lask and the others immediately turned to Phlox and started ignoring T’Pol. They fired off medical jargon at warp speed for several moments while T’Pol stood by and listened. Trip sat and steamed. Finally, after examining Phlox’s equipment and pronouncing it barely adequate, the Vulcans were ready to start. S’Lask looked around sickbay and saw Trip holding Elizabeth. “Is that the clone?” he demanded. Phlox put in quickly, “Yes. That is baby Elizabeth. Commander Tucker, Elizabeth’s father, is holding her.” “Bring it here,” S’Lask commanded. Trip’s nostrils flared. He did not move. But to T’Pol’s profound and heartfelt gratitude, he did not speak either. “We cannot examine the clone from over there Commander,” S’Lask said condescendingly. “Bring it here so that we can begin our analysis.” “Why should I?” Trip asked mildly. Much too mildly. After four years of close association with Charles Tucker III, Phlox did not like the sound of that tone at all. He started easing his way over to the sedative shelf and palmed a hypo. S’Lask looked flabbergasted. The three Healers traded looks of incomprehension. T’Pol closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable. There was no way to stop it now. T’Rul said carefully, as if to one of extremely low intelligence, “This was the purpose of our visit. We came here to analyze the genetic makeup of the clone and determine its ancestry. The arrangements were made through official diplomatic channels and approved by Starfleet command.” Trip smiled tightly and stood up. He walked over slowly with Elizabeth in his arms, stopping a few paces away from the Vulcans. “First of all,” he said in a voice so low that even Vulcan ears found it soft, “my daughter is not an ‘it’. My daughter is a person. She has a name. Her name is Elizabeth Tucker. Do you customarily refer to your patients as ‘it’?” Healer Kerlek had been keeping his mouth shut through all of this. After watching and listening he finally offered, “No offense was intended Commander. Your point is taken however. Your daughter will be referred to by her proper name hereafter.” Trip eyed him speculatively. Then he went on. “Second, I don’t care if the Vulcan High Council, the president of Earth, and every damn admiral in Starfleet comes in here personally and gives you permission. Elizabeth is a minor child and T’Pol and I are her parents. We hold final authority over things like this and under human law no one has the right to overrule us. You don’t need Starfleet’s permission to examine Elizabeth. You don’t need Phlox’s permission. You don’t need any diplomat’s permission. You need mine. And you need T’Pol’s. Is That Clear?” “Perfectly,” S’Lask said grudgingly. “Good. Because the last thing I want you to remember is this,” Trip paused to look at T’Pol. “I am only permitting this so that my daughter can claim her Vulcan citizenship. This is for T’Pol’s sake, not mine. I personally don’t care if you believe us or not.” He gave Elizabeth to her mother and told her in a much louder voice, “I am going down to engineering for a while. I don’t know what Vulcan law says, but this is Earth jurisdiction and Elizabeth is an Earth citizen. As her mother you have the right to stop this at any time, with or without a reason. They have no authority to do anything at all without your express permission.” He turned and stalked away without looking back, still simmering. Kerlek sounded interested, “The humans have already granted her citizenship?” “Yes,” T’Pol answered in satisfaction. “Humans do not discriminate based on method of conception or gestation, unlike some races. On Earth it does not matter if one is conceived naturally, or through in-vitro fertilization, or cloned. Under human law our daughter is entitled to the same rights and protections as any other citizen.” T’Rul blinked in surprise and looked at Elizabeth with a different expression than before. “Even if it were proven that the... child was constructed using 50% of your genes you do realize that you would need to file for recognition before the High Council before she would be listed as a citizen, do you not? And even then since she was artificially gestated she will never be specifically listed as your daughter under our law, but rather as a genetic derivative.” T’Pol gritted her teeth. She forced out, “I am aware of all this. But at least she will be recognized as a Vulcan citizen by right of heritage.” S’Lask let out a puff of air that was almost a sigh and suggested, “Let us proceed. The sooner we begin the sooner we can settle this matter.” T’Pol insisted on remaining close throughout the entire examination. At several points Elizabeth started getting upset and T’Pol made the Healers stop while mommy gave comfort and made it all better. The Vulcans could barely contain their impatience. At one point S’Lask snapped, “We will likely be here all day at this rate.” T’Pol raised her eyes from her baby and told him simply, “I am sure that you can find the exit whenever the desire to leave becomes irresistible.” S’Lask shut up. Finally they were done with the poking and prodding. The analysis didn’t take nearly as long as collecting the samples. Phlox didn’t even try to contain his satisfaction at the naked chagrin on the Vulcan’s faces when they saw the results start to come in. They re-ran the analysis, then re-ran it again. Finally Kerlek walked into Phlox’s office, where T’Pol and the doctor were sitting over tea and quietly observing Elizabeth’s napping form. Phlox straightened in his chair. “Healer Kerlek, have you finished your work?” His normal amiable smile had a trace of friendly malice in it. The Vulcan stood ramrod straight. “Doctor Phlox, I believe that we all owe you an apology for questioning your results. I confess that it is most disconcerting to realize information which one has relied upon is in fact undependable. However, there is no denying the data. The child Elizabeth Tucker is unmistakably a binary clone produced by combining the genetic material of Commander T’Pol with genetic material from the human Commander Tucker. You were correct all along and we were wrong to question your findings. On behalf of the Vulcan Science Directorate, I ask your pardon.” “I must say,” Phlox told her in a wondering voice as he stood up, “I don’t really know what to say. That is most gracious of you. An apology wasn’t really necessary, but I certainly do appreciate it very much. I am glad for Elizabeth’s sake that she will be able to claim her rightful heritage on both of her parent’s worlds now.” “Indeed.” Kerlek turned to T’Pol. “Commander T’Pol. Our report will make special note that Earth has already recognized Elizabeth as a full citizen, and specifically acknowledges you as her mother. I do not know how much weight this will carry under our laws, but I doubt that it will do any harm.” “That is most agreeable,” T’Pol bowed her head gratefully. “I will contact Ambassador Soval as soon as possible to file the necessary request for a hearing to establish Elizabeth’s Vulcan citizenship.” Kerlek told her, “In the interim our certification of her Vulcan blood will be sufficient to authorize access to all facilities of the compound. If I may suggest, the temperature aboard this ship is rather cool. The Vulcan compound can supply warm baby clothing and related supplies that you may find useful.” T’Pol was pleased. “That is a most logical suggestion Healer Kerlek. I will contact Commander Tucker to make arrangements for us to visit the compound immediately.” Kerlek kept his mouth shut about the idea of letting the belligerent Tucker set foot inside the Vulcan area. It was none of his business and, after all, the human was the baby’s father. |
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