The Grass is Always Greener over the Impulse Manifold, a startrek: enterprise fanfic

TITLE: The Grass is Always Greener Over the Impulse Manifold.

AUTHOR: MikeJaffa

SYNOPSIS: T'Pol trades places with a Vulcan officer to get away from the "chaos" of *Enterprise.* Inspired by/Sequel to "Strange New World."

DISCLAIMER: Start Trek: Enterprise is owned by CBS. I am making no money off this fic.

"Sub-Commander?" Hoshi said. "Is this seat taken?"

Sub-Commander T'Pol was sitting alone at a table in the mess hall. She looked up from her salad at Hoshi's tray. "You are having you semimonthly cheese burger and fries."

"Yes." Hoshi didn't normally go for classic fast food, but once or twice a month, she indulged herself in a burger with everything. "I thought you could have the pickle. And the fries aren't meat."

"They are, at best, the least unhealthy thing on that plate. You know my boundaries, ensign: you are welcome to eat with me as long as you eat anything but that."

"Sub-Commander." She turned to a neighboring table.

"And don't sit upwind."

Hoshi turned to a third table.

"Where I can't see you eat."

"I think I'll have it to go."

No one else tried to sit with her as she finished her lunch. She had just stood to leave when the warp distortion outside the window melted into a normal starfield with a Vulcan cruiser in the middle of it.

Archer's voice came over the speakers: "Senior officers report to the bridge."

When T'Pol exited the turbolift, Trip said, "There she is, Sub-Commander, the *Forola.* Your home for the next two weeks. Think you can handle being away from us?" The *Forola's* first officer had been injured during a landing party. The wound had been infected by a parasite, and it had turned out that the best treatment for the parasite was Regulan Blood Worms. And the only supply of Regulan blood worms near the *Forola* was in Phlox's sickbay. Phlox had not wanted to do the treatment on the Vulcan ship, show the Vulcans had agreed to transfer their first officer to the *Enterprise* and T'Pol would take the first officer's place on the *Forola.* The ships would then go their separate ways, the *Enterprise* to a stellar nursery believed to have planets, and the *Forola* to do a planetary survey in a neighboring system. The treatment would take ten days, and allowing for Phlox to veryfiy the wound was healed, the ships would rendezvous again after 14 days and the officers would transfer back to their home ships.

Although T'Pol's voice remained almost a monotone, Trip had picked up on the subtle signs of sarcasm: "I'm certain it will be trying to be in a rational, orderly environment that doesn't smell bad, but I will manage. No offense to present company."

Archer said, "On behalf of the bridge crew, none taken. Besides, it would be nice to give an order without running into a wall of skepticism."

Hoshi mused, "I suppose I could do without having my logs and translations-" She broke off and listened to her earpiece. "Say again, *Forola*…" She looked at Trip. "…yes, he's here…will do. *Enterprise* out. Commander Tucker, the *Forola* requests that you be present when their officer comes aboard."

"Me?" Trip said. "You sure?"

"Yes, sir. They asked for you by name."

"All right. Ain't the weirdest thing the Vulcans have ever asked us to do. I'll play along."

It took T'Pol less than an hour to pack a small shoulder bag. As she, Archer, and Trip walked to the airlock, Archer said, "Now, Trip, you have no idea why they would ask for you."

"None," Trip said, "though maybe T'Pol said so many nice things about me, I wonder if I have a Vulcan fan club."

T'Pol said, "I find it highly unlikely."

"Fine," Trip said as they got to the airlock. "You tell me while some moldy old Vulcan officer asked for me by name."

A voice sounded from the airlock door: "Old is a relative term, Trip. But I dispute 'moldy.' I try to bathe as circumstances permit."

Trip turned to the gray-haired Vulcan officer who walked with a cane as he came aboard flanked by white-suited Vulcan medicos. Trip grinned. "Well, I'll be damned. Mr. Velik! It's good to see you again, sir." He stuck his hand out, then remembered. "Uh…."

"Quite all right, Trip." Velik vigorously shook Trip's hand.

Trip smiled. "Long way from 10th grade biology class. How you been, sir?"

"Not well, Trip, since these parasites took up residence in my leg."

"Ooh."

"Quite. For once an affliction the human immune system is proof against but not a Vulcan's. Your Dr. Phlox is supposed to have an effective treatment."

"You can count on Phlox, sir." He turned to T'Pol. "Try not to miss me too badly."

"That should not be a problem, Commander. Captain." She turned and went through the airlock.

The first thing T'Pol noticed was what the *Forola* smelled like. Or more accurately, didn't smell like. T'Pol had expected the ship to be devoid of the human scents that had permeated the *Enterprise.* But she expected something aboard a Vulcan ship. Yet there was nothing. Not even "antiseptic" described it, for there was no trace of disinfectant. As far as T'Pol's nose was concerned, the *Forola* did not exist.

The second thing she noticed was the quiet on the bridge after she took her station. It wasn't that no one said anything. Orders were given, and reports were made...but no more than that. There was no emotion in those interactions, no occasional banter, and certainly not the comings and goings of an officer who did not have a place on the bridge. T'Pol had expected that and had looked forward to it. It was orderly, logical, not chaotic like among humans. Yet she had not expected an almost unpleasant emotional reaction to it. However, if it was emotional, she supposed she would manage it through her nightly meditation.

During her first afternoon, she said to the captain, "Sir, I request permission to leave the bridge."

"For what purpose?"

"I wish to go to engineering."

"Why?"

"To meet the engineer and familiarize myself with the ship's propulsion system."

"Specifications on the engines are in the database. The chief engineer will be present at staff meetings and briefings. There is no logical reason for you to go."

"True, but on the *Enterprise* I adopted a more…involved management style."

The captain finally looked at her. "Are you saying you have adopted humans' inefficient and wasteful habits? If so, you have no place on my bridge."

"No…no, sir, of course not. I merely had to adapt to the circumstances. Humans required a more personal intervention. Forgive me. I withdraw my request."

"Very well." He turned away. If the matter was settled, then logically, no more had to be said about it.

T'Pol called up the ship's clock on her console and did a quick mental calculation. She had been aboard for three hours and had roughly 13 days and 21 hours to go, give or take a few hours.

For some reason, she had an emotional reaction to that thought.

"Is this really where you work, Trip?" Verik said as he entered engineering.

"Yes, it is, sir," Trip said as he climbed down from the reactor's control panel.

"Yet I don't see a Miss Mechanix centerfold calendar," Verik deadpanned.

"I do try to be more professional. How are things going with you?"

"Your Doctor Phlox is happy with the course of treatment, and in case you are wondering, it is testing the limits of my emotional control. But he says I don't have to be in sickbay except when I am being treated. I asked your captain if I could be of some use and pointed out my compulsory service began in engineering."

"Well, this is your lucky day, sir, because we're flushing the impulse manifolds." He gestured to a console.

"Very good," Velik said, "the perfect place where I can sabotage the ship."

"'Scuse me?"

"A joke."

"Don't quit your day job, sir."

The planet they were to survey filled the main screen of *Forola's* bridge.

T'Pol reported, "There are no sentient beings, yet there are preindustrial ruins in the equatorial continent. I recommend we send our probes there as that will be the logical place for an eventual landing site."

"We will have a week to evaluate the planet," the captain said. "Please log your recommendations in accordance with standard procedure."

"Of course, sir."

"How you holding up, sir?" Trip asked. He and Velik were in the rear seats of a shuttle pod Archer was flying through an asteroid field in a stellar nursery. The jarring flight was making Trip a little queezy.

"I thought I had my space legs," Velik said. "But that does the beg the question of why you question whether yoru probes should have all the fun. Humans have a strange definition of 'fun.'"

T'Pol took her tray and scanned the mess hall. The Vulcan crew sat tables in groups of no more than three, but when not eating they read PADDs or other documents. There wasn't the irritating buzz of small talk that she had had to suffer with in the mess hall on the *Enterprise.*

As T'Pol looked for the seat, she saw Sub-Lietenant V'Kiri sitting alone. The young Vulcan woman was Hoshi's counterpart, the head com officer and interpreter/linguist. She was engrossed in a PADD as she ate.

T'Pol came over to the table and asked, "Is this seat taken?"

V'Kiri barely glanced at her. "Clearly, the chair is still there."

"What I mean is, is anyone sitting here?"

"Obviously not."

"Why I mean is, would you mind if I joined you?"

V'Kiri looked up at her. T'Pol realized she had the attention of V'Kiri and every other Vulcan in the room.

T'Pol pulled out the chair, sat down, and ate in silence.

Velik said he wouldn't eat lunch in the Captain's private dining room unless all the officers could be present, the argument being that a life form had to be studied in its environment and the crew was Trip's environment. So to make room, Archer reserved a couple of tables in the regular mess. Hoshi, Travis, Malcolm, and Phlox joined Archer, Trip, and Velik as the Vulcan regailed them with the tails of what Trip called his misspent youth.

One story focused on how, months into the term, Velik had asked the class about their feelings towards Vulcans. "…Trip then apologized for still being unnerved, but said he was making an effort. I then made an attempt at humor-" (Trip barely stifled a laugh) "—when I observed that his discomfort with Vulcans would evaporate five minutes after he met a female Vulcan with sufficiently large mammary glands."

That got a laugh. Hoshi said, "Well, I think that hypothesis is valid."

Trip teased, "What, you been looking too, Hoshi?"

Hoshi wrinkled her nose at Trip.

"Indeed," Velik said. "Trip had been noted for pursuing the females with what may be called pronounced curves. But leave it to Trip to confound me because 23 days after that incident, he started keeping company with Emily Fitzhume, whose upper body was a case study in linear geometry."

Trip laughed. "And you said that with Principal Johnson was at the door! She said if you weren't Vulcan you would have got busted for sexual harassment." His laugh stilled. "I almost married her. Didn't work out. Oh, well."

When they got back to engineering, Trip said to Velik, "Can I ask you something, sir?"

"Of course."

"I know about Vulcan mating and arranged marriages, but…do you really have sex only once every seven years?"

"Are Vulcans all only seven years apart in age?"

"No."

"There's your answer…but I think I know what you're really asking, son, and I can't help you. No Vulcan can. You are literally going where no human male has gone before, and no one could advise you. I am sorry. But from what I understand she's a remarkable woman. I wish you well."

"Assuming she comes back."

"What do you mean, Trip?"

"It's the High Command, Mr. Velik. First they foisted T'Pol on us. Then, every time we turn around, they're trying to get her off the ship."

"And you don't like that?"

"She's one of the crew now, sir, one of us. Anyway, I was just thinking that maybe instead of trying to grab her, they might give her an opportunity walk away. Say, she spends two weeks subbing on a Vulcan ship, and oh, look, you like it here away from irrational humans? Whaddya know, we could use an extra science officer. Welcome aboard. Or am I being paranoid?"

"We are talking about he high command, Trip, so if it took you this long to come up with that, you're not being paranoid enough."

T'Pol searcher through the video database. She found a video on fungal spores and played it on her PADD while she lay in bed with the volume lowered almost to the point of being inaudible. She fell asleep before it was half over.

"What is the name of this…moo-vee, Trip?"

"'Abbott and Costello Go To Mars.'"

"Those were not the first humans to land on Mars."

"No, Mr. Velik-"

"Humor, Trip."

"Sub-commander?"

T'Pol woke up in her tent on the planet and found Hoshi crouched next to her. "Ensign? What are you doing here?"

"We finished the survey early, so we decided to join you on the planet. We just got in. The Vulcans wouldn't let us join in, but they agreed to let us pick you up early. We can leave whenever you're ready."

"I see." T'Pol scrambled out of the sleeping bag and knelt facing Hoshi. "Ensign, please excuse the following emotional outburst." She snatched Hoshi into a hug. "Clearly, my emotional control has been compromised by exposure to humans."

Hoshi returned the hug. "I'm sure you'll be fine in the long run."

"And you smell absolutely repugnant."

"Sub-Commander?"

T'Pol woke up in her tent on the planet and found V'Kiri crouched over her. She realized that everything about Hoshi had been a dream. "Sub-Lieutenant?"

"You were 97 seconds late in waking. I wanted to see if there was a problem."

"No, I am well." T'Pol sniffed the air. "What's that smell?"

"A nocturnal animal defecated outside the camp." She left the tent.

T'Pol picked up her scanner and read the date. "Four days to go," she murmured.

"So," Velik said, "we are standing on this protoplanet just to stand on it?" Clad in a space suit he was standing with Trip and Travis.

Trip said, "Fitting way to commemorate the end of your leg treatment, sir."

"And was a collision with another planet also part of it?"

"What other planet?"

"That other planet." Velik pointed to the growing orb in the sky.

"That wasn't there before," Trip said.

"Such things are common in protosystems," Velik said.

Archer's voice sounded in their earphones. "Enterprise to landing party-"

"We see it, Cap'n." Trip said. "How long do we have?"

"You mean you haven't already lifted off?"

The three men ran for it. When they blasted off in the shuttle pod, they were barely ahead of the shock wave.

Velik said, "Trip, do you usually cut it so close?"

"No, sir. Most of the time it's even closer."

When T'Pol came through the airlock back into the *Enterprise,* she found Trip, Archer, and Velik waiting for her. "Permission to come aboard."

Archer said, "Permission granted."

Trip said, "T'Pol, I think you should know, the Cap'n tried as hard he could. Went right to the High Command, but he lost, and we had to keep you."

T'Pol crossed to Trip. "That was an attempt at humor."

"Yes, it was."

T'Pol clamped her hands onto the sides of Trip's head and pulled his mouth onto hers. Trip thrashed a little and made a few noises, and T'Pol for her part seemed to be as still as a statue. Then she released him and he staggered back.

"Captain." T'Pol headed away as if nothing had happened.

"Well, Trip," Velik said, "with regard to our discussion, I suppose that could be a data point for you to consider."

"That," Trip stammered, "or she's started collecting tonsils for a hobby."

"That, too."

"Ensign? May I join you?"

Sitting alone at a table, Hoshi looked up at T'Pol. "I'm eating my burger."

"I know. I am experimenting with revising my policy."

"Sure."

T'Pol sat with her salad. "May I have your pickle?"

"Sure."

T'Pol wrinkled her nose. "I can smell the meat products on it." She ate it.

"Fry?"

"Yes." She took a French fry and ate part of it. "This is terrible."

"How was it on the *Forola?*"

"Logical and orderly, with none of the idiosyncrasies of the *Enterprise's* crew, and I use the term 'idiosiyncracy' to avoid giving offense." She ate the last of the fry. "This is stupendously horrendous."

"You were going bonkers on the *Forola,* weren't you?" Hoshi asked.

"Whatever gave you that idea? May I have another fry?"

"I'll split them with you." Hoshi put half her fries on T'Pol's tray.

T'Pol ate another one. "This is ghastly. I don't see why you humans eat them. The self-destructiveness of your people staggers the imagination. And with all due respect, I think you smell worse than before I left. You have bathed in the last 72 hours, correct?"

Hoshi smiled. "Welcome home, Sub-Commander."

"It's good to be back, Ensign."

THE END