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I understand I've missed the pilgrimage. When is the next? I'm eager to return to my duties life.

[It's total bullshit but hey, T'Pol knows how to do as she's told.]

[She had dreamed twice in her entire life, but apparently that was just another lie. She said little when she was escorted to her new quarters, asking only necessary questions. There's no doubt in her mind that this is a ruse of some kind, a trick. A hostile alien must have taken over the ship, possibly even entered their minds. Her body was on Enterprise, and her consciousness must return to it.

That made more sense than this.

When she was alone, she found the picture in her room. A party, it seemed, possibly for her. But it wasn't the smile on her face that was most disconcerting: it was the ears. They were curved, round, and her face was flushed red. It was the most unsettling - and disgusting thing she'd seen in a very long time.

She would play along, though: and then she'd find a way to free herself. Leaving the room - and the picture - T'Pol slipped her key card into her pocket and began her exploration. There was much to learn, and more to observe.]

((OOC: Tooootally open for spam anywhere around the Cave! She's wandering all over.))

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[Trip had been desperate to find things to keep him busy since the pilgrimage had left with the only person he trusted in this screwed up place. The only up side was now there was only one person with that face here now, not that it was someone he wanted to see. His arm hurt just thinking about it.

And because of said arm, he had trouble doing his job. He'd been assigned to do any random maintenance around the cave but he was limited now with his entire left arm in a cast.

Unfortunately, he'd just come from the doctors again and told not to go to work. He had to agree, since he couldn't even hold a tool in his left hand but it still sucked. So he was just wandering at this point, desperate for something to do.

He turned a corner and almost literally ran into someone.]

Oh! Sorry. Wasn't lookin'....

[She knew that voice. She knew it as she neatly sidestepped to avoid a collision, knew it as she turned, the annoyance hidden from her face but present in her anyway, slow to suppress. When she faced him head on, though, she found herself doubting her conviction, if only for a moment.

She knew his voice, but she knew it to be colder, gruffer. And she knew his face, but she knew it with an ugly radiation scar along the right half of his face. For just that moment, she wondered if it was possible that it all had been a dream.

But no. She wouldn't fall into the trap yet. Whatever recognition had shown in her face when she froze was gone a blink later, and she inclined her head.]

No harm was done. [Human phrases that weren't quite right, those were the story of her life.]

[He's put out his good hand to steady the woman he'd bumped into...and did a double take.

He too knew that voice. And he knew that face. It was the hair, and a quick check at the ears, that were throwing him. Added onto already conflicted emotions from the 'dream' and the wariness brought on by familiar faces here in the cave, his voice came out rather soft and hesitant.]

T'Pol?

[Her eyes darted to the side, half expecting one of the workers to be there, ready to reenforce these rules about names, and the City, but there was no one. She was beginning to think it was safer to speak your mind here than it had ever been on the ship, but she couldn't be sure yet.

Gaze settling back on Trip's face, she eyed his right cheek for a moment, wondering if this really was a mental trick that had her seeing him like this.]

No. Delilah Bristow, here. [She would neither confirm nor deny that name, apparently.] What is your 'name?' [There was the slightest emphasis on name, though. She knows his name (Charles Tucker III, how you could forget a mouthful like that), but she doesn't know who he is here, in the context of...whatever this really was.]

[Trip was admittingly very bad about that. He'd often got half way through saying Malcolm's name before he remembered and said Gavin. Or Vincent. It was shocking that they hadn't brought him in, but perhaps they gave him a little leeway in that the two Malcolms were identical and he was on pain medicine.

He caught the gaze to his right cheek and recalled the other Malcolm doing the same thing on occasional. Huh.

But the 'here' was enough of a confirmation and he nodded in understanding.] Right. Rudolph Wright.

[She hesitated a moment, then, awkwardly, offered her hand to shake. That was what they did, when they greeted people, when they wanted to assess someone. Most likely, that was what was expected of her.]

Pleased to meet you. [She couldn't put much emotion into the words, though, and it came out pretty flat. But she did take the opportunity to step closer and lower her voice.]

How long have you been awake?

[Trip swallowed hard and hesitated as well due to the very human gesture coming from T'Pol. But he had to remind himself that she was most likely just playing along.]

Pleasure's mine. [The lack of emotion in her voice was familiar at least.

He considered for a moment, before taking her hand.] Come on. I think I can find us a better place to talk.

[He started to lead her through the city, until they were in a darker, more secluded area. Certainly no one could be watching here?]

To answer yer question, 'bout two weeks. But we got another problem. Malcolm's here too but there's two of 'em and one's crazier then a fruitcake. That one woke up the same time as me but the other, the normal one, just got booted out on the pilgrimage 'cuse he'd been here almost a month.

[She'd already convinced herself that this was not Commander Tucker's consciousness by the time he started leading her through the streets. It was the way he held her hand, odd and unsensitive as it was, that assured her: this wasn't the engineer she'd worked with for the past four years.

What she didn't know was if he was experiencing another scenario, or if he was free aboard Enterprise. Of course, then she had to consider if this was his doing, but it was quickly dismissed: this wasn't Trip's MO. He wouldn't even understand what was happening, she was sure.

So she followed him, wary, but she slipped her hand away as they walked. The talk of two Malcolms was unsettling: T'Pol was wary of one Major Reed, she certainly wasn't interested in seeing two.]

What do you mean, the normal one? [Because in her opinion, Reed is pretty bug nuts crazy.

[On the other hand, Trip had to yet notice anything different about this T'Pol, besides her hair and ears. After her instability in the Expanse, he was used to her not being the ideal Vulcan. Or least the ideal Vulcan from his world. I didn't even occur to him that this could be the T'Pol from the Major's universe.

Though, he wouldn't admit that it hurt a little when she pulled her hand back. ]

You know, Lieutenant Reed? Enterprise's Tactical and Armory Officer? That one? The crazy one says he's a Major and a MACO if you can believe it. [Trip still wasn't sure he didn't.] He broke my fingers for giving him a hug when I mistook him for ours

[Lieutenant? T'Pol tilted her head to the side, considering. She could correct him, point out that it was the Major that was 'normal' to her...or she could play along with what she was now certain was a mind game of some sort.

It was an easy choice. Artifice wasn't natural for her, but she'd gotten very good at playing along.] Have you kept your distance since? [She wondered if these Reeds were just projections, or if his consciousness inhabited them, too.]

[There was a mind game going on but it wasn't Trip doing it. He honestly didn't have brain power for such a thing, not after the Expanse and now this place.

And to that end, he fell for her act: hook, line and sinker.]

I tried. Had 'nother run in with him and that's when he finished the job by breaking my arm. It's why I couldn't go with Malcolm on the pilgrimage and the crazy one is under house arrest. If I were you, I'd stay away from him.

I think that would be for the best. [That, at least, was true: she avoided Reed on the best of days, on the ship. Studying Trip's unmarked face for some hint, T'Pol hesitated before continuing. Perhaps compassion was the key here?]

Why did he attack you again?

I have no frickin' idea. [And Trip honestly didn't, his frustration showing.] He just did and goddamnit he was smilin' too.

[What he'd hated more was how he shied away from his Malcolm that next couple times he saw him, which he knew hurt his friend's feelings but he couldn't help himself.]

[She was hardly surprised to hear that; the entire ship knew about the enmity Tucker and Reed held for each other. But this Tucker - this projection of Tucker - clearly did not. And it clearly bothered him. Glancing at his wounded arm, she wondered if she should reach out and offer some comfort - but she couldn't imagine any version of her finding that acceptable.]

Is Captain Archer here as well? [She realized, belatedly, that perhaps he was not a captain in Trip's memories; it was so recent for her, after all.]

[She would have been right and it would have made him suspicious. Of what though, that he wouldn't be certain.

His face fell as she asked after the captain.]

No, the Cap'n ain't here. It's just Malcolm, his evil twin, me and now you. [Then he had a thought.] I came just after the mission in the Expanse [His voice was noticeably tight and he didn't look at her.] Malcolm is from a couple years after that. What's the last thing you remember from home?

[It was logical for him to ask such a question; she couldn't say she expected him to, though. As clear as it was that their worlds paralleled each other, she didn't know the details, and that could cause a problem. So she hesitated a moment, then tilted her head slightly to the side.]

Some time after we returned from the Expanse. [She wondered if they had destroyed the Xindi, too.]

[Of course she was from after the Expanse. He knew from Malcolm that they did finally get home alright but there was so much he wanted to ask her...but none of it was anything he was sure he wanted to know the answer too. A simple one couldn't hurt, right?]

So, you're from after me. Did we...what did we do about, ya know, you an' me?

[It probably wasn't the time or place for the question but he had to know if they were going to be here together.]

[Her eyes widened fractionally for just a moment. What did they do? That was a fine question, but a better one, she thought, was what 'you and me' was there? T'Pol shifted, and crossed her arms. If this was a trap, who would benefit from it? Tucker had told no one about her pon farr, if she could trust his word. Who needed information like this?

A number of people came to mind, people who would try to hold this over her head, probably in an attempt to shame her. But shame was an emotion.] I don't see the logic in having this conversation. It would...spoil your future.

[He didn't know what answer he'd been hoping for but a non answer was still a disappointment that he tried to hide, though he wasn't sure how successful he was.

Was she not saying anything because nothing else happened? He couldn't help but wonder...]

Alright. I guess we better get you settled then. Where they have ya workin'?

[She wouldn't be where she was in the Empire if she hadn't learned how to read emotions. Disappointment wasn't one she came across as often as, say, anger, but she still saw it on his face.

Curious. A part of her wanted to ruin the cover she was slowly building and ask what had happened between him and the other T'Pol. Had she experienced that accidental pon farr as well, simply later in the timeline? Perhaps they had entered into some kind of physical arrangement, while they'd judged their lives to be in danger.

But no; that would be unwise.]

The Guard Force, until I return to the surface.

[It was better that T'Pol didn't. With everything else going on, Trip really didn't want to go into the situation with his T'Pol. It would just...hurt too much, especially after finding out that this T'Pol wasn't his.]

Shame ya missed our Mal. I think that's what they had him doin' too. I'm a glorified repair man, or least I was until this happened. [He raised his arm that was in a cast for emphasis.]

[She eyed the cast, mulled over 'our Mal,' and the possibility that anyone could be friendly with Reed and not suffer for it. But then, she could say the same of Tucker.]

A shame, [she agreed, though it was toneless. Even if his Reed wasn't as crazy, she didn't think she cared to study the differences.] Do you have an estimate on when your arm will be healed?

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