"Hado Venceres Tradición" by A. Rhea King Rating: PG Disclaimer: Don't own the, CBS/Paramount does. Summary: Trip thought the hardest thing he'd have to do was ask T'Pol to marry him. He was dead wrong. -- This is the final story of my series Author’s Note: This was written before we learned T’Pol’s father was dead and her mother was killed. CHAPTER 1 T’Pol walked into Trip’s quarters and sat three PADDs down on his unmade bunk. Her gaze traveled to the pile of clean clothes sitting in a heap at the end and then around the rest of Trip’s clean, neat quarters. T’Pol sat down on the bed and folded the clothes. She ran her hands over them as she folded, allowing memories to play in her mind. She picked up the uniforms and shirts and walked to the closet, hanging them in an orderly row. She returned for the folded pants, underwear and socks and walked back to the wardrobe, kneeling in front of the drawers to put them away in tidy stacks. Her hand brushed something solid at the back of the underwear drawer and she sat the stack in her hand on the floor. T’Pol pushed the underwear aside, revealing a small box. T’Pol picked it up and opened it, staring at the gold and fire ruby ring in the box. # Trip turned away from his closet with a handful of clothes, which T’Pol took from him and took to the bunk. She pulled the hangers out and folded and packed them in his duffel bag. “I can do that, T’Pol. You don’t have to,” Trip said, walking up behind her. “I don’t mind.” Trip leaned over, kissed her cheek and smiled when she looked at him. “In that case, I appreciate it. Thank you.” T’Pol nodded her head slightly. “Wish you were going,” Trip said as he disappeared into his bathroom. “We’re being put up in this resort type of place. They’re real nice. It’s a nice change.” “You have an adequate away team. I have duties here that must be attended to.” “Don’t you wish you were going?” Trip asked. Trip reappeared in the door, carrying his shaving kit. T’Pol looked back at him. “I have gathered all the data on the planet that I need to. I feel it is frivolous to go to the surface.” “It’s fun to go exploring.” Trip smiled at her. T’Pol sighed, turning to leave. Trip grabbed her arm, pulling her to him. T’Pol turned her head so he couldn’t kiss her lips. Trip frowned, gently pushing her hair away from her eyes. “What I do?” Trip asked her. T’Pol pulled away from him. She walked to his wardrobe and crouched, pulling the drawer open. She pulled the ring box out and held it up as she stood. “Who is this ring for?” she asked. Trip’s whole body wilted. He walked over, taking the box from her and opening it. He took out the ring, turning it so that light refracted on the ruby, illuminating the inside. “It’s a wedding ring,” Trip said quietly. “I asked who it was for. I am aware of what it is. Who asked you to keep it and why?” Trip looked at her, staring at her face for a long time before speaking. He dropped to one knee in front of her, holding the ring up to her. “T’Pol, ya wanna marry me?” T’Pol stared at him. Trip took her left hand and slid the ring on her finger. “Will you marry me, T’Pol?” “When were you going to propose?” “I didn’t have this planned. Please marry me.” T’Pol looked down at the ring. “Vulcan’s do not wear jewelry to symbolize marriage.” “Humans do. If you want something simpler, then I’ll get it for your. But I want to marry you. I love you. Please marry me.” T’Pol, stunned by her answer, looked at him and her stern face relaxed. “The ring will suffice. I will marry you.” Trip stared at her for several seconds. He slowly rose to his feet. “You will?” Trip whispered. “Yes.” Trip pulled her into his arms, pressing his lips to hers. “I love you, T’Pol!” Trip hugged her. T’Pol closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder. She had no memory of her father holding her mother so joyously and it made the moment all that more important to her. T’Pol tightened her arms around Trip. # Archer handed a case to Malcolm and turned, stopping before he ran into Trip. “Can I talk to ya now?” Trip asked him. “Trip, you guys are already overdue. It’s going to have to wait.” “It can’t. I have to tell you before I go, Cap’n.” Archer smiled. “Just tell me. It’s only you, Malcolm and me. What is it?” “I proposed to T’Pol last night,” Trip beamed, “and she said yes.” Malcolm dropped the case he was moving on his foot. “AH!” Malcolm yanked his foot back, sitting down on one of the shuttle pod benches. Archer stared at Trip in astounded silence. Trip’s smile slowly began to lose intensity when neither Archer nor Malcolm said anything. He looked at Malcolm. He was sitting on a bench, holding his injured foot. “Don’t either of you say anything all at once or anything,” Trip grumbled. “Congratulations,” Malcolm said finally between greeted teeth, “And I would say that more exuberantly if my foot wasn’t killing me!” “Thanks. Are you mad, Cap’n?” “Are you sure about this?” Archer asked. “No.” Trip shook his head. “But I love ‘er.” “She’s…well…” “She’s a Vulcan. That’s what it is, isn’t it?” “Well…yeah.” Trip turned and walked away without another word. “Trip. Trip, wait,” Archer said, but Trip didn’t stop walking. Archer sighed, looking at the floor. He heard Malcolm get up and start stacking cases again. Archer looked at him. “It doesn’t bother you that he wants to marry her?” Archer asked Malcolm. “No, sir.” Archer looked away. “Should it, sir?” Archer looked back at Malcolm. Malcolm was watching him. “She’s his senior officer.” “Technically, she’s not. She’s not Starfleet. And why would it bother? I’m married to an alien woman and I have two adorable children.” “But…she’s Vulcan. He doesn’t even like Vulcans.” Malcolm’s brow furrowed. “Commander Tucker has never expressed a definitive dislike toward Vulcans, Captain, unlike you.” “Me?” Malcolm smiled a little. “I mean no offense, sir, but from the first day I met you I have been quite aware of your opinions and views on the Vulcans. To my knowledge, Commander Tucker has never shared your views in the eight years that I’ve known him. And furthermore, he loves T’Pol.” Archer looked out the hatch door. “May I ask you a personal question, Captain?” “I’m afraid of what you’re going to ask, but go ahead.” “Are you upset because of who and what his fiancée is or is there something else that bothers you about this news?” “Such as?” “He never told anyone he was going to ask her. For a moment there I was slightly perturbed at him because I thought we closer friends than that. I do intend on asking him about that at a more appropriate time.” Archer turned away from Malcolm without replying to his question. Malcolm went back to work, finished and left the shuttle pod. Archer sat down at the navigation console, pretending to be looking over the landing procedures while he waited for Trip. He heard someone come in and looked up. Trip sat down in the pilot’s seat and started pre-launch procedures. Archer stood and walked to the helm, looking out into the shuttle bay “Everything checking out?” Archer asked, looking at the controls. “Mm-hm,” Trip answered. “Trip…I’m sorry. I was surprised. I wasn’t expecting it. I’m happy for you both.” “But she’s a Vulcan,” Trip bit. “That’s not it.” “Then what is it?” Trip looked up at Archer. “I was surprised.” “You said that.” “That’s it. I was surprised. I thought you’d have at least told me you were thinking about asking her before the actual proposal. We are best friends, after all.” “I’ve had the ring for about two weeks, and I hadn’t planned on proposing last night. It came as a surprise to me too.” “In that case I forgive you.” Trip looked up at him. “But it’s not the Vulcan part?” “I’ve adjusted to T’Pol. She’s not like other Vulcans and I’m sure you’re probably to blame for some of that.” Trip smiled. “Not really. She came broken, by Vulcan terms.” Archer chuckled. “Have you two told both of your parents yet?” “I sent my folks a letter about it last night, as soon as she left my quarters. She sent hers this morning. They should know by tomorrow.” Trip patted the controls. “She doesn’t think they’ll approve.” “She believes they’ll estrange her.” “Did she mention if that bothered her?” “She said she wasn’t concerned, but she said she no longer has a desire to return to Vulcan. That surprised the hell out of me.” Trip looked up at Archer. “I guess us humans have rubbed off on her some.” “Her Vulcan has rubbed off on us some, too.” Trip smiled. “Is that why I agreed to getting married the fifteenth of April next year?” “Logical,” Archer joked. Trip laughed. “Very logical.” “I went over the navigation information and landing procedures,” Archer told Trip. “Everything’s set on the navigation terminal as soon as Malcolm gets back. We’ll see you at the rendezvous in three days. No detours, okay?” “Aye, sir.” Trip watched Archer leave the shuttle pod and then turned back prepping the shuttle pod for launch. # Archer watched the alien ship as they drew nearer. It was venting reactor coolant and smoke into space and there was extensive scoring from phase canon hits. “I’m not receiving any reply to our hails,” Hoshi said, looking back at Archer. “I am not detecting any bio signs, Captain,” T’Pol reported. Archer’s eyes widened slightly. “With that hole, I’m not surprised.” Everyone looked at the view screen. There was the hole the size of a shuttle pod in the side of the vessel. “They must have just been attacked,” Malcolm remarked. Archer looked at T’Pol. “Ever seen a ship like that?” “No, Captain.” Archer looked at the screen. “Take an away team and check it out, T’Pol. Hoshi, go with and figure out their language. I want to send a message to their people and let them know it’s here.” Hoshi and T’Pol left the bridge. Archer sat back down in his chair, staring at the ship for a few more minutes before returning to his work. Archer heard Hoshi’s companel beep and walked over to it. He put the earpiece in his ear and tapped the console. “Enterprise.” “Jon?” Admiral Garner said. “Yes, sir.” “Answering your own phone these days?” Garner joked. Archer chuckled. “I sent Hoshi off ship and haven’t called for Shipper yet.” “Jon, I need to talk to you. We should probably talk in your ready room.” “All right. Just a moment, sir.” Archer transferred the communicade to his ready room terminal and trotted into the room. # Even though Archer’s back was to her when she entered, T’Pol could tell Archer was upset from his rigid composure and the way he had his hands clamped tightly together behind his back. The ready room door closed but he didn’t turn or speak. T’Pol slid her arms behind her back and stood at attention while she waited. “You and Trip have a problem, T’Pol,” Archer said in a low, quiet voice. “This has to do with our engagement, doesn’t it?” T’Pol asked. Archer turned, leaning against the port window. “Yes. It does. Apparently your parents weren’t displeased enough to estrange you. The High Command is demanding you return immediately to Vulcan for reassignment. They are sending a science vessel to rendezvous with us in three days.” “Was this also Starfleet’s orders?” “No. Starfleet is refusing to get involved, but not for lack of the High Command trying to pressure them into it. Because Starfleet is taking a neutral position I can’t interfere.” T’Pol looked down. She looked up when Archer laid his hand on her arm. “I can’t do anything, officially, but as your friend I’m going to try to find a way out of this for both of you. You are part of this crew and I don’t want to lose you.” “I need time to meditate before Charles returns.” “Take today off. Doctor Phlox and I leave in the morning to meet with the Gelas. Unfortunately, life still goes on despite this.” “Yes. Life does.” T’Pol turned away and left Archer turned back to the port window, closing his eyes. # “Sub-Commander, there is a ship approaching at high warp and hailing us,” Hoshi reported. T’Pol looked up from her console. “In Vulcan?” T’Pol asked in a dark voice. Hoshi looked back at T’Pol before answering. “No. It’s a Wartay vessel. The aliens of the derelict ship we found.” “On screen,” T’Pol said as she rose and walked around to stand in front of the Captain’s chair. The alien appeared on the view screen. He had slits where a human’s nose would have been and green and black stripes across his face and hands. He was dressed in dark green clothes and had a mohawk of matching strips of hair. T’Pol opened her mouth to greet the alien but the Wartay cut T’Pol off, snarling, “You have committed an act of war against the Wartay. You will be destroyed.” “What act of war ha—?” T’Pol began but the alien was already gone. “They’re charging weapons, Sub-Commander,” the officer manning weapons reported. “Polarize shielding. Go to Tactical alert.” “Should I return fire?” “No. Lieutenant Sato, hail them.” Enterprise shuddered from a phaser blast. The alien appeared on the view screen again. “Why are you attacking us?” T’Pol asked. “You sent us a message regarding one of our ships that you found.” “We didn’t attack that ship,” T’Pol said, “We made that clear in the message we sent.” “You sent the message and left the wreckage before the barter ship arrived. That is an act of war against us. Do you wish to barter now?” “No. We did—” “FIRE!” the alien ordered T’Pol fell back into the Captain’s chair when Enterprise was hit again. She pushed herself back onto her feet. “We didn’t send the message so we could barter. We sent it so you would know where your ship was.” “I have heard eno—” “However, we haven’t had time to determine our requests for a barter deal,” T’Pol continued, “If you cease firing we will draw up our request and open negotiations. We were unaware that bartering was expected.” The alien held up his hand, sitting back. “Very well. You have fifteen minutes.” The alien disappeared from the view screen. “Do any of you know how to barter?” T’Pol asked the crewmen. “I am unable to barter.” “I’ll try,” Hoshi offered. “Have you ever bartered before?” “No, but I watched my father do it all the time.” “Sista can barter,” Travis said, looking back at T’Pol. “Lieutenant, call Vardee to the bridge,” T’Pol told Hoshi. Hoshi turned and called Sista to the bridge. Sista walked off the lift, smiling at T’Pol as she approached. “What is needed?” Sista asked. “You are skilled at bartering?” “Yes.” “Apparently it is an act of war not to stay at a Wartay wreckage to barter and to refuse bartering. I’m not sure how the law works, but they’ll fire on us again if we don’t barter.” T’Pol motioned to the view monitor. “I would appreciate it if you would perform this task.” Sista walked around in front of helm. “Hail them, Hoshi. Run Varlikon translator. So I don’t get us blown up.” Sista winked at Hoshi. Hoshi smiled, sending the hail. The alien appeared on the view screen. “Are you prepared to barter?” “I would like to know the purpose of the vessel,” Sista said. “It was a war vessel.” “And what are you asking for in exchange?” “We have received our barter; the message to alert us to the coordinates of the wreckage. There was no barter offer in it.” “Our apologies. I require a brief of the expectations for this barter.” “You are allowed to barter for currency or anything you found of value on the ship. We reserve the right to refuse all or some of your barter request.” “Very good. I must have a consultation period with Sub-Commander T’Pol.” Sista glanced at T’Pol. “Will you grant a consultation period?” “Ten minutes.” “Vardee out.” Sista looked at T’Pol when the screen went black. “Who was on the away team?” “Myself, Commander Tucker, Lieutenants Reed and Sato, and Doctor Phlox,” T’Pol answered. Sista looked at Hoshi. “You’re the only one aboard, Hoshi. Do you recall anything that intrigued the others?” Hoshi smiled. “The entire ship!” “While we could barter for that, I don’t think it would be accepted. Anything else?” “Malcolm was fascinated with their missiles and cannons. He was going on about how advance they were. And the tractor beam. Trip found these colored rods about this wide and this long,” Hoshi showed the measurements with her hands. “He didn’t know what they were, but he was fascinated by them. Doctor Phlox was intrigued by everything in the Sickbay.” “And you?” “I just wanted to come home.” Sista glanced at T’Pol, losing her smile. Hoshi looked at T’Pol, but to her eyes there was no change in the Vulcan’s somber demeanor. “Let’s hail them and strike a barter, shall we?” Sista told Hoshi. Hoshi laughed. Sista turned back to the view monitor and the alien reappeared. “We valued it at forty,” Sista informed him. He smirked again. “That was a war ship. It was worth twice that.” Vardee shot T’Pol a fake impressed look. “In that case we ask for forty-five percent.” “That is not worth our time!” “Very well. We saw a technology on the ship that looked like a rod about this long and this wide.” Sista showed the alien the measurements with her hands. “And colored different colors. What is this technology called? What is it used for?” “Those are isolinear rods. Data is stored on them.” “We ask five-five percent, and the following technologies: isolinear rod, medical and tractor beam.” “We will agree to exchange medical and isolinear technology. We will not exchange the tractor beam technology.” “Then we will take sixty percent and the isolinear rod technology.” “Fifty percent,” the Wartay replied. “Sixty.” He sat back, appearing to be thinking. “Wait.” The screen went back to a view of space. The bridge was silent while they waited. “They’re hailing us again,” Hoshi said. “Okay,” Sista told her. The alien appeared again. “Forty percent, isolinear rod and tractor beam technology,” he said. “Fifty percent and the technologies.” “We will not agree.” “We will not change our mind.” “Forty percent plus the technologies…that’s over the price of the ship.” “Hardly! We could return and salvage the technology ourselves. It is our right. We made claim on it by alerting you.” “Then why haven’t you taken it?” Sista pulled her hands behind her back and put on a smug look. “Because you’ve just let us know that we could.” The alien sat back. “Forty-three percent and the technologies.” “Forty-five and both technologies.” He made a growling sound. “Fine! Fine. Forty-five percent and both technologies. We will prepare the latinum and beam it to you. Designate a location.” “The bridge will do. And the technologies?” “We are preparing the information now. Pleasure doing business,” the alien disappeared. Sista turned to T’Pol. “Was that appropriate?” T’Pol nodded once. “They’re ready to transport, Sub-Commander,” Hoshi said. “Tell them to proceed.” In front of the helm ten cases appeared, each case one-meter long and one and a half meters deep. Two PADDs appeared on the floor beside the cases. T’Pol walked to the cases, looking them over. She looked back at Sista. “How much currency did your barter for?” “Forty-five percent of one hundred and eighty million bars of latinum,” Sista replied, “Eighty-one million bars of latinum.” “Yes.” T’Pol looked at the crates. “Lieutenant Sato, call a couple crewmen to the bridge to have this moved to the Captain’s quarters for now.” “Aye, ma’am.” T’Pol turned back to Sista. “Thank you for your assistance, Vardee.” Sista nodded, offering her a smile as she left. T’Pol returned to her station, going to work without another word. Hoshi’s console beeped and she turned back to it. “It’s Captain Archer, Sub-Commander. They just came into communication range.” “Put him on.” “Sensors just detected a ship going to warp. What’s happening?” Archer asked on the bridge COM. “We offended the Wartay. I can explain in detail when you return.” “Okay. Have there been any other surprises? Any early visitors?” “No, Captain. The Vulcan’s have not contacted us or arrived early.” “Good. We’ll be there in a half hour. Travis, be ready to head to the rendezvous spot to pick up Trip and Malcolm as soon as we’re secured.” “Aye, sir,” Travis said. T’Pol returned to her work without a word. Continue to Chapter 2

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