Missing Scenes from Season Two - Canamar

SPOILERS: "Canamar "

DISCLAIMER: Star Trek belongs to CBS/Paramount.  "Canamar" was written by Allan Kroeker.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is one of my favorite second season episodes, so I cheated and wrote this missing scene out of order and put it in the bank.  Hope you don't mind this take on it.  And as always, thank you, reviewers and beta jT.

 T'Pol followed the two clearly exhausted men down the corridor.  She would let Lieutenant Reed deal with the Enolian representative.  Archer had snubbed the man, which was uncharacteristic behavior for the captain, but she decided to follow his lead.

"Hungry?" the captain asked Commander Tucker.

"Starving."

They went to the mess hall, then into the captain's mess.  Archer hit the com button and summoned his steward from what sounded like a sound sleep. 

Tucker looked as if he might fall asleep in his seat at the table.  He was resting his head on an arm.  Judging just from the injuries T'Pol could see, he needed to be examined by the doctor.

"What's your pleasure, Trip?" Archer said.

"Scrambled eggs," the engineer said, without opening his eyes. 

"You sure you wouldn't rather just go to bed?"

With effort, Tucker straightened up.  "No sir."

"Trip didn't even get to eat that mush they were serving on the prison transport," Archer said, finally including her in the conversation.  "This definitely didn't turn out to be the pleasant getaway I had hoped it would be."

Tucker's face darkened, and he didn't make eye contact with her or the captain.  Archer frowned.

Cunningham raced into the room, his hair somewhat disarranged.  "Captain?"

"We are very hungry, Crewman.  Commander Tucker here would like scrambled eggs; I'd like an omelet with cheese - Sub-Commander, would you like something?"

"I already ate," she said.

Cunningham looked uncomfortable.  "Chef ordered me not to use the griddle after hours.  I could heat up some quiche Lorraine, and we have a rather nice strata..."

"Quiche is fine," Archer said.  "Trip?"

Tucker stared mulishly at the table.  "I want scrambled eggs."

Cunningham said, "Sir..."

Tucker's face turned white.  "I don't care what Chef told you, Cunningham.  I want scrambled eggs.  I'll make them myself if I have to."  And he got up abruptly and left.

Archer said, "I'll take care of it, Crewman," and spared her a quick glance before following the engineer out.  Cunningham looked understandably flustered.  T'Pol felt rather confused herself, and followed the men to the galley.

Commander Tucker had already fired up the griddle and was melting a slab of butter.  "Where are the eggs?" he said.

"Trip." Archer laid a hand on the engineer's shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" Trip said furiously.  "Cunningham?"  The crewman had followed them to the door of the galley and was staring at the engineer with wide eyes. 

"Sir?"

"Where are the damned eggs?"

Cunningham looked at Archer, who nodded his permission.  "Here, sir," he said, and retrieved a box stashed in one of the stasis units.

"Thank you," Tucker said tersely, grabbing three.  Apparently Chef had recently stocked up on the real thing.  Tucker cracked them efficiently and dropped their contents onto the hot griddle.

"I could take over for you, sir," Cunningham said.

"Wouldn't want you to get in trouble with Chef," Tucker said, his eyes on the spatula he was using to rather viciously 'scramble' the eggs on the griddle surface.  "I'll make my own eggs, thank you very much, and if Chef doesn't like it, Chef can kiss my ass."

"Trip," Archer said.

Tucker turned his angry glare on the captain.   "You can throw me in the brig later if you want, sir, but right now I am going to cook and eat these eggs."

T'Pol expected Archer to call security, but instead he said, "You want some toast with it?"

"Wouldn't hurt," Tucker said.

"Cunningham?" Archer said.  "How about some toast.  I'd like some, too.  And that quiche you offered to heat up?" 

"Yes sir," Cunningham said, and hurried to prepare the rest of the meal.

"Do you want some coffee, Trip?" Archer asked.

Tucker nodded.  He had his head down, and he had begun to sniff.  As she watched, perplexed, he quickly brushed his sleeve across his face.  Was he...?

"Could you get Trip some coffee?" Archer said softly to her, his face full of a warning she couldn't interpret.  Did he want her to call Phlox?  Call security?  Perhaps just not say anything?  She decided to simply take him at his word and get some coffee for the engineer. 

"Here," she said softly, returning with it and placing it near Tucker, who didn't look up.  "Would you like some, too, Captain?"

"Yes, please," Archer said, and so she went and got one for him as well.  When she returned with his coffee he sat down on one of the stools in the galley and took an appreciative sip.  "It's good to be home.  Fill us in on what we missed."

And so she made her report.  Meanwhile Tucker silently sat down at the other end of the galley's prep table and ate his eggs, accepted and ate Cunningham's toast without comment, and sipped his coffee.  "Could I have some orange juice, please?" he asked Cunningham, and was provided with a glass, which he drank down quickly.

"Sounds like you did a great job of tracking us down," Archer said, when she had finished.  "Maybe we'd better set up a more rigorous protocol for checking in during these expeditions." 

"If I may make a suggestion, Captain, it may be a mistake to assume first contacts can be safely conducted with only two officers and a shuttle pod."

"You may have a point," Archer said, though his attention was clearly less with her than with their engineer, who had stood up.  "Phlox should take a look at you, Trip."

"I just want to get some sleep, Cap'n, and he'll still have his hands full with the others."

"First thing when you wake up, then."

"Yes sir," Tucker said, and left.  Cunningham wordlessly began to clean up.

"Come with me, Sub-Commander," Archer said.  "I'd like to check in on the bridge before I get some shut-eye myself."

In the lift, she said, "I don't understand.  Commander Tucker was behaving in an irrational manner.  He needs to be examined by the doctor as soon as possible."

"Commander Tucker just hit his limit.  That's all that was.  He had a particularly brutal time of it with the Enolians.  They thought we were smugglers, you know.  They looked everywhere for contraband.  And I do mean everywhere.  It was extremely..." His face reddened.  "Invasive."  His jaw worked; clearly, he hadn't had an easy time of it himself.

T'Pol swallowed.  How primitive of the Enolians.  Didn't they have scanners?  Or did they perhaps enjoy inflicting pain and humiliation on others?  "All the more reason why the doctor should see both of you as soon as possible," she said. 

"Right now I imagine Trip just needs to feel that he has some control over something," Archer said.  "Putting off a doctor's visit for a few hours isn't going to hurt anything.  Neither will throwing a little hissy fit over some eggs.  Maybe if we were Vulcan we could just go meditate and we'd be fine, but Humans have to find their own ways of coping with bad experiences."

"How will you cope, then?" she asked, curious.

Archer smiled grimly.  "I'll let you know when I've figured it out.  But you might not want to leave me alone with any Enolians in the meantime."