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Father to the Man By Blackn’blue
Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek. I wrote this for fun.
Genre: Drama/Angst
Note: Vulcan terms used in this story were stolen wholesale either from the Vulcan Language Dictionary at A/N: I am still a politically incorrect caveman. Enlightenment beats against my defenses in vain. Prepare to be offended. Part 3: T’Pol carried the baby back into the front room, just in time to hear Kuvak say, “There will be no difficulty about contacting the Vahklas, Commander Tucker. Let me know whenever you are ready to send a message and I will arrange it.” She nearly stumbled with the baby in her arms. T’Pol felt a light touch from T’Pau on her arm, steadying her. Trip turned in alarm at the bolt of fear he detected coming through the bond. Before he could say anything she demanded, “Why would you wish to contact the Vahklas?” Trip looked carefully at his wife. “I might be sending a message to Kov. You remember Kov don’t you? The engineer? He’s Kuvak’s son.” Trip couldn't sort out the tangled mass of feelings that suddenly surged through the bond. Relief, fear, frustration, concern, shame, anger, worry. All of these were mixed together in a snarled up tangle of emotion. Then suddenly everything cut off sharply as T’Pol snapped her end of the bond tightly closed. Trip deferred comment. The longer they stayed bonded, the harder it was becoming to tell where T'Pol's emotions stopped and his emotions began. The woman that he had once mentally dubbed 'ice queen' was, beneath her hard won facade, a swirling cauldron of passion that sometimes made Trip feel like a placid pond. It really got interesting when they both dropped their barriers and the feedback loop took off. Like during sex... He shook his head, earning a curious look from the other men, and returned to the conversation. “When Enterprise gets here I will make a point to visit Hess and talk to her about Kov. Like I said, it's a little bit touchy for Humans. Better to let me handle the initial approach. Then, if they start talking to each other and seem interested, it would be appropriate for Kov to introduce her to you and get your blessing.” A cool breeze trickled through the bond. The barest hint of relief. Trip smiled to himself. “No hun,” he thought, “I wasn't setting up to hunt him down. Of course, if the Vahklas happens to show up and Tolaris happens to still be on it, and I happen to pass within striking range, well then. That will be a whole different kettle of fish.” “Lieutenant Commander Hess is an exemplary officer and an honorable person,” T'Pol volunteered. “She would be a credit to any House.” T'Lissa started kicking and issuing urgent grunts, so T'Pol dug into the bag after her bottle. A soon as the nipple got within range, the greedy little goblin latched on like a barnacle and started guzzling. T'Para remarked, “I see that the resemblance to her Sa-Mekh extends farther than superficial appearance.” T'Pol quirked an eyebrow curiously while Ganlas and Kuvak pasted on carefully blank looks. T'Pau settled down beside Kuvak and said, “The Vahklas has been in deep space for several years. It is unfortunate that they have seen fit to avoid any contact with our ships or colonies.” The Chief Minister looked irritated. “Many of the reasons for their departure no longer apply. Melding is no longer forbidden. Those members of the V'Tosh Katur who practice the art could now return to Vulcan and learn the proper techniques to avoid injuring themselves and others.” Her glance flickered to T'Pol, who did not meet her eye. Trip carefully did not react, to T'Pol's heartfelt relief. She had recoiled in real fear after telling Trip about what Tolaris had done to her during their mind meld. The sheer animal savagery of his murderous rage was as intense as any Vulcan male’s would have been. Since that day a lurking worry had dwelt in the back of T’Pol’s mind, concerning what Trip would do if he ever encountered Tolaris again. “There are still many aspects of their lifestyle that conflict with the Kirshara,” Kuvak said bitterly. “I have repeatedly tried to discuss this with Kov, but to no avail. Every attempt results in adding to the friction between us. Finally I stopped even trying.” Trip couldn't help grinning. “Like eating meat. I will never forget the look on Captain Archer's face when Tavin asked him to pass the chicken. I thought T'Pol was gonna to bust a blood vessel.” None of the Vulcan's shared his amusement. “It is a barbaric practice,” Kuvak declared in revulsion. Suddenly recalling that he was talking to a Human, he quickly added, “I speak only for Vulcans, Commander. I would not presume to pass judgment on any other species.” “No offense,” Trip assured him. “T'Pol has just about talked me down to the bare minimum level of meat in my diet anyway, for health reasons. Although I still crave it pretty bad sometimes, I am starting to get used to surviving with only a few bites occasionally.” “Your meat craving, like your craving for sugar,” T'Pol lectured him, “is a holdover from your ancestor's struggle for food in the hostile conditions of an ice age. If you consumed all the flesh and sugar that your appetite craves, you would literally eat yourself to death.” “Yes ma'am,” Trip bowed his head with a smile. “You are correct of course. On scientific matters you always are.” “It is agreeable to hear you finally acknowledge it,” she told him primly. “Engineering, not so much,” Trip added, sipping his third root beer. T'Pol shot him a glare. “If I may return to the subject that brought us here,” Ganlas interjected delicately, “I would like to ask T'Pol something. Did Koss, at any time prior to or during your marriage, mention V'Rald by name in conjunction with the intimidation against your mother? If not before the wedding, perhaps afterward while the two of you were alone together during the period of seclusion?” T'Pol closed her eyes in pain. The sickening wave that came crashing through her barriers from her adun was very nearly more than she could endure. Through clenched teeth she managed to force out, “Please be precise in your language krei. The period of seclusion is part of the wedding itself. The ceremony is not considered complete until the day and night of seclusion is over.” She did not open her eyes. This was not going to be a good night. Not good at all. Ganlas was puzzled, but willing to comply. “Of course. Strictly speaking you are correct, although most commonly the public portion of the ceremony is referred to as the wedding itself. But the seclusion is certainly integral to the ritual. In any case, did Koss mention V'Rald at any point during this time?” “Only to state that he would speak to V'Rald on my mother's behalf,” T'Pol said weakly. She licked her lips hesitantly and looked at Trip, hoping against hope that he would be able to maintain control until they could reach privacy. No such luck, although by Human standards he was doing a desperate job trying. But he couldn't stop the look in his eyes. When her adun raised his head to meet her glance, T'Pol wanted to turn and run away. Far away. Instead she sat and met his eyes steadily, silently sending him strength, and love, and reassurance through the bond with everything she had. He didn't believe her. She could feel the bitterness of his distrust feeding back through the connection between them. She wanted to howl in grief. Not this, not now. Of all things, she didn't need this. And of all times for it to come up, she did not need this now. Trip was thinking that she had lied to him, and she couldn't explain it here. T'Lissa felt the turmoil. Ordinarily the parental bond was no more than a dimly felt background noise to the tiny one. Her natural self-absorption insulated her from the ordinary mood shifts of daily life between her mother and father. Even their rare arguments left her mostly unfazed. But not this time. The tornado of dark passion that ripped and tore back and forth between them was leaving emotional devastation in its wake, and shook the baby to her tender little core. She spit the nipple and started screaming in distress. Instantly T'Pol clamped down on her end of the mating bond and initiated the kohlinar disciplines. She hugged T'Lissa close and murmured softly her her, rocking gently and reaching through the maternal bond to calm her. Trip leaned back and unobtrusively started working through the basic breathing exercises that he used to achieve the first level meditation that T'Pol had taught him. He reached over and put two fingers on T'Lissa's face, sending love and warm protectiveness. Her screams soon tapered off into pitiful sobbing. T'Para stood up. “Trip. T'Pol. Bring the baby and come with me. Now.” They stood up dispirited and followed her without argument. The Eldest Mother led them down the hallway to the same bedroom T'Pol had used for a changing area. Once inside she closed the door and demanded, “Explain. And don't try to evade my questions. I have no time for foolish games.” “Ask T'Pol,” Trip snarled. T'Lissa jumped and whined, and Trip's expressed twisted into shame and distress. He put his hand over his face and started deep breathing again. “I'm sorry. I'm upset. I think I should take a walk to clear my head. My Human lack of control is causing this. Where is your back door?” Before T'Para could answer him, T'Pol cut in, “I did not lie to you Trip. I told you that after the ceremony was complete I went to spend the rest of my time meditating alone. This was the the absolute truth.” “Yeah.” He did not look at her. “Where is the back door T'Para?” “You are not leaving yet Trip,” the old lady told him. “The hell I'm not,” he growled. Trip strode toward the room's doorway and T'Para sidestepped to block him. He stopped in disbelief and stared at her. “Nothing happened that night Trip.” T'Pol started talking fast. “I swear it. Nothing happened. Koss wanted to seal our bonding during the seclusion by mating, but I refused him. I told him that I would not mate with him until the Pon Farr. I did not want him ashayam. You were the one I wanted then, and you are the one I want now. I did not lie to you and I have never betrayed our bond.” “Sure,” he turned quickly and strode away from the door. Before either of the women realized his intent, Trip made a running leap to the sill of the room's single window and and pulled himself through. He crouched on the sill for a second, then dropped to the gravel outside. They heard his footsteps crunching as he walked quickly away. T'Pol stood stunned and immobile, staring after her husband. T'Para blinked twice and her nostrils twitched. “A remarkably emotional man. Is he always this way?” “No,” T'Pol said dully. “He is not. I am the cause.” “Because of your bond?” T'Para asked. “Yes,” T'Pol bowed her head. “Human emotions are not as powerful as ours. When my control slips, it overwhelms my adun's mastery of himself.” T'Para considered this. “Have you attempted to instruct him in the disciplines of Surak?” “He cannot follow the path of arie'mnu,” T'Pol told her. “No Human can. Their bodies are constructed such that emotions must be expressed and purged. Otherwise the energy they generate will turn inward and inflict self-destructive damage.” T'Para walked over and sat down on the bed. She pointed to a spot beside her and ordered T'Pol, “Sit child.” T'Pol sat. “Explain why you lost control of yourself so severely that your adun was driven to this extreme. Explain why your bond was thrown into such turmoil that T'Lissa became terrified.” Her tone left no doubt that she wasn't requesting, she was issuing a command as Eldest Mother. T'Pol reluctantly told T'Para how the bond between Trip and herself was formed in the Expanse. She explained that they were both unaware of it at the time of her marriage to Koss. T'Para heard this and, to T'Pol's absolute incredulity, snorted and shook her head. “Continue girl,” she snapped impatiently. T'Pol's mouth worked silently a few times before she finally managed to produce sounds again. “When I returned to Enterprise, I could barely bring myself to face Trip.” T'Pol did not raise her eyes from the baby. “He, being Human, assumed that Koss and I had spent the time after our wedding together. I wanted him to understand that I did not stay with Koss any longer than I absolutely was required to do. And because the seclusion period was an unpleasant memory, I did not bring it up. I considered it irrelevant. As I told Trip, we spent a day and a night in the same house. But that is all we did. We did not mate.” “From your adun's reaction, he seems to doubt that.” “I know.” T'Pol stood up and carried T'Lissa over to the window. Trip was nowhere to be seen. She concentrated hard. A bare flicker of awareness came to her. He was walking down the street. Walking fast. Hot. Tired. Too hot. He needed to slow down. She started to worry. He was thirsty, the sensation of dry throat and mouth came through clearly. His vision was blurring. She tried to send him a calling to return. If he heard her, he ignored it. Unless she was in meditation, or Trip was asleep, there was no way to establish an actual conversational link through the bond. Even when she was meditating Trip had to be in a receptive state of mind. She could not force him to listen to her if he chose to refuse her connection. The mating bond was far, far older than conscious thought. The connection between male and female was made at the lower levels of the brain, at the emotional, instinctive centers of the nervous system. Emotions and physical needs could be transmitted with perfect clarity. Simple desires like lust and loneliness could also be transmitted. But more complicated thoughts and concepts were almost impossible. “Why does he not believe you, T'Pol? Have you lied to him before?” T'Para was implacable. “No!” She spoke sharply. “I have never lied to him.” T'Pol did not turn away from the window. T'Para looked thoughtfully at her back while T'Lissa, worn from all the excitement and suddenly remembering her interrupted bottle, started fussing again. T'Para stood up. “I will bring the baby's supplies and inform the others that you will be indisposed for the rest of the afternoon. Tend your child and rest here until Trip returns.” T'Pol did not protest her instructions. -&- Corporal Pablo Farouk slid the door to his quarters aside and stepped through with with relief. A long shift this time, especially with the extra duty tracking those blasted infiltrators. He grinned. Ensign Baker really put his foot in it today. Fingering Chef for unauthorized access to the rear panels of the re-sequencing processors wasn’t the smartest move he ever made. Turned out that the old geezer was just setting out some traps for a mouse that hitched a ride with the last load of supplies from Earth. Farouk chuckled as he peeled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it on his bunk. For a minute he was sure that Chef would take his biggest iron skillet and hammer the Ensign right down into the deck plates. He started to unfasten his pants and felt something cold and wet hit his back. “Gotcha!” A triumphant female voice cried. Corporal Farouk spun in a crouch and saw Ensign Hoshi Sato leaning gleefully out of his locker with a squirt gun in her hand. “Direct hit.” A deep flush spread over his face and neck as she emerged. “Sorry to intrude like this Corporal, but Commander Reed told us to get creative. He also said to feel free to use any tactic that a real intruder might use, and I didn’t think a real assassin would hesitate to break into someone’s private quarters.” Farouk stood up and said between his teeth, “You are absolutely right Ensign Sato. You nailed me fair and square. My compliments. A quick, efficient kill.” Inwardly he cursed himself. “Idiot. You didn’t even think to check the locker. You knew there are people on this ship small enough to fit inside there, and you didn’t even think to check. Major Hayes would have booted your stupid ass out the airlock just as you stand right now, half naked.” Hoshi walked over to the intercom. “Sato to Reed.” “Reed here” “Mission accomplished Lieutenant Commander,” Hoshi said proudly. “My target is eliminated.” “Congratulations Ensign,” Malcolm's voice sounded even dryer than usual. “Is Corporal Farouk there with you?” “Affirmative Commander,” Farouk replied stiffly. “Good,” was all Malcolm said. “You have earned the right to pick the next movie night selection Ensign. And it doesn’t matter whether it is Casablanca, or Breakfast at Tiffany’s, or even, Saint’s forbid, The Bridges of Madison County. Corporal Farouk’s entire team will be sitting there on the front row watching it. Bright eyed and bushy tailed. Won’t they Corporal?” “Yes, Sir,” Farouk replied glumly. -&- After three blocks Trip stopped to prop up against a privacy wall and pant like a dog. T’Pol’s presence in the back of his mind kept nudging him to turn around. He ignored it. “How much more of this shit does she expect me to eat?” he thought angrily. “All I ever asked her to do was be straight with me. Was that too much?” He remembered T’Lissa screaming and almost sank to the ground in pain and shame. He had hurt his little girl. The whole purpose of his existence was to protect his family, and he ended up hurting them. Trip turned and leaned his head on his arm, resting against the cool stone of the wall for a few minutes to let his heartbeat slow down. He had to think. No more reacting. Time to decide where he was going. First things first. He needed some food and drink and a chance to rest someplace cool. Trip pushed away from the wall and aimed for the nearest subsurface transport terminal. He summoned a cube, boarded it, and in rancid Vulcan directed it to head for the Earth embassy. Eleven minutes later he stepped out and painfully dragged himself up the spiral ramp to the gates of the Human compound. The automatic scanners ran over him and cross-referenced the database. Identity: Tucker, Charles. Affiliation: Starfleet. Rank: Commander. Current Assignment: Detached R&D on Vulcan. The gates clicked and slid open to let him pass without an argument. Entering the mall was like stepping into an icebox. Actually the temperature in the compound buildings was maintained at four degrees centigrade above human average, to avoid shocking the systems of personnel who needed to come and go regularly. But it felt cold to someone who had been living with Vulcan’s natural temperatures. Trip turned and headed for the main promenade, where the coffee shop was located. He got a tall cup of double strength java and found a corner table to brood at. Sitting down and propping his feet up in the empty chair next to him was the best thing that had happened to him all day. Now what though? Trip sipped the deliciously bitter brew and considered his next move. Going back to T’Para’s did not appeal to him for some reason. Going anywhere did not appeal to him for some reason. Neither did sitting here for that matter, but it offered the advantage of inertia. Just when he thought he was starting to get a handle on things here, it blew up in his face. When he found out T’Pau already knew about the crap Koss pulled, Trip felt like he had dodged a bullet. Maybe he wouldn’t have to be crucified after all. Which felt great for all of maybe fifteen minutes. She really had spent a wedding night with the son of a bitch. Why didn't she just tell him that up front? Did T'Pol actually enjoy holding out on him? She swore she never screwed the guy. Right. So why then did it feel like she was lying? Why was his gut screaming at him that she was hiding something? Trip laughed bitterly. He didn’t have any right to complain. She married the guy. You get married, you spend the night together. It’s just the way things are done, right? Maybe when she went back to the ship and saw him mooning around with his lip dragging the deck, she just decided to take pity on him. Trip rubbed his forehead. Fine. It was over and done with. There was no reason to let it get to him this way. What was wrong with him anyway? Why did he let her do this to him? No other woman he had ever known could reach down inside him and twist his guts this way. Idiot. She was inside his head, of course she could reach down inside him. He took another slug of coffee and realized that he had emptied the cup already. Maybe a swim would help, since he was already here. It couldn’t hurt anything. He got up and tossed the cup into the recycling slot. A few hard laps would at least work off some adrenaline. -&- Doctor Phlox puttered along the row of shelves with his PADD, going down the list of supplies. His inventory of drugs and reagents required almost constant updating. Especially since some of the more exotic potions that he extracted from his pets had a shelf life of mere hours. He stopped at a locked cabinet and looked more closely. One of the bottles looked odd. The shape was slightly wrong. So was the color. Phlox keyed in the security code and opened the door to find that one of his reserve stocks of aspirin had been replaced with flour. A label on the side of the bottle requested that he report his discovery to Lieutenant Commander Reed at his earliest convenience. Phlox’s lips twitched. Oh this game was starting to become quite amusing. As long as they stayed out of his really important supplies of course. He dutifully ambled over to the comm and hit the button. “Phlox to Commander Reed.” In the Armory, Malcolm reached over and keyed the switch at his station. “Reed here. Go ahead Doctor.” “It seems that I have been involved in an unauthorized exchange. The label said to let you know about it.” “Ah. Thank you Doctor. That means they were successful in phase one of their assignment. Phase two requires them to get it to a shuttle pod and conceal it, in order to simulate smuggling it off the ship. Thank you Doctor. Reed out.” He cut the connection, then hit the switch again. “Reed to Crewman Kenj.” “Kenj here.” “Intruders have stolen valuable biomaterials from sickbay. We have reason to believe that they will attempt to smuggle this material aboard one of the shuttle pods in order to get it off the ship. Intercept them if you can.” “Yes! Sir!” Malcolm looked over at Lieutenant Tran and shared a grin with her at the enthusiasm in the young man’s voice. Kenj was one of the newest arrivals on Enterprise. Straight out of training and still sopping wet behind the ears. But he was absolutely on fire to prove himself. Malcolm tried to keep the twinge of sadness at bay while he wondered how long it would last. “At least for now he’s having fun,” Tran pointed out, causing Malcolm to wonder once more if she was telepathic. They chuckled together and returned to the perpetual job of fine tuning the targeting sensors. -&- T’Para returned from delivering the supplies to T’Pol and seated herself. “Are they well?” T’Pau asked in concern. “Physically, T’Pol and the baby seem well. I cannot speak for Trip since he has removed himself for a time.” T’Para stopped for a while to consider something. “I do not believe that either of them will be able to deal with more questions today. A private matter has come up that must be dealt with.” “Of course,” Ganlas acquiesced. “Have them contact me when they are ready to resume.” He stood up and offered the ta’al gesture. “Live long and prosper.” The three of them returned appropriate sentiments and watched him depart. “Is there any way that we can be of assistance?” T’Pau wanted to know. “It is not acceptable for this situation to be allowed to interfere with T’Lissa’s development.” T’Para gave them both a look from beneath her eyebrows. “It is less a matter of the situation than it is a case of how it is being handled.” T’Pau’s eyebrows drew together slightly. “ I have already intruded by suggesting to T’Pol that she should be more open with her adun. Is the current difficulty related to that?” T’Para looked at Kuvak. He stirred and rose. “My presence is plainly no longer required. Please do not hesitate to call upon me if I can be of assistance in this matter or any other Lady T’Para. Aside from the debt that all of Vulcan owes to the daughter of your house and her adun, I personally owe Trip a significant debt of honor for his assistance in mending the rift between my son and myself. I will gladly do anything within my power to aid them.” He looked at T’Pau. “Chief Minister, I will meet with you at the Council offices this evening. Until then, peace and long life to you both.” Kuvak walked out the front door, meeting his body guard halfway to the front gate. The massive portal closed behind them with a soft click, leaving the two women to consult with each other undisturbed. “What do you know of this situation, T'Pau?” T'Para demanded. She did not use the chief Minister's official title, indicating that this was a personal conversation. That being the case, T'Pau was under extraordinary pressure to comply with her inquiry. As Eldest Mother of T'Pol's clan, T'Para wielded authority equivalent to that of a feudal lord when it came to the welfare of her kin. It took a while, but eventually T'Para got the whole story. Afterward they sat together in silence for a time. “He knows that she is hiding something from him,” T’Pau finally pointed out. “Of course he knows,” T’Para snapped impatiently. “He is her bond mate. How can she think he would not feel it? He may not be able to delve into her thoughts and draw the information out, but he can certainly detect her discomfort with certain subjects. The child is behaving foolishly.” “As long as she continues to withhold information, their bond will suffer discord,” T’Pau informed the older woman. “Ever since the incident with Captain Archer...” Even in private, Surak’s katra was not a subject to be discussed openly or lightly. “I have been studying Human psychology. Humans, especially Human males, tend to be suspicious and territorial. Hiding something is the surest possible way to convince them that one has a guilty secret.” “Yet another point of similarity between our people,” T’Para remarked. “Vulcan males are the same.” T’Pau raised an eyebrow and she added firmly, “You will discover the truth once you have taken a mate daughter. The more I learn of Trip, the more I am struck by his resemblance to my own sons.” T’Para allowed her control to slip to the point of letting her nostrils flare and actually rubbed her upper lip briefly, equivalent to anyone else tearing their hair out. “T’Pol informed me that Humans are physically required to express and purge their emotions, or face damaging health consequences,” T’Para mentioned. “I believe that is correct,” T’Pau responded. “Small wonder then, that he exhibited such extreme reactions at the gathering, and again today. With her own control compromised by the trellium damage, T'Pol's emotions must be quite overwhelming to him. Without the disciplines of arie'mnu to support him, his only recourse would be to depend on raw willpower. One could hardly expect him to maintain full control under such circumstances.” T'Para looked disgusted. “And yet she allowed the boy to sit there and take the blame for his emotional display at the gathering. I think it is time that you left, T'Pau. I must discuss some matters with the daughter of my house.” TBC |
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