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"The Logic of Emotion" by Lady Rainbow Rating: PG-13 From Chapter 3 onwards, we’ll be alternating between present time (Trip telling the story to the E Crew) and the past (Trip at the Vulcan Consulate). The plot thickens...Trip finds out that all isn’t as peaceful and harmonious as it seems at the Consulate... Timeline note: In this AU Universe, the Vulcans make first contact in 2063 like the “real universe”, so Trip’s story (in 2145) occurs only 82 years after First Contact here. There are still some wrinkles in Vulcan/Human relations to be ironed out. Thanks, Pesterfield, for the edit. :) Three Trip’s Quarters, Enterprise, 19 March 2155 “Wait a minute...you thought I was some old, crotchety guy with an attitude problem?” Trip chuckled at the nonplussed look on Jon’s face. “I didn’t know it was you, remember? From what T’Lydya told me, that was the image I got in my mind’s eye. Sorry.” T’Pol inclined her head. “T’Lydya? I believe she had interned in T’Pau’s department before coming to San Francisco.” “That’s right. I think T’Lydya said once that T’Pau taught her everything she knew.” She nodded. “She was so much like her aunt. I met her once, while I was briefly at the Security Ministry. Very calm, collected...I wanted to be like her.” Trip raised his eyebrows. “That’s right...you were at the Security Ministry for, what, a year?” “Eighteen months. It was not a pleasant experience...but T’Pau and T’Lydya made it more tolerable.” Trip opened his mouth to say something else, but his door chimed. “Enter!” he called. Commander Travis Mayweather stuck his head in the door. “Hey, is this a private party or can anyone join in?” “C’mon in, Travis. The more, the merrier.” Trip gestured for Travis to take a chair while Jon poured him a generous splash of the bourbon. “I was just tellin’ a story.” “This oughta be good,” Travis said as he made himself comfortable. "What story?” “How I met Jon and Ambassador Soval. Lucky you came in close to the beginning. Just told them about the first reception at the Vulcan Consulate in San Fran.” Jon matched Travis’s broad grin. “And he’d thought I was some old, crotchety geezer.” “Like I said, blame T’Lydya. She had me thinkin’ you were.” Trip summarized the story so far, and Travis nodded. “Well, it being your birthday and all that, thought I’d give you a little gift.” The first officer handed a basket to Trip. It was decorated with blue and green ribbons and filled to the brim with a dozen oranges. “Oranges? Fresh oranges? Don’t tell me you raided Chef’s stash.” “He’d kill me if I did. I got this from my brother on the Horizon.” Travis grinned and gave him a shrug. “I told him you were from Florida and he sent this over.” “Gotta send him a thank-you note too. Thanks, Travis.” Trip set the basket on his desk and its citrus scent filled the air. “All right, if we’re all settled, lemme get back to the story—“ Vulcan Consulate, San Francisco, March 11, 2145 Captain Ramirez and Trip spent the entire afternoon going over security protocols for the Consulate, specifically as concerning both Diplomat Archer and Ambassador Soval. Trip had heard of Soval, the Vulcan ambassador to Earth for the past nineteen years, but had never met him. “You’ll get your chance in the next few days,” Ramirez said with a slight smile. “He’s off-planet now, attending the wedding ceremony of his mother’s first cousin, but he’s due back soon.” “Vulcan family trees are enough to give anyone a headache,” Trip quipped. “Everyone seems to be related to everyone else in some way.” “Not quite everyone,” Ramirez said with a chuckle. “Vulcan’s a big planet. Ever been there?” “Nope, though I’d like to see it sometime.” Finally, Ramirez showed him to his new quarters, just down the hall from Archer’s and around the corner from Trip’s new office. Trip was surprised that he, a mere ensign, had been assigned an office, of all things. Ramirez said it was standard for anyone working at the Consulate. “Dinner is at nineteen-hundred hours in the Dining Room, Ensign. I’ll come by and pick you up.” “Thanks, Captain. I appreciate your help, sir.” After Ramirez left, he settled into his new home. There were several messages on his computer terminal: one from Major T’Lydya, one from his mother back in Florida, and one from a Doctor Samirah. Trip frowned and accessed the last message. A dark-skinned Human female smiled at him from the screen. “Hello, Ensign Tucker. My name is Doctor Janeese Samirah,” she said with a soft, exotic accent. “Starfleet Medical in Cape Canaveral have forwarded your records to the main Medical complex here in San Francisco. I am one of three Human doctors assigned to the Consulate. Please return my call as soon as possible to schedule your baseline physical. If I am not here, leave a message with either Doctor Ayakamura or Doctor Reed and I will get back to you. Thank you very much.” Trip sighed and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Knew that was coming,” he muttered. He enjoyed physicals about as much as having a root canal at the dentist. “Might as well get this over with.” His call to Samirah’s office was transferred to one of the other doctors. The petite Asian woman on the screen looked up at him with a bright smile. “Ensign Tucker? I’m Doctor Michiko Ayakamura. Doctor Samirah said you would call.” Her cheerful voice brought a smile to Trip’s face. “Yeah, I got her message. I need to schedule an appointment with her.” “Shouldn’t be a problem, Ensign—“ There was a slight chime from behind her and she said, “Excuse me. That’s my pager.” She glanced down and read the message on it. “Hm. Looks like I’m going to have to cover some extra patients. Let me transfer you to Doctor Samirah’s assistant and she’ll get you set up straightaway.” “Thanks, Doctor Ayakamura.” To Trip’s surprise, scheduling the appointment was a lot easier than he’d expected. Then again, Starfleet Medical in San Francisco was at least twice as big as the one at Cape Canaveral, and expediency was critical in a place like that. Suddenly, someone pounded on his door. Trip jumped, his hand going to the sidearm at his belt. “Who is it?” “It’s Captain Ramirez.” The captain’s voice was calm, but Trip heard a note of panic in it. He went to the door and opened it to find a slightly flustered Ramirez. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have Major T’Lydya escort you to dinner tonight, Ensign Tucker. I just got a call from Doctor Reed.” “Your wife’s having the baby?” Trip asked. No wonder Ramirez looked like a nervous wreck. He nodded. “I’ve got to get to the Medical Complex.” “Then you’d better get going, sir. Babies won’t wait.” Trip realized that must have been the page that Doctor Ayakamura had gotten during their conversation. She must have had to take over Reed’s regular duties at the office. “You sure you’re going to be all right? T’Lydya isn’t the easiest person to get along with—“ “I’ll be fine. Go, Cap’n, or your wife’s gonna be mad at you.” “I have the feeling she’s going to be mad at me anyway.” Ramirez gave him a weak smile, then hurried down the hall. Trip watched him go. Poor guy, Trip thought. Then he realized he’d have to spend the evening with a cranky Vulcan. Yeesh. Poor me. “This stuff’s pretty good. What is it?” T’Lydya raised an eyebrow in surprise and her mouth tightened somewhat. For a moment, Trip feared she was going to get angry, but he saw the unwilling sparkle in her eyes. The Vulcan was trying (and failing, at least according to Trip) to hide her humor. “That is called pok tar, Ensign. We usually have it for evening meal.” “I’ve had some vegetarian dishes, but this one rates near the top of the list.” She inclined her head. “I will let Chef Sunet know of your approval.” The dinner party included several Vulcans and a few Humans, but Trip noticed the two groups kept their distance from each other. In fact, he caught a few suspicious glances from the Human contingent, and more than a few from the Vulcans. Trip had to remind himself that although Vulcans and Humans had known each other for eighty-two years, there were still some issues between the two races. Some Humans, like Archer, Ramirez and himself didn’t have any trouble working with Vulcans, but that didn’t mean others wouldn't have a problem with it. “Ensign Tucker? May I speak with you for a moment?” The quiet, polite voice over his shoulder held a hint of apology. Trip glanced at the man and noticed the uniform. MACO. He hadn’t know there were any assigned to the Consulate, but it didn’t surprise him. “Of course, Mister—“ “Kemper, sir. Corporal Nathan Kemper, of the 521st Division, sir.” Trip raised his eyebrows. “521st, huh? Pleasure to meet you, Corporal.” He glanced at T’Lydya, who was not at all pleased at being interrupted, but he noticed she hadn’t ordered Kemper away. “Permission to withdraw for a moment, Major?” She nodded, but not without spearing Kemper with a look of disapproval. “Granted, Ensign.” Kemper led him to the garden just outside the Dining Room. “Sorry to interrupt your meal, but I thought I’d give you fair warning, sir.” Trip frowned, though he had an idea of why. “Fair warning, Corporal? About what?” “I don’t know if you’ve noticed it yet, but there’s some tension between us and the Vulcans over certain areas,” Kemper said. He lowered his voice, although he really didn’t need to. “Some of my colleagues are convinced the Vulcans are arrogant, condescending and just want to be a pain to Humans in general.” “And you?” “I don’t share the same sentiments, sir. They keep it in check when Diplomat Archer is around, or Ambassador Soval, but when they aren’t...it can get rather ugly, sir.” No wonder T’Lydya looks like she’s swallowed a gallon of prune juice, Trip reflected. “Some Vulcans aren’t happy with us, either, but we gotta learn to work together, whether they like it or not.” He nodded. “Thanks for the warning, Corporal.” “You’re welcome, sir. I gotta get back...I told ‘em that I was gonna warn you about the Vulcans; they think you’re under their spell or somethin’.” Trip snorted. “Not likely. I’ll be careful, Corporal. Hey, why don’t you stop by my office tomorrow and you can tell me more about what’s going on around here?” “No problem sir. Captain Ramirez was planning on telling you anyway, but—“ Kemper shrugged. “It might be a bit tense with him not around now.” “I’ll keep an eye out. Thanks again.” Kemper saluted with perfect military precision, then turned on his heel and strode back into the Dining Hall. Trip watched him go, sighed and shook his head. This is gonna be a long night. As he followed in Kemper’s wake, he became very aware of T’Lydya’s gaze on him. |
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