Star Trek(10)
Thanien turned to her. “Nor do we want to risk inviting them into the Federation without knowing what it is they wish to hide from us, and why.”
The communications officer nodded. “Granted. It’s worth trying to find out. But we should find a way to broach the subject delicately, give them the chance to tell us themselves. If they seem to be hiding something, then we can look into diplomatic avenues to convince them to be more open. We shouldn’t just go sneaking around.”
Thanien closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. “You are being naïve, Hoshi. All governments spy on other governments, even potential allies. It is a natural part of the vetting process.”
“We should at least show them the common courtesy of asking first.”
“That would tip them off to our interest.”
“Of course we’re interested! That won’t come as a surprise to them.”
“Nonetheless—”
“Commander.” T’Pol spoke softly, but it was enough to bring Thanien up short. “Hoshi is correct. At this point, the nature of the Kalar is a matter of scientific curiosity, nothing more. Without good reason, there is no logic in risking the disruption of our diplomatic relationship with Rigel in order to sate our curiosity. I am sure that Admiral Archer will agree.”
She delivered that last comment pointedly, aware of the esteem in which Thanien held the admiral. Yet that did not mollify him. If anything, it made him feel manipulated. He held his peace as the briefing continued, but once it ended, he requested to speak with the captain in her ready room.
“How may I help you, Commander?” she asked as the bare metal door closed, securing them within the compact, Spartan volume of the captain’s office.
He replied with care. “Captain . . . I am here to help you. As your first officer, my responsibility is to be your chief advisor.”
“I am aware of your job description, having held the position myself.”
He knew she did not mean to be snide, but it did not seem like her to retreat behind Vulcan literalism. Perhaps she was simply puzzled, in which case it would be best if he got to the point. “But it seems to me that you more often default to Commander Sato’s advice. I am aware you have served together for many years . . . that you consider her a friend and confidante. On a personal level, you are wholly entitled to that relationship, of course. Yet it sometimes feels to me as though you allow that friendship to get in the way of the proper chain of command.”
T’Pol studied him icily for some moments. “I see. Then let me assure you that is not the case.”
“I would be assured by your actions, not your words.”
“Commander—Thanien—while I understand your concern, the fact of the matter is that it is unwarranted. While I would need to review ship’s logs to compute a precise figure, I would estimate that in those instances when your advice and Commander Sato’s have come into conflict, I have favored hers no more than . . .” She paused, eyes drifting upward for a moment. “. . . fifty-seven percent of the time.”
“More than half.”
“You are not in competition with Hoshi, Thanien. I consider advice from all my senior staff and other relevant advisors in making my decisions. Just because I do not make a choice aligning with yours, that does not mean your input has not been valuable to my decision-making process.” Her mouth quirked slightly, a brow along with it. “In my time as Jonathan Archer’s first officer, he frequently arrived at decisions that went against my recommendations. Sometimes, he was even proven right.” Thanien knew T’Pol well enough by now to recognize the deadpan humor in her delivery. “Yet I came to understand that I was of value to him as a sounding board and a source of alternatives, even when we did not agree. Indeed, those experiences led me to the opinion that a first officer who is routinely in agreement with their captain is somewhat . . . redundant.”
She rose from her desk and stepped closer to Thanien. “If your suggestions do not routinely win out, it is because your training is that of a military officer, while this is a vessel of exploration. Yet it is precisely because of that difference in perspective that I shared Admiral Archer’s belief that you would make a fine first officer for Endeavour. I find our command dynamic similar to that which I shared with Malcolm Reed while he was my first officer—though of course you bring your own unique perspective.”
Thanien considered her words. “Very well. I understand, and I appreciate the explanation.”
T’Pol studied him. “Yet you still seem uncertain.”
“I accept that you appreciate my place in the chain of command. I still wonder whether Commander Sato does. You and she have served together longer than anyone on this crew save Phlox. It sometimes feels to me that she assumes a special standing in the crew as a result.”