Abandoned Vulcan ship. T'Nana paws among the wreckage. She finds something small and black. Next scene is of her on a train, crossing a river. She walks down a city street, checking out addresses, and finally enters a building. A man jumps up from his desk to greet her. "So, you're the lady with the invention that's going to change the world," he says, friendly-like. T'Nana pulls a scrap of black fabric from her purse. She rips it apart and pushes it back together. My closed-captioning reads "Velcro ripping." T'Nana hands over the V'lcro over to the man, who plays with it a few times and gets a big grin on his face. T'Nana leaves the building and sticks a wad of cash in her purse. I can't even handle it.
Bar. Bar Mom walks out and greets T'Nana, who is wiping down the tables. The tuition jar, now brimming with V'lcro money, catches her eye. She gasps and screeches, "Jack!? JACK!" T'Nana just watches.
Chez Trois Vulcans. "Didn't you terminate your employment?" T'Pol asks T'Moe as he fiddles with his toolbox. "Yes, but I promised Mrs. Garrett I'd repair this suction device," T'Moe answers. Mestral, who has been meticulously sweeping, now says, "It is unfortunate that you will be leaving these people without experiencing one thing they have to offer." Since T'Moe is still going to Mrs. Garrett's to "repair" things, I don't think he's leaving without experiencing humans. Still, T'Moe needs to save face, and comments, "Such as? Alcohol and frozen fish sticks? The constant threat of nuclear annihilation?" Sure, it's all good. Mestral sounds like a broken record when he says there is much more to the human race than Van de Kamp's. "You just refuse to see it," Mestral says. T'Moe says he's seen enough. "I haven't. I plan to stay here," Mestral says all casual-like. T'Nana and T'Moe stare at him. "If this is your attempt at humor --" T'Moe starts. Mestral waxes annoying about how humans are on the verge of so much important stuff and he has the opportunity to study an "emerging species." T'Moe tells him that's what he's been doing, and from a closer vantage than is strictly comfortable. "Your duty is to return to Vulcan and report your findings," T'Moe says. "There's still more to learn from these people," Mestral insists. "All of them or just one?" T'Nana says, not looking at him. Get her with the snarky repartee! Mestral says his decision to stay has nothing to do with Bar Mom. I could say I believe that. But I'd be lying. "She has helped me appreciate their culture but I don't intend to remain in Carbon Creek," Mestral says. T'Nana, still not looking at him, asks where he'd go. "To one of their larger cities at first, after that, I'm not certain. There's so much to see!" Mestral bleats. Oh, just SHUT UP ALREADY! T'Moe tells him the High Command will never allow him to stay. "Tell him it's not possible," T'Moe orders T'Nana. By rights, she's his commanding officer again, so I think he should watch his tone. T'Nana is silent. "T'Mir?" T'Moe prompts. She sighs and says, "Perhaps I can arrange for you to be on the next survey ship," knowing full well that he won't accept that alternative. "In another twenty years? Running more statistical scans from high orbit? That's not enough," Mestral states. T'Nana finally looks up at him.