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DECEIT: Part Nine
***
2154
Tegl: Observing the crew on shore leave is a rare opportunity. It will add immeasurably to the data.
T'Pol: Which human customs have you included in your reports?
Tegl: I don't focus on one thing - it all goes in the reports. Every detail.
T'Pol: And your reports are satisfying Starfleet?
Tegl: I haven't spoken to Archer about that. I assume they haven't had problems. I made sure the language was quite clear, and with such a simple language, that isn't hard.
T'Pol: The captain won't be joining you. He has duties on
the ship.
Tegl stared hard at her. Even for a Vulcan she wasn't doing a very good job of
getting the information she wanted.
Tegl: You know, Vulcan, I expected your history as an
intelligence operative to give you better interrogation skills.
T'Pol: I expected your job as a Researcher would entail research, not emotional
turmoil among the crew. Beyond what is unavoidable with Tabrans.
Tegl: Your government supported this exchange as well.
T'Pol: Make the most of your time.
She closed the pod door over his last words.
***
2145
Trip: The whole time I'm
talkin' warp engines, I'm thinkin' "come a little closer."
Cortland: Oh, you're in deep.
Trip: Yeah, I know. I like it.
Cortland: When you look at people the way you do, they notice, Trip.
Trip: I wanted him to notice. He's interested. ... I think.
Cortland: Well, then, congratulations. Step one of "Get Archer" is complete.
Trip: It's not a mission. But if I want to know him better, I need to talk to him.
Cortland: Are you really going to ignore your training, and your orders, just to get into his...
Trip: Shut up.
Cortland: Just checking.
(...)
Cortland: I don't know who'd care about you two - in other circumstances - but I think the first Starfleet captain to go into deep space might get a little scrutiny. Rules are rules.
Trip: If he's willing to
bend them, so am I. He's the best chance we have at getting the warp five ship
off the ground.
Cortland: No, you are. He's just
your ticket.
Trip: (furious) ... Why are we even friends?
Cortland: Because I keep you honest.
Trip: You want honesty? He knows me. He doesn't wonder what I'm talkin' about, sittin' there all glazed over when I get into plasma containment. He listens to my ideas. ... Archer knows why I want to go into deep space, not sit behind some desk working out the payroll. He isn't a ticket to something, he IS the something.
Cortland: Okay, I can buy that; unpoetic but heartfelt. As long as you're not in love with him. ... Roll your eyes back any farther and they'll stick like that, Trip.
Trip: You're insufferable.
Cortland: I'm just saying.... Look, if you know what you're in for-
Trip: In for?? I'm not makin' a mistake. This isn't gonna be a disaster. He's it. He's the one.
Cortland: Ugh, now you're insufferable. Have you considered a poetry class? If you're gonna be writing mushy love letters to "Jonny"...
Trip: Okay, you're gonna pay for that one.
***
2154
Notes for Fourth Report:
The crew is enjoying its brief shore leave. They are quite rigorously adhering to the norms of their society, and the imposed norms of the Starfleet structure - rank, fraternization, etc. This must be what Archer is afraid of upsetting. So many peaceful lives so easily upset. His paternalistic response to these people also gives him burdens he need not have. If only he understood his own crew. In a Tabran setting, he could simply lead, and pursue his life, and be quite successful at both - with a little practice. Yet he is lost in his own tangle of obligation, unable to have what he wants because he can't even conceive of having it. He sees happiness as a series of mutually exclusive events, enjoyed one at a time, or not at all.
Private File Entry:
Trip, poor man, hasn't been able to figure this out. He's lost in his own little maze, enjoying every minute of his time here in space, on this mission, convinced it's better than anything else because it's better than what he could have had if he'd stayed where he was. The two of them are beginning to understand what I am saying. Just a little more pushing....
___
I want Trip more than ever, but he tells me humans don't discuss their attractions. My own behavior is becoming less controllable, the longer I try to be one of them. I have to find a way to let it out. Maybe some running.
***
2154
T'Pol: Where is the researcher?
Rostov: He wasn't at the site when we left. We still have one group left to retrieve, but we don't know where he went.
T'Pol: Did you use the shuttle's sensors?
Rostov: Yes, Subcommander. We scanned a 50 kilometer radius. He couldn't have gone that far, even if he was running. The rock formations may be mineralized - the sensors were having trouble locking on to anything organic.
T'Pol: We'll use the ship's sensors. Head back down to the landing coordinates and wait there.
***
Archer: Anything?
T'Pol: Yes, Captain. 100 kilometers northwest of the lake.
Archer: How did he get that far?
T'Pol: He's moving at almost 80 kilometers an hour.
Archer: Can Tabrans do that?
T'Pol: Apparently.
***
On the planet, the wind picked up, giving him an added push. He threw his hands out in front of him, reaching for the next rock, bounding up and off of it. A loud throaty roar of joy echoed after him. He let the anger, the frustration, the loneliness out with every cry and every powerful lunge across the meadow toward the treeline. Time to head back, he knew. Time for clothing, covering, deceiving.
***
2154
Trip combed again, left to right. Up popped the same strands, followed quickly by their neighbors. He sighed, and tried again.
(( Work. Okay. The new shielding matrix is gonna need some
testing. Maybe Travis can find us a nice asteroid field so we can start off
easy. ))
Archer: Commander Tucker, report to the bridge. There's something you should
see.
(( Dead Xindi reptile bastards I hope. Nope. Nope. That's not gonna help. ))
Trip: I'll be right there Cap'n.
(( I gotta talk to someone. T'Pol should know what this Researcher is up to... Malcolm too. "Well, T'Pol, it's just that he's brought up some emotions - things I've felt for the Cap'n for years now. Emotions? You know?" ))
He pulled the comb back at an angle, which seemed to work. Until his hair spiked up again.
(( "Malcolm, you remember Ruby? Well, someone else came along. Yeah, you know him." <snort> "Yeah, thanks, Malcolm. Very understanding of you." ))
He pinched the bridge of his nose to relieve the growing frustration.
(( Maybe Hoshi. ))
He pulled the comb through one last time, trying to create a professional appearance that might mask the rest of the mess. For now, it held.