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"Reflecting to You"
By MissAnnThropic
Rating: PG-13
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: A different ending to In a Mirror Darkly, Part I, results in the Mirror Universe T'Pol ending up on our universe's Enterprise when the relationship between Trip and T'Pol is at a breaking point. (later becomes a cross-over with ST:TOS, Spoilers: The Tholian Web)
Chapter 12
Jonathan Archer was reclining on his bed in casual, off-duty attire at the twilight of the alpha shift, arm cocked to lob a tennis ball at Porthos who stood on the other end of the captain's personal quarters with tail wagging and eyes intent on the ball in Archer's hand. Archer tossed the ball, which Porthos clamored after, retrieved, and jumped on the bed to deposit in Archer's lap. Archer picked the ball up again and Porthos dashed back to his original position of readiness.
If the beagle had any sense of Archer's preoccupied state of mind, he paid no heed of it in favor of the yellow ball in his master's hand. Or, perhaps, he deemed his owner could use the therapeutic value of a happy pet and rose to the challenge.
Archer's free hand held a report from Trip about the analysis of the debris in the launch bay. A thorough investigation of the metal object had yielded nothing of use in their research into the origin of their newest guest. They could identify it as Tholian, adjusting for variances that could be attributable to travel through unconventional space, as best as their information from their own databanks and Vulcan database could provide, within ninety percent certainty, but that was nothing they had not already been told. Hoshi had informed him earlier that she'd spent the entire day picking through the slag and found nothing that was indicative of written language… at least, nothing intact enough to be translated.
They were, in effect, at the end of their ability to use the junk that had ferried their mirror T'Pol to them, and Archer was faced with the decision of spacing the garbage. They couldn't store it in their launch bay forever. He doubted 'Mu'Pol' (as the crew had taken to calling her) would change her mind about returning to where she came from. From the way she described it, he didn't blame her; he wouldn't want to go back to a place like that, either.
Which led him to contemplating the permanent existence of two T'Pols in this universe. It wasn't the kind of light topic that helped one to fall asleep.
Luckily, he had no plans to call it a night quite yet.
The door chime to his room sounded and Archer tossed Porthos the ball as he rose and moved to the door. He commanded the door open and was faced with Commander T'Pol. Right on schedule.
"You wished to see me, Captain," T'Pol said.
"Yes… come in."
He turned back to Porthos, who was gnawing on the tennis ball on his bed, while T'Pol followed him into his quarters. He turned back to his first officer in time to see her cast a disapproving look at the beagle before she tacitly ignored him.
"Sorry to keep you up late," Archer said.
"I was not preparing for sleep. What did you want to discuss?"
"Phlox informed me a few minutes ago that our guest in sickbay is eager to be released from the doctor's care."
T'Pol did not react to that news; she waited patiently to know why that necessitated a late-night visit to the captain's quarters.
"Which imposes a new deadline on that special project I assigned you," Archer provided further.
T'Pol's chin tilted upward ever so slightly. "I believe I may have an answer to your request."
"Oh?" Archer asked, urging her to go on.
"I propose a mind-meld."
Archer took to that notion like biting into a sour apple. He pursed his lips, stalled his response by putting down the PADD in his hand, then returned a steady look to his first officer. She was unmoved and nonplussed, making it impossible to read any opinion she might personally have to the suggestion. Archer had not had so much trouble reading his Vulcan officer since he first took her aboard so many years ago, when she was just another stuck-up Vulcan.
T'Pol continued in his resulting silence, "When our minds are one, I should be able to discern the veracity of her claims. It will be much more difficult to lie within her mind; there will be two truths, the one that exists and the one she creates, and in a mind-meld I will be aware of both, just as she is. If she attempts to lie, I will recognize falsehood."
"A mind-meld," he parroted, his voice betraying open dubiousness.
T'Pol had no trouble reading his tone. "I have performed a mind-meld before." She almost sounded insulted by his reluctance.
Archer nodded thoughtfully. "Yes… on Hoshi."
"I don't see your point."
Archer grimaced slightly. "Hoshi was a completely willing participant to the mind-meld… and she wasn't a Vulcan. She had no telepathic training or abilities. She wouldn't have known how to hurt you even if she'd wanted to. I don't have the same confidence with the other T'Pol in sickbay."
T'Pol was unblinking and motionless, appearing utterly unconcerned with the potential danger.
Archer frowned. "Are you sure you'd want to take that chance? You have…" Archer faltered cautiously when he remembered the incident with Tolaris, "you were party to an aggressive Vulcan mind-meld before."
T'Pol stiffened. "Then I am perfectly aware of the risk."
"Plus, you're not trained in the art… it's why I didn't suggest a mind-meld in the first place. This other T'Pol, for all we know, is no novice to the practice… you are."
T'Pol faintly bristled. "I have been studying the principle from the writings of the Kir'Shara, and I believe my understanding of the procedure superior to what I knew when I successfully performed a mind-meld on Ensign Sato."
Archer didn't like it, but he didn't know what else they could do. He wanted some peace of mind before this strange guest was free to wander his ship and T'Pol had only suggested one option.
"I don't like the idea of you melding with her, but if you're sure you want to take the risk, then I'm afraid I don't have a better idea," he conceded.
T'Pol didn't look like she felt either way about it. "I believe it is the most logical course of action."
Archer had days when he hated the word 'logical'. "How much time would you need to prepare?"
T'Pol did some quick calculations in her head. "Two hours should suffice."
Archer nodded. "Okay… how about tomorrow morning?"
"That will be acceptable."
"All right… I'll let Phlox know the plan."
T'Pol waited wordlessly to be dismissed.
Archer narrowed his eyes at her now that he primary business of her visit was over. "T'Pol… are you okay?"
T'Pol did not so much as blink. "I'm fine."
Archer couldn't put his finger on why he didn't believe that, only that deep in his bones he knew it was a lie.
But he couldn't force her to confide in him, to his chagrin and sorrow. "Okay… then I'll see you in the morning, say 1000 hours. Good night."
T'Pol turned and left the captain's quarters.
Porthos shuffled closer to his master and whimpered, tennis ball forgotten.
Archer reached down and scratched his dog behind the ear. "I know, boy… what I wouldn't give for a degree in Vulcan psychotherapy right now." He thought of Trip. "Hell, I'd settle for one in human psychotherapy at this point. You know… starships should really have counselors."
Porthos tilted his head to lick Archer's fingers.
Archer sat down and gathered his hound into his arms. "Come on, boy, let's call it a night. I don't know about you, but I'm so tired."
Porthos gazed up at Archer sympathetically and yawned in answer.
*****
Mu'Pol was pleased with her progress as she moved gingerly around sickbay. She had been on her feet for only short durations up until that morning, both due to the doctor's hovering persistence that she recuperate and to her own body's need to rest and focus all energy on healing.
Today she felt more energetic and physically capable than she had since awakening on this strange Enterprise. She was plagued by the reason… she knew her body had recovered so greatly in such a short amount of time because of the fleeting moment undergoing Vulcan neuropressure. The Vulcan body was finely tuned, a thing connected throughout by the astuteness of the mind, and the benefit of Commander Tucker's single, unexpected healing touch was far-reaching. It took her body to the point where this morning she could get off her biobed and move around for a longer period of time than she had yet managed.
Her sleep had been fitful, despite her improved condition and relief from pain. She could not dislodge Commander Tucker from her mind. What he had done, the knowledge he had possessed, the possibilities of how he came to know such an intimate Vulcan art… the questions besieged her and they were numerous.
Everyone on this backward vessel she could be just as content to do without (in truth, her general attitude toward all humans), but she was fascinated by this Commander Tucker. It had been a long time since a human had captivated her thoughts so completely… it was singular enough to deny her the ability to sleep all night, and so her sojourn around the medical room began in the very, very early hours of ship's morning.
Doctor Phlox had complimented her improvement when he saw her up and walking, and by now Mu'Pol was almost used to his jovial attitude. Used to it, but eager to be free of its constancy.
In fact, she wondered if Captain Archer's offer to give her the freedom of movement throughout the ship was an option at present. At the time he made it, she presumed it to be a ruse, a ploy in a mind game. Now, however, with her desire to be alone with her own thoughts for a while, she wondered if he might not have truly been sincere. Stranger things had happened.
"You're going to wear a hole in the deck plating."
Mu'Pol was so immersed in her thoughts that the doctor's unanticipated remark, and its peculiar content, took her aback. She looked at the Denobulan doctor, puzzled. "A hole?"
Phlox, standing at one of his research stations, smiled kindly at her. "Sorry… I guess I've been spending a bit too much time with humans."
In her universe, that would not be a pleasantly bandied statement.
"I see."
"Is there… something troubling you?" Phlox asked.
She could hear counselor-doctor in his voice and inwardly cringed. Mu'Pol said pointedly, "I am interested in speaking with the captain about securing my release from sickbay."
Phlox looked merrily startled at the proclamation. "Well, you seem much improved this morning."
She thought again of the role Commander Tucker had inexplicably played in that. "Indeed."
"I'll contact Captain Archer and let him know you want to speak with him. In the meantime, while I am impressed with your increased mobility this morning, I'd ask you to sit down and rest. No need to over-exert yourself and undo the good you've done so far."
Seeing logic in that, Mu'Pol complied as the doctor commed the captain.
"Archer here," came the captain's voice over the inboard communications system.
"Captain, this is Doctor Phlox. Our guest is asking to speak with you."
There was a pregnant pause. "That's a coincidence… I need to speak with her. I'm on my way."
Phlox cast a look at Mu'Pol to see if she had heard. She had. Archer wanted something from her… all of a sudden that pit of uneasiness was back in her stomach.
She had gone against gut instinct and allowed herself to think this Archer might be genuinely kind… she hoped she was not about to be proven wrong.
It was no time at all before the doors to sickbay swished open and Captain Archer strode into the room. His eyes met Mu'Pol's immediately. This was definitely not a mere social visit, business was in his gaze.
Mu'Pol straightened for whatever may come.
Archer approached her and opened with, "Good morning."
Mu'Pol lifted an eyebrow at him.
"So… seems like we both have something to discuss. Why don't you go first?"
'Very well,' she thought. "I wish to be released from sickbay."
Archer's face was impassive to that news. "I guess you're feeling better."
"My condition has improved beyond the need for constant medical observation."
Archer nodded thoughtfully.
Mu'Pol's annoyance flared at the silence with which she was met. "You stated in our last encounter that I would be allowed my freedom."
Archer looked bothered by her choice of words. He looked long and hard at her. "Mu-ah, Ma'am… you're not a prisoner. I know you're from a place where the relationship between Vulcans and humans is very different, but I promise you that that is not the case on my ship. It might take some time to get used to, but you are not a slave. In this universe, you never will be, at least never to a human."
He was right that it would take time to adjust to the idea of not being perceived by humans as an object. But she was not there yet, and that state of mind colored her response. "So I am free to go?" Dubiousness was thick in her voice and she knew it but she did not hide it. Archer was bluffing, she knew that much.
Archer frowned. "Before I can do that, I'm going to need you to consent to a… procedure."
Mu'Pol eyed Archer shrewdly. "Procedure," she parroted, for a Vulcan almost snidely.
Archer's look turned serious. "I can understand your suspicion of us, but I want you to try and see this from our point of view. An almost exact copy of my first officer shows up out of nowhere with a fantastic explanation of where she's from and why she's here, and then asks for free roam of the ship.
"I don't know what kind of experiences the Enterprise from your universe had, but here we've had our fair share and then some of strange encounters… many of them didn't end well for us. They were some painful lessons but we learned from them. We're more careful than we used to be about how quickly and blindly we trust new people.
"That's all this 'procedure' is about. Peace of mind. Once we have that, you are free to move around the ship as much or as little as you like."
Mu'Pol studied Archer closely, but she could not find any overt sign of him being duplicitous.
"What manner of procedure were you suggesting?" she asked.
"A mind-meld."
Mu'Pol balked reflexively at the notion, but only for the natural aversion to a mental invasion of her inner self… she was more open to the suggestion on its own merit. "A mind-meld with whom?"
"My first officer, Commander T'Pol."
Mu'Pol was still Vulcan, and so the first thought that came to mind at the idea of melding with an alternate version of herself was 'fascinating'. What remarkable insight into the effect of learning and environment could be gleaned from the meeting of two identical biological beings with different experiential pasts? What would her other self be like inside her mind?
Practically, she had to attend to the reason and justification for suggesting the meld. Though, to a Vulcan, it was quite obvious.
"You intend for your first officer to search for a hidden agenda within my thoughts?"
Archer nodded. "That's the general idea."
"Your first officer has already agreed to this?"
"It was her idea, actually. I don't need to know your deepest, darkest personal secrets or intimate life story. All I care about is knowing that you don't mean us any harm. When I know that, you can come and go as you like… within the restrictions we discussed before."
Her natural wariness doubted that she would be as 'free' as he purported, but his proposal was enticing. A simple mind-meld (for no one would discover a nefarious plot against this crew in her mind) to gain her freedom.
In the end, she really had no choice but to comply. Still, this Archer was different from the one in her universe for giving her the illusion of control in the matter.
"Very well."
Archer nodded. "All right, I'll contact Commander T'Pol and let her know you agree. She should already be meditating in preparation."
Mu'Pol lifted another scrutinizing eyebrow. She read Archer's comment to mean that this had obviously been planned for this day, no matter what she'd decided.
No matter, it would be done and that was the end of it. In whatever time allotted her before her double showed up, she would meditate in preparation of meeting her own mind's reflection in a warped mirror.
Back to Chapter 11
Continue to Chapter 13
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