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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 8
Archer had to hand it to Dalin... he might be something of a pompous boob, but he knew his crew and what they could do. Early on the third day of their in-tandem travel the Ares was ready to break from Enterprise and head deeper into the expanse after the Xindi. Enterprise crew were gathering their tools and supplies and trudging back to their own ship, dog-tired and sleep-deprived but glad to be finished. Even Trip, who had taken to the Ares crew (and MACOs especially) like an oil spill to Alaskan waters, had to credit them their swift work.
Archer had only a few details left to sort out.
He stood in his ready room, facing Lieutenant Reed and Major Hayes. The captain had told them both about Dalin's request to take on Enterprise's MACOs and the two men had been standing practically at attention for a good minute thinking it through.
"Thoughts, gentlemen?" Archer prompted.
Major Hayes spoke first. "Sir, serving under your command has been a privilege..."
"But...?"
"But, sir... Colonel, I mean, Captain Dalin is an exemplary soldier and an ever better commander. I've worked with him and it was a wonderful learning experience. My people could only benefit from his example, seeing the man in action. However, this is my post as issued by Starfleet and MACO Corps Command and I will not abandon that or willfully ask for a transfer if it is believed that action will in any way endanger this ship and its crew."
Archer gave a small smile of appreciation then looked at Reed. "Malcolm?"
Reed glanced at Hayes then looked at the captain. "Captain, I'll be the first to say that, despite personal differences in the beginning, Major Hayes and his team have been useful. Still, we've studied their work and practiced their techniques... honestly, sir, I don't think it's anything this crew can't do without them."
Archer tried not to grin, Reed's pride and confidence in the Enterprise crew overwhelming... and not unequal to the captain's own.
"Major, I think Lieutenant Reed speaks for many of us... I think we can afford to spare you if you'd prefer a transfer to the Ares."
Hayes looked torn, both thoughtful and anxious, then he said, "Then will all due respect, sir, I'd like to have my team moved to the Ares immediately."
Archer gave a small smirk. "Captain Dalin thought that would be your answer. I'll log the report for Starfleet and you and your men can head over as soon as you're ready."
Hayes nodded and strode from the ready room.
Archer turned to Reed. "We'll be getting underway as soon as the Ares breaks hard-dock, give all departments a heads-up so we can be ready to depart once we're separated."
"Yes, sir."
Archer frowned and called out just as Reed was almost at the door, "Lieutenant. Hoshi should be at her station on the bridge... please send her in here." Archer was not looking forward to this conversation but he'd postponed it as long as humanly possible.
*****
Trip wasn't sure what a rung out wash-cloth felt like, but he had a fair guess this was it. The last two and a half days had been grueling, frustrating, and challenging to say the least. He stood at the warp engine control panel of the Enterprise, elbows locked and weight braced on his arms as he stopped to catch a breath, what felt like the first one in days.
The crews were tending back to their proper ships in anticipation of separation. No more of the Starfleet grays in the corridors or that damn triangle insignia that was starting to get on Trip's nerves. No more of the MACOs and their damn myopic attitudes about Vulcans. That, most of all, he was ready to shed once they left the Ares.
"Trip."
Trip looked up at his name, then down to see Amanda Cole standing at the foot of the access platform ladder with her face upturned to watch him. She had a full duffel bag slung over one shoulder.
"Wanted to come say good-bye," she said when he turned to face her, before he could get out a question about her luggage.
"Good-bye?" Trip frowned.
Amanda nodded. "We just got new orders, we're heading over to the Ares to take up with their crew for the rest of the mission."
"I didn't hear about that."
"Just came through and I've got about five minutes to get my butt over there, but like I said, I wanted to say bye to you first."
Trip walked hastily across the platform, descended the ladder, then turned to face Amanda. She looked fired up, excited about the assignment, and Trip wondered where she found the energy after the last couple of days.
"Be careful," he found himself saying sincerely, softly.
Amanda smiled. "I will be." She cant her head, gave him a peculiar look, then said, "It's too bad there wasn't more time and less of everything else."
Trip frowned in confusion.
Amanda rolled her eyes. "For us. I like you, Trip. You never know, we may have been good together."
"Oh... yeah... I liked you, too."
Amanda's expression became patient. "Already in the past tense, am I?"
"I didn't mean..."
"It's all right. I know. Like I said, too much of everything else."
Trip nodded. "Guess so."
Amanda stepped in quickly, before Trip could protest, and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. As she pulled away, her lips still inches from his face, she whispered, "Take good care of her."
Trip's eyes widened as he caught Amanda's gaze again. He opened his mouth to ask her how she knew, what she knew, but the corporal only cast him another smile. Not even being passed over in favor of another could dampen her spirit now, right before the beginning of a new mission with a MACO captain. She would probably be standing here saying good-bye to him even if he and she had gotten involved.
It was better, right, this way.
Amanda glanced at her chrono and shifted. "I better double-time it if I want to stay in Dalin's good graces. Safe journey, Commander Tucker."
Trip at last managed a friendly smile. "Good luck."
*****
Archer couldn't find a place to start, so he just jumped into the middle and tried his best to say it gently.
"Hoshi... you've been working with the Ares communications' officer for almost three days. How would you rate his progress?"
Hoshi, sitting in front of Captain Archer's desk, sighed wearily. She sounded as tired as she looked.
"Well... not so good. He's a gifted linguist, sir, but three days to learn what little we know about the different Xindi dialects... he's out of his depth."
Archer nodded. "Captain Dalin said as much when I talked to him last night. Truth is that the work you do, have done on this mission, requires a natural talent that Aran Slade does not have enough of."
Hoshi nodded solemn agreement.
Archer bit the inside of his cheek. "Ensign, I hate to ask this of you, and I'd hate even more if it came to being an order... but the Ares right now is ill-equipped, linguistically, to handle the Xindi mission. They're as good as deaf when it comes to the Xindi; the Universal Translator programs you've written are brilliant, but they're not enough."
"I agree, sir."
Archer paused and regarded the somber ensign closely. "You know where I'm going with this, don't you?"
"You want me to volunteer to go with the Ares."
Archer nodded quietly. "I hate to do it, because I know you perhaps more than anyone else on the crew wants to see Earth again. I haven't forgotten that you never aspired to space travel, this isn't your dream even under the best circumstances. I know all that, but right now there's a demand and you're a very valuable and rare resource."
Hoshi stared at her hands in her lap a long time.
Archer sat down across from her. "Hoshi..."
"I'll do it, Captain."
Archer strained to hear her whispered answer. "You sure?"
Hoshi turned tired eyes up to him. "No." She lowered her gaze again. "I understand that each of us has a responsibility to protect Earth. It's my responsibility as much as yours, as much as Captain Dalin's or Starfleet's. I'm not sure and I don't want to, but I have to... so I will."
Archer nodded proudly. Under different circumstances, if he hadn't been her captain, he would have given her a reassuring hug. Rather, he leaned closer to the young woman until she looked up and met his eyes.
"You watch yourself out there," Archer said.
Hoshi nodded. "I will, Captain. I plan to get back to the world we're fighting for."
"Good, see to it that you do. I'll inform Captain Dalin that you'll be joining his team as soon as you're ready."
Hoshi stood and left to gather her belongings.
*****
At close to 1520 hours, the Enterprise and Ares, after three days of connected travel, separated. The two ships moved side by side slowly in space for a few minutes, each seeming hesitant to part from her sister, until finally Ares pulled away. She angled toward deep space then flashed away into warp. Like that, she was gone.
Enterprise lingered only a moment longer in the wake of Ares's departure before turning in the opposite direction and initiating its own warp drive. This time headed not into battle or the unknown, but toward home.
*****
The starship Enterprise cut through space at an easy, sustained warp four, destined for home. Within the sleek, speeding vessel all stations were manned by a minimum staff. It was based on a tentative suggestion of Crewman Cutler's, one that Captain Archer had implemented at once after one minute's consideration. Duty rotations were halved and shuffled, sectioned into quarters of six hours each as opposed to the customary halves consisting of twelve hours. Were Enterprise still on active duty seeking the Xindi it would never have been allowed to happen, but as they were seeping into the beginning of the crew's much-needed but necessarily abbreviated vacation Archer made exceptions. Aiding his decision was the fact that this short break might be the last the Enterprise and her crew got for a long time to come.
The four-shift cyclicity allowed each individual aboard Enterprise to, in effect, work one quarter of a shift and take off three-quarters... as it would compare to a regular work day, each person was receiving a shift and a half of off-time. Staggered and worked properly, the ship always had a minimum skeleton crew for standard operations without suffering efficiency and spared the crew after the weeks, in all truth months, of grueling work.
The decision proved a popular one and the tension usually palpable on the ship had worn away. Even the recall to Sol that had caused so much disquiet seemed to ease off under the gentler scheduling. After so short a time in place, the shift-change had boosted ship morale.
'Cutler deserves a promotion for this,' Trip Tucker thought quietly to himself as he partook of the second quarter of his three-quarter break from engineering.
Trip was in T'Pol's quarters with her. They had finagled their three off shifts to coincide. It was not difficult, nor suspicious, but as Trip considered his companion he had to ask himself if it had been worth the concerted effort.
Trip and T'Pol were lying in bed together. Their clothes were pools of color on the floor. T'Pol was on her side close to the edge of the bed, turned in the direction of the far wall and facing the functional area of her quarters. Trip was on his side behind her, treated to the view of T'Pol's long back and elegantly curved waist. Their postures matched and they would have been cuddling... were it not for the three inches of bed-space between them.
Trip knew T'Pol was awake. She'd not moved a centimeter, not made a sound, but he knew she was. He didn't need to see her face to know her eyes were open. He wasn't sure how long they had been lying like this, wide awake, quiet and still as death in their bed of indiscretions, Trip studying the back of her body and T'Pol turning her attention to what he could not begin to guess.
A number of times he wanted to reach out and touch her, nearly did less times, but always he held himself back. She held him back, by virtue of her stolid silence, her turned-away position, she dissuaded him every time the desire crossed his mind.
He could still taste her, feel her like a vibrant memory, but for a memory so recent T'Pol seemed so remote now. And he didn't know what he should do, with his Vulcan partner what he could do.
T'Pol finally moved, purposefully and in one smooth motion... but not to face him. She sat up and let the thin maroon top-sheet of her bed fall from her lean form and without a glance in his direction she stood and walked across the small quarters to her connected bathroom.
Trip swallowed a sharp urge to run... or maybe scream. He didn't know if T'Pol was being so distant with the intent to discourage him, but it hurt all the same.
T'Pol returned to the main room and for a second paused, still shamelessly nude, and her eyes lit upon him still within her sheets. Without a flicker on her face she moved to the view port in her wall and with backed turned to him once again settled herself standing and placidly watching the stars streak by outside.
Trip sat up and hung his feet over the edge of the narrow bunk. He watched her a long time, eyes locked on her ghostly reflection in the window's transparent material. Misplaced shadows gave her a frown to match the very real one that returned again and again to the human's face.
Trip, on impulse, stood and retrieved T'Pol's soft blue robe from its customary place near the foot of her bed. He stepped up behind her and draped the clothing over her shoulders.
T'Pol's hands came up to accept the robe without turning from her vigil at the window. In the process her fingers brushed his. "Thank you."
Trip nodded and found his underwear and pants amid the disarray on the floor and slipped into them before casting eyes toward her again. The Vulcan was utterly unmoved save for having slipped her arms into the sleeves of the robe.
Trip sat back down on the bed, perched on the edge, and suddenly spoke in a subdued, even voice. "I"m beginnin' to think you were right about me sensin' things from you."
T'Pol did not turn to face him but in the reflection of the window her eyes moved to his translucent counterpart cast upon the view port.
"'Cause I get the feelin' you're holdin' back with me."
T'Pol slowly turned to face him, finally looking him directly in the eye. Trip waited with an almost sick feeling in his stomach.
"You are correct," T'Pol answered at long delay.
Trip blinked, took stock, then frowned. "Why?" was all he could manage to utter. He'd thought he was being human to imagine T'Pol was holding herself in check during their increasingly regular encounters, that he was seeing tension where a Vulcan saw peace. Turns out he'd just been right. T'Pol had verified all his concerns with three small words.
T'Pol glanced quickly away then back at him. An action executed with unhurried poise but, on T'Pol, lending to her a furtive air. She looked about as uncomfortable, as resigned, as a Vulcan could be. "To protect myself from you."
Of all the answers he may have braced for, that particular one had not entered into his mind.
"What? Protect..."
T'Pol lowered her face fractionally and it was enough to silence Trip. Again, he waited.
"To protect myself from the potential... pain."
Trip could not remember T'Pol ever talking about pain... not the kind of pain she meant now. Not physical pain, the pain from bodily wounds, but mental, emotional pain. And she spoke of it first in reference to him as its source.
"T'Pol..." he was speechless, flabbergasted... wounded. "I wouldn't... I wouldn't hurt you."
T'Pol's face seemed to age decades. "I know... I know that you would not set out to do so, but the pain to which I refer... it is a Vulcan weakness. You may not be capable of preventing it."
He could hurt her without trying, without being able to stop it? "What do ya mean? Explain it to me."
T'Pol seemed to debate the request with herself a moment before breaking from her place by the window. She moved to the bed and sat down beside him... again, inches keeping any part of their bodies from coming into contact.
"Vulcans," she began, "do not engage in casual sexual relationships. Our partners must be chosen with great care, for, as an aspect of our biology, we bond very strongly with our mates. These bonds make short-term 'flings' more painful than they are worth."
"The kind of bond we have?" Trip asked softly.
T'Pol shook her head. "The bond we share is the paltry precursor to a fully-fledged Vulcan link between... mates. What we share is, at the most, a bare fraction of the power inherent of a mature bond." She looked up toward him, as though anticipating his thoughts, his questions. "The depth and strength of the bond between Vulcan mates is difficult to describe, perhaps beyond the scope of human comprehension.
"Barring a few rare exceptions, Vulcans mate for life."
Trip considered the feasible life-span of a Vulcan and was staggered to think of a couple spending that long together. The longest monogamous human pairing would seem like a summer romance in comparison.
T'Pol inhaled audibly, shortly, and Trip read it as tired, stressed.
"I have been 'holding back' to insure the link we've already created does not intensify. I have researched human mating practices," she paused, "aside from explorations with you, and I have learned your species naturally engages in short-term relationships with a number of partners, by Vulcans standards a practice viewed as quite promiscuous." For the last, there was no accusation in her voice, only factual stating. "Vulcan biology is ill-made for such a sporadic mating strategy. Because you are human I have been... proceeding in our relationship with due caution, actively preventing the bond connecting us from escalating, as I have said to protect myself, for the severing of a bond is considerably traumatizing for the Vulcan mind."
"I... I didn't know."
"I did not tell you... until you asked."
Trip was silent a long time in thought. T'Pol remained at his side, patient, still a short distance from touching any part of him.
Trip turned his head slightly to look at her. "What if ya stopped resistin', stopped fightin' it?"
T'Pol's eyes almost constituted as widening but she regained composure quickly and answered, "I don't think you could conceive of the magnitude of the resulting bond. Our eventual separation would be... distressing to say the least. I can't say with certainty how you would respond, it has never happened with a human, but I know of the..." T'Pol sought for an appropriate word, "agony I would endure."
"That bad?" Trip swallowed.
T'Pol gave a small, infinitesimal nod.
Trip felt a horrible, sinking guilt and helplessness grip him. It seemed they were doomed to a standoffish courtship the whole time they wanted to be together. He had to accept T'Pol's constant withdrawals, restraint, but now with the knowledge it could be something so much more. Could be, but never would, because he couldn't hurt T'Pol like that. He couldn't ask her to let him. They were trapped like this, inches between them when he would rather hold her close.
It occurred to him then that it might be better for her if he called it off now, ended her constant fight against her instincts, against him. He'd be doing the right thing to let her go. But he couldn't give her up. When he tried to imagine ending what little they had now he was grief-stricken at the thought. It had become him, so fundamental to the pockets of peace, of joy, that he'd carved out of his life.
Maybe he could break it off and walk away, but it would hurt like hell and he'd be miserable. T'Pol had become an integral part of him, irreplaceable. If it had not felt so natural in its own inexplicable way, the speed of his certainty on the matter would have frightened him.
T'Pol had been watching his face and knew his concerns. "Trip... neither do I wish to end this."
"But what about everything ya said, if I could somehow, without meaning to..."
T'Pol nodded sagely. "I will remain vigilant... be careful. It was a risk I knew of when I continued this liaison, when I accepted your affection and took you to my bed. I view it as a gamble I have taken in the interest of our pairing. But it must be as it is now, it has to remain thus. Honor me by taking what I can give, and understanding what I cannot."
Trip gave a slow, surrendering nod. "I will... if ya swear you'll stop this if I'm close to hurtin' ya. Hurtin' ya like that, like ya said I could. Now that I know why, what the alternative would be, I'll let ya go when it's time." It pained him to ask it of her, but it would kill him not to.
T'Pol looked as displeased as he felt by the request but she assented after a time. "I will." Then, as if needing to assure him that that time was not now, she bent toward him and placed a sweet, hot kiss on his lips.
Their agreement a second ago almost served to make Trip's hunger for her desperate, as though his time with her was counted in precious, slipping seconds. He pulled away only with great effort. "I need to get back to my quarters if I'm gonna be ready for our date with the cap'n." Archer had finally harangued them into joining him in the captain's mess for a quiet meal... the way they used to do but had not done in what seemed ages.
T'Pol lifted a hand, seemingly thoughtlessly, and her fingers nearly touched his face. Instead she caught herself and they fell short. She dropped her hand back to her lap. Trip had seen something fathomless in her eyes then; when she'd nearly touched his face with her fingertips it was charged with meaning beyond mere touch. He ached to know why, burned to understand that he could never truly know.
T'Pol sat back to give him room to leave. She threw as parting, firm word, however, "What we have is not a trite thing."
Trip, already on his feet and fishing for his shirt and shoes, stood and turned to face her. She was beautiful, exotic and perfect at that moment. She was watching him. For an insane instant he felt ready to fly apart at the atomic level, scatter himself through the galaxy in the eternal joy that leapt through him at that exact moment.
Trip smiled, burden somehow eased, and leaned down to kiss her as she'd done him moments ago. He still felt a thrill whenever she reciprocated... as she did then. "Damn right," he quipped and that light returned to T'Pol's eyes. Trip had come to know it as a Vulcan smile, the softest, gentlest expression he could ever expect to see on the woman's austere features.
It carried him out her door and through the halls back to his own quarters for a shower and some proper attire.
*****
Trip was the last one to arrive at the captain's mess, only just shy of being late.
"Trip," Archer greeted his friend when Trip stepped through the door into the small eating room.
"Sorry," he automatically apologized for his near tardiness. The engineer took a second to take in the room. Archer and T'Pol were both already seated with plates of food before them. He noted, however, that neither of his comrades had started without him. From the looks of it, then, he wasn't too late. A third plate, unclaimed as yet, was placed on the opposite side of the table across from T'Pol... his dinner, Trip could only conclude. For a second he wondered who had chosen his meal for him, Archer or T'Pol, but he knew the answer nearly the moment he'd privately asked it. T'Pol would not permit such a blatant gesture in front of the captain, nor was she likely to accede to the human intimacy in the act of one partner ordering food for the other. Trying to imagine T'Pol participating in the asinine human oddity almost made Trip smirk.
"It's fine, Trip, we were just about to start. Told chef to bring you chicken fried steak."
"Sounds great, Cap'n." Trip moved toward the empty seat. As he neared the table he could not stop from casting a quick glance toward T'Pol. As though on cue T'Pol's own eyes rose from her vegetarian dish to return his attention. It was innocent enough and T'Pol was perfectly nonchalant but Trip was dizzy, almost giddy, at the deeply buried emotions he saw in her eyes, knew somehow she felt though nothing of it showed on her face. He had to remind himself that Archer was only a few feet away and dampened his reaction, including what would have been a supremely goofy grin.
"Commander," T'Pol greeted neutrally.
"Sub-commander," Trip returned formally and sat down.
Archer, as soon as all in the party were present and seated, began to cut a corner off his own breaded steak. "So," he said after swallowing a bite, "what did you spend your first quarter-shift off-duty doing, Trip?"
Trip clamped his jaw down on the hunk of steak between his teeth, helplessly flicked his eyes over the table to T'Pol, then swallowed and shrugged casually. "Slept."
Archer chuckled and his head bobbed up and down. "Tell you the truth, I kind of expected you to be down in engineering."
Trip smirked. "I love my job as much as the next guy on this ship, but after the last week even I was ready to crash for some R and R."
"Can't argue that... what about you, T'Pol?"
T'Pol's response was only a fraction of a second delayed. "I slept as well." Unlike Trip, she managed to resist any inclination to glance in his direction. Vulcans were obviously even more superb actors than Trip had previously thought.
"I imagine most of the crew spent their first chunk of off-time doing the same," Archer commented. Trip hid a burgeoning smile behind a quickly raised glass.
"Since it seems to be going over so well, I think I'll keep this quarter shift rotation in effect until we reach Earth. Couldn't hurt the crew any, that's for sure."
"Won't get any arguments from me. Maybe we could set up the mess hall and start showin' some movies."
"That's not a bad idea, Trip. T'Pol?" Archer looked toward his first officer for her opinion on the suggestion. At least, that was his overt pretense for seeking her opinion, but that boyish gleam was twinkling in his eye. He was baiting T'Pol to see what she'd say, because movie night was never a serious matter to the Vulcan.
T'Pol did not miss a stride. "I've learned to refrain from commenting on Commander Tucker's continual championing of 'movie night'."
Trip and Archer shared a good-humored laugh at T'Pol's nonplussed expense.
Archer sobered. "Even though we're going to be catching our breaths en route to Earth I've ordered full staffing to the sensor and communication stations at all times, to be on the look-out for any evidence of Xindi activity or a message from the Ares. I fully intend to comply with Starfleet command's recall orders but if we run across any Xindi ships on the way or get a call from the Ares requesting assistance if they get in a scrape... I want to be ready at a moment's notice to alter course and face either event."
Trip nodded eager agreement. "Warp engines are in good order; I'll keep my team on 'em, ya won't get as much as a hiccup outta the ship. Enterprise'll be ready if we need to do an about-face and haul ass back."
"Good."
Trip frowned slightly. "Gotta tell ya, Cap'n, I almost want to turn around and head back now and not just to stop the Xindi. It feels wrong leavin' without Hoshi like we did."
Archer frowned as well. "I know, but it was necessary. Hoshi knew that. Still, I feel the same as you on the matter... Enterprise seems quieter without her. I'm almost grateful now that Major Hayes and his team went over to the Ares... at least Hoshi won't be alone."
"Ensign Sato is a capable crew member, it is belittling to her skills to suggest she requires supervision."
"I don't mean supervision, I mean company." When T'Pol looked closely at the captain a moment Archer added, "Maybe my mind is put a little more at ease to have someone there to watch out for her, but that's not because I question her ability to take care of herself. She's my responsibility, it's my job to worry."
Trip smirked and T'Pol gave a small nod but said nothing to the human condition.
Dinner continued in amiable silence a while before Archer again looked up at his companions. "I've been giving some thought to what is going to happen when we hit Jupiter Station. A simple restocking run, considering how depleted our resources aboard are, would take at least two days. I don't know how long Enterprise will be in dock undergoing upgrades and repairs, but no less than three days at least. I'm going to issue a general order to the crew that however long we're in dock, every person has to spend half of that time off-ship."
"Cap'n–" Trip immediately began to argue.
Archer held up a hand. "That," he gestured toward Trip's indignant jolt, "is the exact reason I intend to order the crew off the ship. If I don't there would be a good number of people who didn't step foot off Enterprise."
"Cap'n, come on, I've got to be here for the refits and upgrades."
"There will be time for that before we leave and we all need a break, Trip. This mission to stop the Xindi is a dangerous one... it may be the last time some of us see Earth."
Silence descended.
"We've seen the equipment installed aboard the Ares, so we won't be entirely unfamiliar with the upgrades and changes Starfleet will want to implement on Enterprise, and certainly nothing that we can't check over ourselves in half a day, a day at most, not to mention the time it will take us to get back out into the expanse. I intend to request work orders from each crew of workers at Jupiter Station so we will each know exactly what is going to be done to Enterprise, and if it looks like we need to amend this decision we will, but only if we have to.
"I wouldn't have decided on this forced time away from the ship if I thought it would cause a problem."
"That's not really the point, Cap'n. I don't doubt we could familiarize ourselves with the changes in a real short time, it's just... I hate to be gone while they're fiddlin' around up here."
Archer sighed. "Revisiting Earth could be vital for many in the crew. I think it's important we all get reminded of what we're fighting to save. It will only be a day or two of time away from the ship."
Trip took in a breath, looked like he was going to try cajoling his way into staying on board Enterprise for the entire time in space dock, but before the engineer could speak a third voice entered into the conversation.
"The captain is right. The crew would benefit from time away from the ship, given the absence of any manner of shore leave for a number of months."
Trip's mouth snapped shut, his eyes narrowed angrily, then he relented without another fighting word. Still displeased but duly silent, he slumped back in his chair. Archer's eyes moved to T'Pol. The Vulcan science officer currently sat with her eyes trained on the young man; unconcerned confidence seeming to emanate from her.
Trip gave a half-shrug. "Guess it makes sense... I just hate to leave Enterprise to someone else like that for such extensive repairs."
Archer smiled. "I understand, but they'll take good care of her at Jupiter Station, you can afford to hand her over to someone else for a little while." It was almost amusing to see the staunch protectiveness and attachment Trip had to the ship, every nut and bolt, power conduit and bulkhead. Archer had never come to a satisfactory answer to the nagging question of who was closer to a ship, its captain or its chief engineer.
"Besides," T'Pol intoned, "I intend to stay aboard to oversee the sensor calibrations so I will be able to monitor the repair teams' progress."
"Nope," Archer jumped back in immediately, "that order goes for you too, T'Pol."
"Captain, Vulcans are capable of handling stress and taxing work conditions better than humans, I assure you I do not require the same recuperative period the human crew does."
"That may be, but it couldn't hurt you, either. If I'm not about to make an exception for Trip and risk sending him into a rabid frenzy about his engines I can't make an exception for you, either. The captain can't play favorites, you know." The Vulcan didn't seem to appreciate the playful lilt to his last sentence.
T'Pol took a breath to counter, solid determination setting into every line of her angular body. Archer was already bracing for a head-to-head with the Vulcan.
"Face it, T'Pol," Trip quipped, appropriately smug for having the tables turned after his letdown, "we're all being thrown off the ship, humans and nonhumans alike."
T'Pol looked toward Trip a moment, gauged his attitude, then gave in. "Very well, Captain. Though it is unnecessary, I will vacate the Enterprise for the prescribed period of time."
"Thank you." Archer smiled. "Now the only person left to lock horns with on the matter is Malcolm. I knew that you three were going to be the biggest objectors... I don't foresee anyone else digging their heels in as much to fight a little down-time planet-side once we get home."
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