TITLE: Enterprise Ink
AUTHOR: MikeJaffa
SYNOPSIS: S5: Trip has to endure what T’Pol does in the name of diplomacy
AUTHOR’S NOTE: In getting reacquainted with Enterprise, I just read that Jolene Blalock had had to go to a tattoo parlor to get a navel ring removed because the decon scenes called for a bare midriff and Vulcans don’t wear jewelry. So I asked myself, would there be a logical way around that? Apologies in advance for making Trip sound like Foghorn Leghorn, but the reason will become clear. (My infamous silly muse could not resist.) WARNING: Do not eat or drink while reading this fic.
DISCLAIMER: Star Trek: Enterprise is owned by CBS. I am making no money off
8
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8
8
“Know any female Vulcans, Kelby?” Trip asked as he and Commander Kelby went from station to station in engineering. “Other than T’Pol, that is.”
“No, sir,” Kelby said, “I haven’t had the pleasure, sir.”
“You might,” Trip said. “The new government on Vulcan is more amenable to joint fleet operations. And word is younger Vulcans are more interested in serving on starships. They might even join Starfleet someday.”
“That is the scuttlebutt, sir.”
“Of course, ‘younger’ is relative, Kelby. Vulcans in their 60s or 70s are young by their standards. And a fifty- or sixty-something Vulcan woman can be pretty attractive.”
“Yes, sir, they can sir.”
“And if you find yourself serving with an attractive female Vulcan, it’s possible—unlikely but possible—that you could be intimate with her.”
“Yes, sir.”
“They say they really have to have sex once every seven years and don’t really feel the need in between. But you never know. In the five years since the *Enterprise* was first launched, I’ve seen plenty of strange things. You never know what may happen. You never know what you’ll be called upon to do.”
“No, sir, you don’t, sir.”
“But if you—for whatever reason—find yourself having sex with a female Vulcan, there is an extra hazard, Kelby…”
“The psychic link, sir. Yes, sir.”
“You’ve heard of that, Kelby?”
“You may have mentioned it a few times in the past few hours, Commander Tucker.”
“It’s not at all boring, is it Kelby?”
“Not at all, sir. I find it most enlightening. And repetition helps drive the major points home.”
“I’m not getting in the way of you doing your duties, am I?”
“Only because hitting my own genitals with a hammer would be against regulations.”
“If that was a joke, Kelby, you need to work on your delivery. Now, where was I?”
“The psychic link, Commander.”
“The psychic link. Now pay attention when I’m talking to you, son, because this is important. The psychic link. Like pregnancy, you only have to do it once. In fact, it happens the first time. And you may not feel it at the time. And it doesn’t matter how the relationship goes. It could be two years since you…helped her. Or she helped you. It could be on the rocks. It doesn’t matter. The psychic link is still there. Kind of like breaking up with her but you still having her in your social media…”
“…only it’s in your head and you can’t unfriend her. Yes, Commander.”
“Have I mentioned this, Kelby?”
“A few times over the past few hours, sir.”
“So I have been expounding on this.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Not boring you, am I, Kelby?”
“It’s quite all right sir.”
“You don’t mind?”
“I think I would get in trouble if I tried to stick my head in the solid waste recycling plant, sir.”
“Really gotta work on that delivery, son. Ok. So let’s say you do the horizontal bop with a hot 60-something female Vulcan who is, for instance, your ship’s first officer. And then, I dunno, two-ish years later she’s at a place like Idieg Prime, where they commemorate treaties by giving the two ranking females ceremonial tattoos on their lower backs. And it takes forever because it’s overseen by priestesses and has a lot of rituals involved. So while your Vulcan first officer and, for the sake of argument, let’s just say, your cute little Asian female com officer spend the better part of a day getting diplomatic tramp stamps, you feel--”
“Trip?”
Trip turned to see Archer coming over to him. When he looked back, Kelby had darted to another station.
Archer said, “Trip? How are things going?”
“We’re almost done with the diagnostic, Cap’n--”
“That’s not what I’m talking about, Trip. We’ve had noise complaints. From the mess hall. On a Klingon battle cruiser. A thousand light years away.”
“I know, Cap’n, but…I can’t tell if this is ‘signal leakage’ or if she’s doing it deliberately?”
“It’s leakage. Remember, Trip, I was with her the time she lost her emotional control. If she had malicious intent, you’d know it.”
“I suppose. But what is this guy using, a plasma torch? Vulcans are generally tougher than humans, but T’Pol’s skin isn’t made of armor plating.”
“It’s only for a few more hours, Trip. You want Phlox to give you a sedative?”
“No, Cap’n. I’m good.”
“OK. Just…”
“Keep it down. I kn--” Trip winced. “Damn, she has a lot of pressure points on her lower back. But yeah, keep it down. No problem, Cap’n.”
8
8
T’Pol sat on a couch in small anteroom, wearing a robe, her eyes closed.
Hoshi came through a curtain, also in a robe. “Commander?”
T’Pol opened her eyes. “Ensign? What did they acolyte want to talk to you about?”
“It’s a protocol thing—they have to go through underlings to talk to someone of the same rank. But the word is the procedure will be finished sooner than they expected.”
“So we can leave early?”
“We could. But they’ve been so impressed with how we’ve comported ourselves, they said that if either or both of us are interested, they can add in anything we want, and it would be counted as part of the ceremonial tattoo. I was…well, Ma’am, I’ve always wanted to get a navel piercing, but Starfleet regulations forbid it.”
“But those regulations have been waived for us because we have to wear this body art for the rest of our lives.”
“That’s right, Commander.”
“By all means, Ensign. Indulge yourself.” T’Pol paused. “What exactly were you going to get?”
“They have these little emeralds. I was thinking of getting one of those.”
“How long will this take?”
“We’ll be able to leave when we planned to. We can’t contact the ship until we’re done here anyway.”
“No we can’t, Ensign.” She thought some more. “Ensign…Hoshi. It is my understanding that body art is very personal. Would you object if I got an emerald for my belly button, too?”
“No, T’Pol, no problem at all.” Hoshi paused. “You said Commander Tucker is feeling this. How’s he holding up?”
“As well as one could expect.”
“Meaning he’s being a big baby. Typical male. How do you think he’ll handle the piercing?”
“I wouldn’t worry about it, Ensign. I’m sure it will not be a major problem.”
8
8
“HOLY MOTHER OF PEARL!” Trip shouted. “T’POL! WHAT THE HELL?”
8
8
Trip and Kelby stood behind Archer and Phlox at the window of the decon chamber. In the room, stripped to their underwear, T’Pol and Hoshi had their backs to the window to show the wavy patterns of colors and symbols tattooed on their lower backs.
Archer said, “I see. And the ‘extras’?”
T’Pol and Hoshi turned around, and the men on the others could see the tiny emeralds in the women’s belly buttons.
Plox said, “While I was less than thrilled with this, Captain, especially as there is absolutely no data on the potential health effects of bodily adornment on Vulcans, there are no signs of infection, and they should both be able to return to duty in a couple of hours. But I want them both to report to me in sickbay every day for the next week, just to be safe.”
“Understood.” Archer turned back towards the women and said, “With regard to the…additional adornment, since they weren’t part of the original plan, I’ll have to report them to Starfleet. But because the Idiegians have made it clear they consider them part of the ceremonial tattoo, I don’t think there will be a problem.”
T’Pol said, “Of course, sir.” Her eyes found Trip’s. “Trip, what do you think?”
“Do you like it?” Trip asked.
“Yes.”
Trip screwed on a smile. “That’s all that matters. C’mon, Kelby. Let’s get back to work.”
As they headed down the corridor, Trip noticed Kelby had a slight smirk.
Trip said, “Something funny, Kelby?”
“I was just thinking it could have been worse, sir.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, this one old girlfriend of mine had a piercing in her--”
“Kelby, not another word.”
THE END
AUTHOR: MikeJaffa
SYNOPSIS: S5: Trip has to endure what T’Pol does in the name of diplomacy
AUTHOR’S NOTE: In getting reacquainted with Enterprise, I just read that Jolene Blalock had had to go to a tattoo parlor to get a navel ring removed because the decon scenes called for a bare midriff and Vulcans don’t wear jewelry. So I asked myself, would there be a logical way around that? Apologies in advance for making Trip sound like Foghorn Leghorn, but the reason will become clear. (My infamous silly muse could not resist.) WARNING: Do not eat or drink while reading this fic.
DISCLAIMER: Star Trek: Enterprise is owned by CBS. I am making no money off
8
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8
8
“Know any female Vulcans, Kelby?” Trip asked as he and Commander Kelby went from station to station in engineering. “Other than T’Pol, that is.”
“No, sir,” Kelby said, “I haven’t had the pleasure, sir.”
“You might,” Trip said. “The new government on Vulcan is more amenable to joint fleet operations. And word is younger Vulcans are more interested in serving on starships. They might even join Starfleet someday.”
“That is the scuttlebutt, sir.”
“Of course, ‘younger’ is relative, Kelby. Vulcans in their 60s or 70s are young by their standards. And a fifty- or sixty-something Vulcan woman can be pretty attractive.”
“Yes, sir, they can sir.”
“And if you find yourself serving with an attractive female Vulcan, it’s possible—unlikely but possible—that you could be intimate with her.”
“Yes, sir.”
“They say they really have to have sex once every seven years and don’t really feel the need in between. But you never know. In the five years since the *Enterprise* was first launched, I’ve seen plenty of strange things. You never know what may happen. You never know what you’ll be called upon to do.”
“No, sir, you don’t, sir.”
“But if you—for whatever reason—find yourself having sex with a female Vulcan, there is an extra hazard, Kelby…”
“The psychic link, sir. Yes, sir.”
“You’ve heard of that, Kelby?”
“You may have mentioned it a few times in the past few hours, Commander Tucker.”
“It’s not at all boring, is it Kelby?”
“Not at all, sir. I find it most enlightening. And repetition helps drive the major points home.”
“I’m not getting in the way of you doing your duties, am I?”
“Only because hitting my own genitals with a hammer would be against regulations.”
“If that was a joke, Kelby, you need to work on your delivery. Now, where was I?”
“The psychic link, Commander.”
“The psychic link. Now pay attention when I’m talking to you, son, because this is important. The psychic link. Like pregnancy, you only have to do it once. In fact, it happens the first time. And you may not feel it at the time. And it doesn’t matter how the relationship goes. It could be two years since you…helped her. Or she helped you. It could be on the rocks. It doesn’t matter. The psychic link is still there. Kind of like breaking up with her but you still having her in your social media…”
“…only it’s in your head and you can’t unfriend her. Yes, Commander.”
“Have I mentioned this, Kelby?”
“A few times over the past few hours, sir.”
“So I have been expounding on this.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Not boring you, am I, Kelby?”
“It’s quite all right sir.”
“You don’t mind?”
“I think I would get in trouble if I tried to stick my head in the solid waste recycling plant, sir.”
“Really gotta work on that delivery, son. Ok. So let’s say you do the horizontal bop with a hot 60-something female Vulcan who is, for instance, your ship’s first officer. And then, I dunno, two-ish years later she’s at a place like Idieg Prime, where they commemorate treaties by giving the two ranking females ceremonial tattoos on their lower backs. And it takes forever because it’s overseen by priestesses and has a lot of rituals involved. So while your Vulcan first officer and, for the sake of argument, let’s just say, your cute little Asian female com officer spend the better part of a day getting diplomatic tramp stamps, you feel--”
“Trip?”
Trip turned to see Archer coming over to him. When he looked back, Kelby had darted to another station.
Archer said, “Trip? How are things going?”
“We’re almost done with the diagnostic, Cap’n--”
“That’s not what I’m talking about, Trip. We’ve had noise complaints. From the mess hall. On a Klingon battle cruiser. A thousand light years away.”
“I know, Cap’n, but…I can’t tell if this is ‘signal leakage’ or if she’s doing it deliberately?”
“It’s leakage. Remember, Trip, I was with her the time she lost her emotional control. If she had malicious intent, you’d know it.”
“I suppose. But what is this guy using, a plasma torch? Vulcans are generally tougher than humans, but T’Pol’s skin isn’t made of armor plating.”
“It’s only for a few more hours, Trip. You want Phlox to give you a sedative?”
“No, Cap’n. I’m good.”
“OK. Just…”
“Keep it down. I kn--” Trip winced. “Damn, she has a lot of pressure points on her lower back. But yeah, keep it down. No problem, Cap’n.”
8
8
T’Pol sat on a couch in small anteroom, wearing a robe, her eyes closed.
Hoshi came through a curtain, also in a robe. “Commander?”
T’Pol opened her eyes. “Ensign? What did they acolyte want to talk to you about?”
“It’s a protocol thing—they have to go through underlings to talk to someone of the same rank. But the word is the procedure will be finished sooner than they expected.”
“So we can leave early?”
“We could. But they’ve been so impressed with how we’ve comported ourselves, they said that if either or both of us are interested, they can add in anything we want, and it would be counted as part of the ceremonial tattoo. I was…well, Ma’am, I’ve always wanted to get a navel piercing, but Starfleet regulations forbid it.”
“But those regulations have been waived for us because we have to wear this body art for the rest of our lives.”
“That’s right, Commander.”
“By all means, Ensign. Indulge yourself.” T’Pol paused. “What exactly were you going to get?”
“They have these little emeralds. I was thinking of getting one of those.”
“How long will this take?”
“We’ll be able to leave when we planned to. We can’t contact the ship until we’re done here anyway.”
“No we can’t, Ensign.” She thought some more. “Ensign…Hoshi. It is my understanding that body art is very personal. Would you object if I got an emerald for my belly button, too?”
“No, T’Pol, no problem at all.” Hoshi paused. “You said Commander Tucker is feeling this. How’s he holding up?”
“As well as one could expect.”
“Meaning he’s being a big baby. Typical male. How do you think he’ll handle the piercing?”
“I wouldn’t worry about it, Ensign. I’m sure it will not be a major problem.”
8
8
“HOLY MOTHER OF PEARL!” Trip shouted. “T’POL! WHAT THE HELL?”
8
8
Trip and Kelby stood behind Archer and Phlox at the window of the decon chamber. In the room, stripped to their underwear, T’Pol and Hoshi had their backs to the window to show the wavy patterns of colors and symbols tattooed on their lower backs.
Archer said, “I see. And the ‘extras’?”
T’Pol and Hoshi turned around, and the men on the others could see the tiny emeralds in the women’s belly buttons.
Plox said, “While I was less than thrilled with this, Captain, especially as there is absolutely no data on the potential health effects of bodily adornment on Vulcans, there are no signs of infection, and they should both be able to return to duty in a couple of hours. But I want them both to report to me in sickbay every day for the next week, just to be safe.”
“Understood.” Archer turned back towards the women and said, “With regard to the…additional adornment, since they weren’t part of the original plan, I’ll have to report them to Starfleet. But because the Idiegians have made it clear they consider them part of the ceremonial tattoo, I don’t think there will be a problem.”
T’Pol said, “Of course, sir.” Her eyes found Trip’s. “Trip, what do you think?”
“Do you like it?” Trip asked.
“Yes.”
Trip screwed on a smile. “That’s all that matters. C’mon, Kelby. Let’s get back to work.”
As they headed down the corridor, Trip noticed Kelby had a slight smirk.
Trip said, “Something funny, Kelby?”
“I was just thinking it could have been worse, sir.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, this one old girlfriend of mine had a piercing in her--”
“Kelby, not another word.”
THE END
