Peeping Tom, Shroy Tuvok ~ part i
 
 
 
Part II ~ Tuvok

A 'child' once asked me if the shape of my ears assisted their ability to function.  I truthfully replied, "No," and did not pursue his line of questioning.  In hindsight, I am forced to admit that my hearing is greatly superior to that of a human's, and his most likely as well.  It is not, however, superior to that of a Ferengi.  That species is one whose ear is shaped in order to augment their auditory processes. Their hearing not withstanding, my ability is invaluable considering my position aboard Voyager.

Today, for instance, I was able to hear Lieutenant Paris as he entered the turbolift five decks below the bridge and stated his destination.  Therefore, I knew three minutes and forty-seven seconds before he greeted me who would be getting off Turbolift One upon its arrival.  Not that it was notably out of character for Voyager's chief helmsman to be arriving (despite the fact that Mr. Paris is not well known for promptness):  his shift was scheduled to begin in less than ten minutes.  I did note that he was early, however, and found it agreeable that a certain Talaxian had not entered the turbolift as it passed Deck Two.

"Good morning, Tuvok,"

 Mr. Paris' greeting did not follow protocol.  I was prepared to 'let it slide,' however.  Unfortunately, I appear to be spending too much time off duty with the Lieutenant in question.

"Lieutenant."  I continued my work.  Lieutenant Paris, however, was not traversing the distance from Security to the Helm.

"Tuvok, can I talk to you for a second?"

"I am currently occupied completing a comprehensive diagnostic of Voyager's weapons systems.  It would be unadvisable to delay it any further."

"Yes, well, I was just wondering whether the Captain and Commander are here yet."

"Yes, they are."

A pause.

I set down my padd and as I continue working.

"Well, they aren't on the bridge so..."

"Lieutenant, I am perfectly aware that the Captain and Commander are not on the bridge at this moment.  I am also certain that you know that I have the tendency to discipline disruptive personnel."

"Tuvok, that would take you away from your diagnostic.  Besides, I'm not disrupting anything."

"To use a common human expression, 'I beg to differ.'"  Inwardly, I cringe at my own words.  Mr. Paris only smiles:

"Tuvok, Tuvok, Tuvok:  won't you just tell me where they are?"

"The personnel in question are currently in the Ready Room."

"Now was that so hard?  Why couldn't you just tell me before?"  I pick up my padd again, making a few notes as I answer:

"I did not tell you because you did not ask."  I am almost certain that Lieutenant Paris is assuming that if Vulcans were inclined to smile, I would be smiling at this moment.  This common assumption among the crew is completely, totally, illogical.  It is ludicrous. The Lieutenant leans toward me:

"Can you hear them?"

"Yes, were I to extend my hearing, I would be able to hear them."

"Well, why don't you?"

"That would be illogical."

"Come on, Tuvok:  don't tell me you never have before."

"That is not a question you should be asking a senior officer, Lieutenant."

"I'm not leaving until you answer my question," Tom stated.  "You might as well spill it."  I look up as the turbolift doors open and nod a greeting to Ensign Ayala as he steps onto the bridge.  Paris is still staring at me.

"Very well," I finally reply.  "Since there is apparently no deterring you, I will answer your question...  if you give me your word that you will proceed to your duty station immediately afterwards."

"Deal."

"This information goes no further than this workstation, is that understood, Lieutenant?"

"Scout's honor."  Mr. Paris holds up his hand, forming some strange symbol with his fingers.  I find it odd that he would wish to engage in this activity which compromises his dignity.  Tom drops his hand and leans forward, lowering his voice a little more:  "So, have you?"

"I have, infrequently, 'indulged,' as I believe you put it, yes."

"I knew it!"  A pause.  "Well, why don't you now?"

If Vulcans were prone to sigh, this is the moment that I would insert one.

"Mr. Paris..."

"Come on, Tuvok:  just tell me a little."  I return to my work:

"They are discussing the away mission."

"What about it?"  I lift my chin, staring at the ceiling for a moment, listening.  I return to my work before I answer:

"The Captain wishes to accompany the Commander, and he does not agree with her reasons for doing so.  He believes that the mission is potentially hazardous."

"Is that all?  I could have figured that out."

"Then you will no long be requiring my services, Lieutenant."

"Thanks anyway, Tuvok."

"It was 'nothing.'"

"Hey, you're getting pretty good at that."  Apparently, I am not myself today.

The Lieutenant is still standing next to my console.

"Lieutenant, could you possibly proceed to your station?"

"Well, sure.  Why?"

"Because you have stood here an uncharacteristically extended amount of time and it is time for your duty shift to begin."

"But Tuvok:  you didn't ask."  I watch Lieutenant Paris turn to resume his trek towards the conn with a grin on his face.
 
 
 

"Jonah?  Whale???"  Quite illogical.  Quite illogical, indeed.

That was quite a long time ago.  There have been many conversations in that room since that day.  I once tried to justify my actions, reasoning that, as Voyager's Chief of Security, I should have the right to monitor such conversations as I see fit.  However, I soon realized--after the Captain discovered that the Doctor had been monitoring bridge conversations--that Captain Janeway would most definitely be displeased were she ever to find that I listen to some of her private conversations.

Regardless of the fact that logic won out (as always), I still periodically find myself listening.  Of course, each time I do yield, I chastise myself duly and resolve to never do it again.  But then I eventually find it happening again.  It may be the one thing that subconsciously slips through my emotional barriers.

She is winning... the Captain.  I am not surprised.  She usually does win, particularly with the Commander.  He usually has the well being of the crew in mind, and his arguments are actually quite persuasive, but his dilemma is of a human nature.  When one loves another, it is difficult to say no to that person.  The Captain just happens to be the more headstrong of the two.  They both have their battles.

I can not say that I blame him really.  I have found myself in similar situations with my T'hy'la (that is, my wife).  She is my aduna, I am her adun.  It is also sometimes... difficult... with my children.

I believe that one of the reasons I find myself listening more and more is because of the Captain's voice.  Many times I do not listen to what is being said, rather, I listen to her katra, to her soul.  When the Captain is in her Ready Room, she speaks of what her heart feels.  Typically non-Vulcan of her, thus, very illogical.

It may be what draws me to her the most.

She considers me a source of sound counsel, and I, in turn, see her in exactly the same fashion.  She is my window to everything that is not Vulcan.  I find her quite... fascinating.

She has won.  They are now proceeding to the bridge.  I return my full attention to my duties.  Perhaps I will listen another time, but not today.
 
 
 
Peeping Tom, Shroy Tuvok ~ part iii
more of Star in Void's Star Trek Voyager fanfic