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"Cry Havoc"
By MissAnnThropic
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: None of its mine. I’m just a sad little fangirl that spends her days writing fanfic and watching taped episodes of my favorite shows. :(
Description: The evolution of Trip and T’Pol’s relationship following the events in ‘Harbinger’.
Chapter 14
Packing up their loaned ground transport to head back to Tallahassee was a time of mixed emotions for Trip. It had been refreshing to be home and certainly part of him didn't want to leave. Part of him even felt guilty for leaving, leaving his parents with their faces degrees sadder than they used to be little as a year ago, now bearing the weight of Elizabeth's still-raw death while he went back to work for who knew how long. The other part of him, Enterprise's chief engineer and some of him that was Elizabeth Tucker's brother, was raring to get back to work, to resume their mission against the Xindi.
He wasn't the only one anxious to get back to the ship, apparently. Last night T'Pol's sleep had been fitful at best. She'd been restive, 'tossed and turned' about as much as he figured a Vulcan could, and got out of bed repeatedly, usually to go to his small desk and immerse herself for stretches of time with her PADDs detailing Jupiter Station crews' intentions with the Enterprise scanning arrays and scientific apparatuses.
Trip glanced in T'Pol's direction. She was standing in the driveway with her back to him under the full brunt of the midday sun. It was hot to Trip but he imagined T'Pol enjoyed the temperature; even on its hottest day Quincy was never as sweltering as a moderate day on Vulcan.
"T'Pol."
T'Pol jumped and looked over at Trip.
"Ya ready?"
T'Pol nodded and dutifully turned to face Charles and Kathleen standing near the front door of their home.
Again, T'Pol raised her hand and gave a respectful Vulcan salute. "Farewell, Doctor Tucker and Professor Tucker, live long and prosper."
"It was a pleasure meetin' ya, T'Pol," Charles said and Kathleen smiled in silent support of her husband's words.
With a final hug to both parents, Trip left his family home and the two Enterprise crewmen got in the ground car and left the quaint town of Quincy, Florida.
*****
Trip and T'Pol were the first to return to Jupiter Station and therein Enterprise, but they were not alone for long. Shortly after their arrival Mayweather and Reed showed up, almost immediately on their heels Doctor Phlox... after that it became a steady influx. Everyone was considerably jovial from their short respite from their stressful mission but in short order each person had gotten serious and was swarming around the Jupiter Station work crews on the Enterprise. By noon the next day, the day when the crew was supposed to be getting back from leave, the docked starship was burgeoning once again with her crew. Jupiter Station technicians, who had had uncontested reign over the warp five vessel, were soon overshadowed by the ship's loyal crew. It was almost equal parts completion of their tasks and retreat from the rightful, restored members of Enterprise's crew that spurred the withdraw of Jupiter Station's workers.
The ship was a buzz of diligent work as each person refamiliarized themselves with their stations and equipment, giving the new additions and changes a critical eye. Most were pleased, got used to the upgrades; Trip in engineering dismantled a few choice, displeasing additions until the engines were coming up to par with his own personal specifications of the Enterprise warp core and impulse engine. The Jupiter Station boys about had a coronary but Trip was appeased and that was good enough for Archer. The Jupiter Station crew might be on the cutting edge of theory and design but Archer trusted Trip far more than he trusted the scientists at space dock.
By the time Enterprise was released from space dock and nosing her way into deep space under three-quarters impulse the crew was settled into their work as though they'd never left. Small diagnostics were still being run, Reed was having a field-day poking around the new weapons, but key housekeeping stations were at full functioning capacity. Everything else, everything more specific, could be debugged and placed under close scrutiny on the fly.
A day out from Jupiter Station, Archer was sitting in his command chair watching the last of Sol's familiar system passing by. It was a nostalgic sight and possibly depressing but Archer was trying not to smile at the feel of Enterprise unshackled and on the move again. She was at last free and wild after four days of excruciating (for the captain) captivity.
Archer glanced toward the communications' station in the passing curiosity of whether or not Starfleet Command would contact them once more before the ship went into warp, and the sight of Ensign Baird instead of Hoshi sobered his mood.
The turbolift doors opened and Archer glanced backward. He recognized the red stripe of an engineer coming on the to bridge and merely took note of one of Trip's junior officers.
The junior officer, without a disturbing word, moved over to the back island console and checked some readings with purpose. Trip had been on the go checking and rechecking all the power conduits and power couplings on the ship, almost obsessive in his effort to make sure that nothing the Jupiter Station crews had done would jump out and surprise them in the middle of a fire fight. It was at times like these that Archer did not envy Trip the job of chief engineer.
The hapless junior engineer, satisfied with his findings at the back console, weaved his way unobtrusively toward the front of the bridge again. A stop at the communications' console then he moved on to the science station.
Archer, along with just about everyone on the bridge, startled at T'Pol's sharp reproach. "Don't touch that!"
Archer's head swiveled quickly to observe the two to his left, fully expecting a small-scale disaster from T'Pol's exclamation.
T'Pol was perched on the edge of her chair, primed to move, glaring ominously at the young engineer. The man was standing a few paces back, obviously startled and flustered, as he stammered, "I... just need to check something, it will only take a moment." The young man looked in appeal toward Captain Archer.
Archer frowned, utterly perplexed, at his Vulcan science officer. There was no obvious disaster waiting in the wings to warrant the Vulcan's sharp words. T'Pol's aggressive remark was out of character. He had noticed that she had been a little on-edge, distracted, since coming back from shore leave, but he'd not given it much consideration. Vulcans were confusing at best and he'd sworn off ever completely understanding them a long time ago. He hadn't completely dismissed the idea that she may have come up against some anti-Vulcan bigotry in Florida that she didn't want to discuss nor mention, and that would justifiably rattle anyone. Still, this was strange for T'Pol.
Archer gave the startled engineer a nod. Emboldened by the captain's assent, the engineer advanced on the science station console again...
Only to jump back when T'Pol moved to intercept. She was out of her seat in one reflexive move. "Get away from my console."
Archer was on his feet in the next instant. "T'Pol."
T'Pol for a second would not look away from the innocent engineer, maintaining a firm stance between him and her work station. It was a laborious moment before she turned her eyes from the young man to look at the captain. Her dark eyes were alive with emotion... and it was anger.
"T'Pol," Archer said again, this time in more concern than displeasure. He stepped closer and asked softly, "Are you all right?"
T'Pol's eyes narrowed as she clipped, "I'm fine, Captain."
"Then why won't you let Lieutenant Roshner do his job?"
T'Pol's shoulders squared defiantly. "I have tended to my station's diagnostics, there was no error in my work." She sounded unmistakably defensive.
Archer studied T'Pol closely. She didn't look like she was going to back down to let Lieutenant Roshner finish his work, and that set off a warning bell in Archer's mind.
"T'Pol, I want you to report to sickbay."
T'Pol's eyes flared.
"That's an order. Don't make be have security escort you." Embarking once again on the mission to stop the Xindi from launching a full-scale attack on Earth, Archer could ill-afford to overlook such abnormal behavior from someone on his crew usually so in control.
T'Pol tensed a moment, eyed him wordlessly, then relented. "Very well, Captain." With one last withering glance at Roshner she left the bridge.
Despite the fact T'Pol was gone, Roshner still approached the science station with trepidation, as though he expected the Vulcan to reappear in inhuman fury the moment he touched anything.
Archer returned to his chair and took a glance around the bridge. Everyone was dutifully attuned to their own stations but he could see the startled confusion on their down-turned expressions.
Archer imagined his face looked the same.
*****
Doctor Phlox lowered his medical tricorder with heavy finality. T'Pol was sitting stone-faced on the biobed facing him, her muscles tensed.
"I imagine I don't have to tell you the diagnosis," Phlox said.
T'Pol continued staring straight ahead, expression tight. "No."
Phlox sighed and looked around the room again to insure they were alone. When he was unerringly certain that it was only he and T'Pol in sickbay the Denobulan said, "I can attempt hormone suppression treatment. To my knowledge it's never been attempted successfully on a Vulcan in your state but it might slow the condition."
T'Pol almost sneered. "To what end, Doctor? You can't stop it." Her last comment was almost an accusation.
"No, I can't. Unlike that false alarm two years ago, this, by all indications, appears to be the natural onset of pon farr."
T'Pol's hands clenched tightly around the edge of the bed. "I cannot return to duty... I've lost the ability to control my emotions."
"I don't think duty should be foremost on your mind right now, Sub-commander. Fortunately, we're only a day's journey from Vulcan. I'll recommend to the captain that the ship divert course so we can drop you off."
T'Pol huffed sourly and snarled, "There is no Vulcan male who would bond with me after my disgraceful resignation from High Command, nor would I desire such a bondmate." She slid from the biobed and began restless pacing in the small sickbay. "I will not return to Vulcan."
"T'Pol," Phlox tried to reason, "surely you are aware that you are not thinking straight right now. I don't have to tell you that this condition, untreated, is fatal to Vulcans."
"I am well aware of that, Doctor," she hissed.
"Well, then, if you don't intend to return to Vulcan to take a mate what do you intend to do? You can't mean to let this kill you. You must find way to resolve this, your very life depends on it."
T'Pol's pacing slowed, her eyes lowered, and Phlox waited impatiently for her answer.
T'Pol's eyes cast furtively around the room. When she finally spoke she seemed hesitant, uncertain. "Returning to Vulcan is... unnecessary," she said lowly, "there is already someone on Enterprise with whom I am intimate."
Phlox blinked at her, stunned at the revelation, wondering if her pon farr had created a delusional state.
T'Pol looked up at him to gauge his response and she seemed, for the moment, perfectly lucid.
Phlox was taken by surprise but collected himself quickly and admirably. "I see... would you mind telling me whom?"
T'Pol's ire returned as she demanded, "Why?"
"Because unless you and I are having an affair I don't know about then this mystery man must be human and I need to speak with this crewman about what to expect from a Vulcan in the throes of pon farr and be prepared to treat him should he be injured."
T'Pol went sullen at his words and nodded. She moved back to the biobed and finally answered, "Commander Tucker."
"Hmm... not entirely unexpected, but still an interesting surprise." Phlox considered T'Pol sympathetically a moment then asked, "Will Commander Tucker be willing to assist you?"
T'Pol nodded wordlessly without hesitation.
Phlox, at that, began to formulate a treatment plan. "Very well, then. I'm medically relieving you of duty, T'Pol, and after I've spoken with Commander Tucker I'm going to relieve him, too. When I finish speaking to him I'll send him to your quarters."
"Doctor..." T'Pol began.
"Don't worry, I'll think of something to tell the crew. You can be assured of my discretion... however, I will have to fully inform the captain."
T'Pol mulled over this unhappily a moment but reluctantly agreed to the doctor's terms.
"If that is all, I'm ordering you to go directly to your quarters. Do you need me to escort you?"
T'Pol grimaced bitterly, jaw clenched against uncontrollable emotion, and she left sickbay unaccompanied.
Phlox watched after her a moment before heading toward the comm panel.
*****
"Phlox to Commander Tucker."
Trip handed off his work to another engineer at the summons issuing from the comm panel in engineering. He depressed the button and said, "What can I do for ya, Doc?"
"You can come to sickbay immediately."
Trip frowned. "Is there somethin' wrong? I've got a lot of work down here."
"I need to speak with you, it's urgent."
Trip sighed. "All right, on my way."
*****
When Trip arrived in sickbay he wasn't sure what to expect, but the doctor standing quietly alone in the middle of a peacefully empty sickbay wasn't exactly it.
"Ya needed to speak with me, Doc?"
"Yes... please, sit down," he gestured to a chair off to one side.
Trip, concern and confusion starting to nibble at him, did as he was bade and looked over at the doctor.
"What's goin' on?"
Phlox moved over to Trip, pulled up a second chair, and sat down facing the engineer. "This is a very sensitive, private matter. It concerns Sub-commander T'Pol."
Trip's stomach clenched nauseously. "Is she all right?"
Phlox deftly avoided answering the question by asking one of his own. "When was the last time you saw the sub-commander?"
Trip thought before he answered, "Not in a couple a days. Pretty much the second we got back ta Jupiter Station we split up to tend our own duties and I haven't seen her since, not even in the mess hall for chow."
"Before that did you notice anything... unusual about her behavior?"
Trip frowned as he gave Phlox's question serious thought. "I guess. She was actin' a little peculiar but I didn't think..." Trip looked toward the doctor, his eyes pleading, "is somethin' wrong with her? Is she sick?"
"I've relieved her of duty," Phlox began, but got nothing more out before Trip was on his feet.
"Commander, please. I need to discuss something very important with you. I promise, for the moment, T'Pol is fine."
Antsy but curious, Trip sat down again and waited intently for Phlox to go on.
"T'Pol told me about the two of you, the fact that you are engaged in a sexually active relationship."
Trip did not react, not even to blink. He nodded for Phlox to go on.
"Commander, what do you know about Vulcan biology?"
Trip did sit back in a little bit of discomfort at that. "Well, I know the women aren't a whole lot different from human women..."
"No. I'm sorry, that's not what I meant. I mean what do you know about Vulcan reproduction?"
"Umm... not much, I guess."
Phlox sighed. "That's not surprising, it's one aspect of Vulcan culture that the Vulcans are very secretive about; they guard it even more zealously than intelligence on their advanced technology. The non-Vulcan who knows what I'm about to tell you is very rare, few and far between.
"Starting at physical maturity and reasserting itself once every seven years, Vulcans experience something called pon farr." When Trip gave no sign of recognition Phlox continued. "The pon farr is a mating drive, it overpowers the logical mind and consumes the Vulcan's thoughts and actions. During this time they lose all emotional control, becoming erratic, aggressive, impulsive, driven to find and take a mate... you can understand why it is so clandestine a topic among Vulcans."
Trip nodded distractedly, thoughtful. "You're saying this is what T'Pol's got, this pon farr?"
Phlox nodded. "Her symptoms are unmistakable."
"So, how do we cure her?"
Phlox cleared his throat. "We don't, you do, and putting it bluntly, you do that by having sex with her."
Trip's eyebrows rose at the remark. "That's it?"
Phlox nodded. "I have to ask first, before we go any further, if that is something you're willing to do?"
Trip, for the first time since entering sickbay, smirked at the doctor and he almost blushed. "Ya don't even have to ask me, Doc."
"First, I feel it incumbent to warn you..." Phlox sighed, "T'Pol is feeling a powerful, instinctive drive. Among Vulcans the pon farr is known to result in injury, sometimes quite serious. She won't want to hurt you, but without her self-control she may not be able to prevent it. I don't have to tell you that Vulcans are considerably stronger than humans. You must be aware of the risks to yourself.
"Unfortunately, our alternatives, if you decline for medical concerns, are few at the moment. T'Pol has refused to return to Vulcan to take a mate."
Trip looked equally unhappy about the idea of T'Pol leaving for another man. "What if she doesn't find a 'mate'?"
Phlox went somber. "The pon farr will kill her."
Trip was instantly on his feet again. "What?! You tellin' me she'll die from this?!"
"Eventually, yes. The Vulcan body cannot handle the unchecked emotions and hormonal imbalances of the pon farr."
"Damn, Doc! Why didn't you tell me before?"
"Because I knew you'd react strongly when you knew the gravity of the situation and I wanted you to make a decision in regards to your own safety."
"To hell with my own safety! T'Pol will die if I don't."
"I just want you to understand the risks. The possibility for physical injury aside, I don't know how serious you and Sub-commander T'Pol's relationship is, but this is a very serious matter, it may well change things. The consequences should be taken into consideration."
"Consider them taken, doesn't change my answer."
Phlox held up placating hands to calm the chief engineer. "Very well, Commander. I merely felt it was my duty to fully inform you, but under the circumstances I support your decision. I can think of no other viable solution. When you leave sickbay you need to go to T'Pol's quarters. I told her I would fabricate a story to tell the rest of the crew to account for your combined absence..."
"Okay. We spent shore leave together if that helps. She came ta Florida with me."
Phlox, at that point beyond being shocked by Trip and T'Pol, mused aloud, "That might assist in my efforts. Of course, Captain Archer will have to be told the truth."
Trip nodded without resistance.
"One more thing, Commander. Since you've consented to help T'Pol I will be standing by to treat any injuries you might suffer; I don't think it would be wise for you to be walking around the ship during the resolution of T'Pol's pon farr. Another commonality of the condition is rather... aggressive possessiveness over a chosen mate. If you need treatment comm me and I'll come to T'Pol's quarters."
"I will. Am I free to go?"
Phlox nodded and with that small release Trip was on his way out of sickbay, destined for T'Pol's quarters.
Back to Chapter 13
Continue to Chapter 15
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