ACT TWO
FADE IN:
EXT. SPACE - BEFORE THE WORMHOLE
We open with an establishing shot of Enterprise before the massive azure anomaly. Like flashes of lightning, multicolored ribbons race through the bluish "cloud" that surrounds the curious stellar event, and it's an indication of just how big the wormhole is that we can even see it at all.
T'POL (VO)
Status report continued.
INT. ENTERPRISE - ASTROMETRICS LAB
Compared to many other locations we've seen aboard Enterprise, this lab is positively spacious. Numerous monitors decorate the walls and a massive glassed-up table dominates the center of the lab itself. A 3-D representation of the wormhole is within the encased table, indicating that this is a holographic display of a more primitive design than any we've seen on Star Trek before.
Sub-Commander T'Pol and LIEUTENANT GARLA are present, with the lieutenant quietly speaking with two equally young CREWMEN at the far end of the lab. As we observe, T'Pol is inputting commands into the console on the holo-display and manipulating the image (zooming, pulling back, etc.) Data readouts crawl across the image as well as she selects different locations to focus on.
T'POL (VO)
As I have previously reported, the tension between myself and Captain Archer continues to have unexpected repercussions in regards to the crew and my interactions with them.
The conversation between Garla and the two enlisted personnel continue and, T'Pol pauses briefly from her work to discreetly eavesdrop.
CREWMAN 1
(soft)
-and spilled it all over the Chief!
CREWMAN 2
(disbelieving, soft)
Get out. She actually did that?
CREWMAN 1
(soft)
I saw it myself!
GARLA
(soft)
Wasn't she flirting with Chief Gomez the day before yesterday?
T'Pol's expression tightens noticeably as we realize that the three are not discussing work.
T'POL (VO)
The captain's vocal dislike of my species has led to many of the junior officers and crew to interact with me on a less than professional basis.
The three young women laugh at something and T'Pol frowns briefly.
T'POL
Lieutenant Garla, I require your assistance.
Without turning, the lieutenant responds.
GARLA
Just a second.
We focus on T'Pol's features as her eyes narrow in annoyance and possibly a hint of anger. When she speaks, her voice is cold and cutting.
T'POL
Lieutenant. Now.
Garla jumps slightly at the Vulcan's tone and exchanges a quick glance with the two enlisted crew before walking toward the sub-commander. Garla has an almost irked look on her face as she approaches.
T'POL
(cold)
You are on duty, Lieutenant, and I am not in the habit of repeating myself.
The lieutenant gives the Vulcan first officer a poorly concealed glower before straightening slightly.
GARLA
(tight)
Yes, ma'am. It won't happen again.
(beat, with a hint of condescension)
Ma'am.
With a hint of a frown, T'Pol looks the lieutenant squarely in the eyes. It's an almost amusing sight as Garla is half a head taller than the diminutive Vulcan, but the sense of presence in the sub-commander is nearly visible.
T'POL
(soft)
If you wish to continue serving aboard Enterprise in this department under my command, Lieutenant, I recommend that you re-examine your conduct.
(beat, off Garla's surprise)
You are a competent officer, with an excellent grasp of astro-physics. During duty hours, I expect you to do your job.
(with a quick glance in the direction of the two crewmen)
Socialize at other, more appropriate times.
T'Pol continues to hold the lieutenant's gaze for a BEAT before turning her attention back to the data console before the holo-display. Garla's expression is flickers between anger and confusion: she doesn't appear quite sure whether she was just complimented or insulted. After another BEAT, she appears to make a decision.
GARLA
Yes, ma'am.
(beat)
What was it you needed, ma'am?
There is no hint of the condescension in her voice this time although it's obvious from her tight expression that she's still a little annoyed. T'Pol doesn't look up from the holo-tank controls.
T'POL
Inform Engineering that sensor array Alpha Seven needs adjustment. I suspect that the receiver needs replacement.
Garla nods in reply and departs the lab. T'Pol continues to work on the data console as the two enlisted personnel exchange discreet looks before busying themselves with whatever they were supposed to be working on.
T'POL (VO)
In most instances, a reminder of my position is all that is required to deal with the lapse of appropriate conduct.
Off of T'Pol's focused expression, we
CUT TO:
INT. ENTERPRISE - MESS HALL
Expression still focused, T'Pol enters the dining facility, intent upon a PADD that she is working on. Around her, we can see that it's dinner time as the mess hall is filled almost to capacity. There are numerous characters we recognize: DOCTOR PHLOX seated at a table with ENSIGN
CUTLER; MAJOR REED seated at a table with 1ST LIEUTENANT PICARD and SERGEANT MAJOR HAYES; Ensigns Mayweather and Sato at a table together with the Boomer arguing some point over a clipboard between them.
T'Pol appears to be oblivious to the interactions, or of the less than welcoming looks she receives from people like 2ND LIEUTENANT COLE or ENSIGN MASARO. Instead, she quickly makes her way to the drink dispenser where she begins filling a cup with tea.
T'POL (VO)
At other times, however, it is all too clear that many of Enterprise's crew share the captain's dislike of my species.
As T'Pol fills her cup, we stay focused on her but the volume of various conversations wanes sufficiently so we can make out individual voices. From her expression, it's obvious that this is from T'Pol's perspective as she filters out noises and focuses on specific voices and sounds. It's a subtle reminder of how acute Vulcan hearing actually is.
COLE (OS)
-don't know why the captain keeps her around. Damned Vulcans are nothing but-
MAYWEATHER (OS)
-too many dangling modifiers? What the hell does that mean?
PHLOX (OS)
-considered applying those considerable talents to something akin to medical school?
REED (OS)
-agree, but the captain won't budge on this. We need to find a better way to-
MASARO (OS)
-care what the doctor said! I saw Vulcans talking to her on that planet-
The noise volume spikes slightly and T'Pol gives a slight wince that is quickly hidden. She turns away from the drink dispenser to find herself facing SENIOR CHIEF PETTY OFFICER LAFAYETTE.
LAFAYETTE
Good evening, ma'am.
(beat, off her nod of greeting)
The usual?
T'POL
That will be adequate.
The senior chef turns away from her and she pauses for a BEAT, glancing over the filled mess hall before making her way to an empty table that is relatively isolated. She is seated and once more totally focused on the PADD within seconds.
T'POL (VO)
Extensive study of human psychology journals have not yet yielded an entirely logical explanation for the hostility that some of the crew appear to harbor toward me.
The door to the mess hall opens and Commander Tucker enters with LIEUTENANT KELBY. Whatever conversation that the two were involved in ends as they go their separate ways. Tucker intercepts Lafayette and begins speaking with him; we can't hear what is being said but the chef is gesturing in T'Pol's direction.
T'POL (VO)
My previous theory for this unexplained hostility was that it was due to members of the crew attempting to ingratiate themselves with Captain Archer.
So focused on the information on the PADD, T'Pol doesn't notice Commander Tucker drawing closer. He is carrying a tray of food.
T'POL (VO)
That theory, however, has been recently discredited.
Trip places the tray on her table.
TUCKER
(smirking)
Order up.
It's said in clear mimicry of Lafayette and T'Pol gives the commander a momentary look of confusion, obviously not understanding why the chief engineer is serving her meal. Without asking for permission, Trip sits down across from her.
TUCKER
There's nothing wrong with Alpha Seven.
(off her raised eyebrow)
We pulled the receiver and ran it through a full diagnostic. What was the problem anyway?
T'Pol sets her PADD aside and lifts the bowl of soup from the tray.
T'POL
I was unable to scan in the gamma ray wavelength. As it is responsible for scanning in this wavelength, Array Alpha Seven was the likely source of the problem.
TUCKER
(frowning)
I'll get Gomez to double check the software calibration. If that doesn't turn up anything, we'll check the wiring. It might just be a short.
(beat)
Aside from that, how's it coming?
(off her look)
With the scans. Any idea what this thing is?
T'POL
Your initial theory appears the most sound.
Trip grins at that.
TUCKER
(beaming)
An honest to God wormhole! I thought they were just theoretical!
T'POL
(dryly)
Evidently not.
TUCKER
Where does it go?
The Vulcan gives him a flat look.
T'POL
I have not finished my analysis, Commander, nor have I confirmed that it is a...
(beat, hyperannunciating the word)
Wormhole.
TUCKER
But you just said that it was!
T'POL
I said that your initial theory is the most likely explanation, not the only one.
The engineer gives her a sour look.
TUCKER
(muttering)
Same thing.
(beat)
Anything I can do to help? I minored in Theoretical Astrophysics, after all.
(with an amused smile)
Even wrote a thesis on Morris-Thorne wormholes.
T'Pol quirks an eyebrow at that.
T'POL
Indeed?
TUCKER
Yeah. It was all hypothetical. I was looking at alternates for conventional warp propulsion and had a theory about wormholes.
(beat, amused)
Obviously, it didn't pan out.
T'POL
(dryly)
Obviously.
(beat, curious)
I was unaware that you had a background in theoretical science, Commander. I assumed that you would have focused on the more practical side of engineering.
Trip grins broadly at that.
TUCKER
Well, you know what they say about assuming.
The Vulcan is silent for a BEAT as she considers his comment; from her expression, she's slightly confused. She gives him a raised eyebrow: evidently, she doesn't know.
TUCKER
Never mind. It's just a figure of speech.
(beat)
So, is there anything I can do to help?
T'Pol is silent for a BEAT as she considers. Over Tucker's shoulder, we can see that several crewmembers are now frequently glancing in the direction of the first officer and the chief engineer, and these looks appear to briefly fluster the Vulcan.
T'POL
Repairing the sensor array would be the most helpful assistance at present.
Trip gives her a nod before standing.
TUCKER
All right. I'll get a team on it.
(with a smile)
Goodnight, T'Pol.
He is already striding away from her table and, apparently cognizant of the attention she is receiving, the Vulcan returns her attention to her meal and the PADD.
T'POL (VO)
An alternate theory that I am currently pursuing involves the human tendency to fear the unknown.
Off of T'Pol's glance to the now retreating Tucker, we
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. ENTERPRISE - T'POL'S QUARTERS
The door slides open and the Vulcan sub-commander enters. She is carrying a number of data PADDs and several clipboards. As she crosses the small room to the bare desk, we can see a flashing light from her computer. Placing the stack of paperwork and data devices on her desk, she presses a button on the computer. Instantly, a dialog box appears on the screen.
INCOMING MESSAGE
T'Pol frowns slightly as the screen transforms to a blank screen. Vulcan characters begin appearing and her expression transforms into one that could only be called distressed as she begins to read.
T'POL (VO)
Fear of the unknown, unfortunately, is hardly the sole province of humanity.
And, off her expression, we
FADE OUT.
END OF ACT TWO
Continue to Act Three
