Welcome,welcome, welcome! Happy December, everyone! May the last month of your year be filled with, love, laughter, sharing – and all the joy your soul can hold, and then some, so that it flows out from you and embraces others.
To help that wish along, I’ve created an Advent calendar. It’s as non-denominational as it can be – because it espouses the concept of IDIC – Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combination.
Every day, all month, I’ll post a short story. These are freewritings I wrote as part of my preparations for another project. They’re rough and imperfect; I’m only going to correct for spelling and grammar. But each one is a little gem in the making…
And that’s where you come in. If you read and comment, I’ll add a paragraph to this story. If you suggest a prompt, I’ll find a way to use it.
OK, time for a quick briefing:
Spoiler zone ahead! If you were to want to start watching a show that was canceled a decade ago, and you don’t want to know what happens – well, this could be a good post to skip. I’m looking to delight, not to spoil.
The base art for the calendar elements of this post was created by Annalise S. Burton, and is used with permission and compensation.
I don’t own Trip, T’Pol, or the franchise that conceived them. These stories are offered as a gift, without expectation for any compensation. Of course, comments and honest feedback are always welcome!
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And now, to the calendar…..we lift the tab, and….
“Commander Tucker, I -”
“It’s Trip, T’Pol. I’m called Trip. I know you know that.”
The blonde human leaned down from the conduit housing he was adapting. There was a smear of grease on his cheek, and more in his hair, which was disarranged.
It was illogical that these things would make him more attractive. T’Pol preferred quiet, and order. He was, in nearly every moment, chaotic and loud. To be fair, every human she’d met spoke too loudly for her sensitive hearing; the resultant headache was becoming habitual.
“That is irrelevant, Commander. Moreover, your interruption has cost time, and done nothing to assist us in accomplishing this assignment.” She didn’t add that the assignment was impossible to complete. Humans didn’t seem to accept the reality that some goals weren’t achievable within current parameters; therefore, there was no logic in repeating herself,
“Now, see, there’s where you’re wrong, Sub-commander T’Pol.” The man grinned at her, and T’Pol allowed herself the moment of enjoyment at the fascinating ways the human gesture shifted the planes of his face. “Listen: Com-man-der Tuck-er. Five syllables, right there. Even if you delete my last name, it’s still three, and Trip’s only one. Same for you: Sub-com-man-der T’- Pol…that’s a mouthful – six syllables. T’Pol’s only two. Now, I’d say, from an engineering standpoint, we could shave maybe two or three minutes off our time, just by doing away with the titles.”.
He looked at her, and she could feel his sense of victory. “Go ahead, T’Pol. Tell me it’s more logical than all these Commander Tuckers of yours.”
“Perhaps it is.” He grinned wider, and laughed; T’Pol resisted the urge to evasive action the sudden sound triggered. “However, you have now spent nearly four minutes in explanation, and I have yet to communicate the information I need to impart. It appears, Commander Tucker, that there is a significant flaw in your logic. I hope it doesn’t extend to your understanding of engineering.”
What the human said next was not quiet, logical, or brief – and did nothing at all to move them toward the completion of the Captain’s impossible assignment.
We’ve had two commenters since this originally posted, so here’s a bit more for your reading pleasure. These paragraphs aren’t even five minutes old as I type this! Enjoy, and remember: more comments; more story!
“-and why the hell are you staring at me, when we’ve got work to do?” His own eyes hadn’t shifted from hers once during his emotional reaction; T’Pol was unable to look away from the confrontational human gesture. Did he know that Vulcans only stared at one another in such a manner in intimate or potentially violent moments? As he was, would he care?
“Well? Who’s wasting time now?” Commander Tucker demanded, his hands planted on his hips.
Will Trip ever get T’Pol to ‘call him Trip’?
Will they find a way to work together?
Is this team an unmitigated disaster?
What happens next?
Well, that’s where you come in. If you read and comment, I’ll add a paragraph to the story. If you suggest a prompt, I’ll find a way to use it. If you want to know more, I’ll explain a bit of the premise behind the story, or you can watch the series pilot, “Broken Bow”.