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"The Thorn and the Rose"
Rating: PG-13 A/N: Many thanks to Distracted for her beta-ing skills. CHAPTER 24: T'POL "I do not need to see that human again." T'Pol was taken aback by the disagreeable tone in Doctor Kaal's voice. That, coupled with a disdainful glare, left no doubt that he disapproved of her and her decision to associate with humans. "As I have already stated," she began in a quiet, controlled voice, "the high priest has instructed me to…" "My hearing is not impaired," he snapped coldly. "I will sedate your human. I will sedate you. I do not, however, have to be present to do so." He thrust two hyposprays into her hands. She numbly looked down at them. One was labeled "Human." The second was labeled "Vulcan." "I believe you are a scientist, Commander T'Pol. You should be able to administer a hypospray." "The dosages…" "…are written on this tablet. Adjust them to suit yourself." The doctor held out a padd to her. "If there is nothing else, I have work to do." Silently, she took the padd, nodded once, and left the doctor to his work. As she walked down the dimly lit corridor to Commander Tucker's room, the skirts of her taupe gown and olive green robes brushed against her legs. She held the two hyposprays out in front of her. Even in the warm air of the Sanctuary, they felt cold in her hand, tangible reminders of her fall from grace. Earlier in the day, two priests had turned away from her when she approached. She had seen the look in the doctor's eyes. How many people would be disgusted by her and the choices she had made? Would all doors be closed to her when it became known that she had allied herself with a human? As she struggled with her emotions, her thoughts turned to Enterprise and the warmth and acceptance she had eventually found there. Was she wrong to have stayed? After Klaang was returned to the Klingon home world, she could have walked away from Enterprise. Captain Archer and the other humans would have had no regrets, and she would not now be a pariah among her own people. In time, she would have returned to Vulcan and married Koss. She would have borne his children and moved forward with her career. There would have been few surprises, but there would have been stability. Life would have been productive, fulfilling, and disciplined. Instead, against all logic, she had chosen to stay on Enterprise. She had embarrassed her people by helping to expose their subterfuge at the P'Jem Monastery. She had sought out emotions, even though everything she had been taught warned against such an indulgence. She had allowed herself to be tempted by sexual curiosity and, for her sins, found herself bonded to an overly emotional and seemingly unstable human being. Now she was an outcast. Her mother had predicted this fate. Why hadn't she listened? T'Pol slowed her pace as she neared the chamber occupied by Commander Tucker. When she reached the door, she paused. The chaotic emotions assailing her mind gave some indication of what awaited her inside. She took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself, but it was no more effective than a drop of water in a vast desert. Reaching forward, she knocked on the door. When there was no response, she tried again. Finally, she triggered the door mechanism and watched in silence as the door slid open. The chamber was dimly lit. "Trip," she called from the doorway. Slowly, she entered and walked across the room. Much to her surprise, the bed was empty. As she pivoted in place, her eyes swept the room, but the commander was nowhere to be seen. Tamping down a growing sense of unease, she deposited the hyposprays on the simple oval table at the center of the room and left hastily. Where would he go? The shuttlepod was the logical place to begin her search. Moving quickly down the corridor, she exited the Sanctuary and headed for the main staircase. It was evening and the air was hazy from the waning heat of the day. As the sun went down, the shuttlepod below was encased in a golden light like a treasure chest made ready to be set before kings. She blinked and took a closer look. The hatch was closed. The interior of the shuttlepod was dark and appeared to be unoccupied. Casting her eyes about, she quickly spied a solitary figure at the far end of the landing. The waning light danced over his dark blond hair, setting it, too, aglow. Relieved, she headed towards him. Trip stood leaning forward with his arms braced against the waist-high wall which ran along the edge of the landing. His attention was focused on the jagged rocks below. Stopping next to him, T'Pol stood silently for a few moments. When he failed to acknowledge her presence, she reached over and touched his arm, feeling the texture of the Vulcan suit beneath her fingertips. "I went to your room and you were gone," she said quietly. "I was concerned." He raised his head and looked out across the narrow valley to the towering mountains in the distance. "The walls were startin' to close in on me. I needed to get out and move around a bit." She took in the light sheen of perspiration on his face. She knew he was not comfortable in this desert world, but, as always, he made no complaint. There was a tightness about his mouth and eyes that hinted at the terrible grief and hopelessness that threatened to crush his spirit. "It is almost time for the evening meal. Would you like something to eat?" "Thanks, T'Pol, but I'm not hungry. You go ahead." She searched her mind for something to say, but she could only think of trivialities. Finally, for lack of anything better to say, she murmured, "This has been an exhausting day. You should…" "Don't tell me to rest," Trip snapped. "Sleep isn't the answer for everything, ya know. Sometimes it's nothin' but a doorway straight to hell." In his present state, she knew that words alone would not reach him. She needed to offer him some tangible form of comfort. Reaching out, she placed her hand lightly on top of his. Trip stiffened, but he didn't pull his hand away. After a moment, he slowly spread his fingers apart, allowing her to interlace her fingers with his. When he drew his fingers back, hers moved in unison until two hands loosely formed a single fist. It was a simple gesture, but she found it eminently satisfying. As she felt the warmth of his hand and the gentle pressure of his fingers against hers, all thoughts of Koss and a life spent as a dutiful Vulcan wife disappeared. Why was she fooling herself? She had no interest in any other man. Against all reason, this emotional human completed her. He meshed perfectly with her in body, mind and soul, like two intricately carved pieces in an ancient Vulcan puzzle. The world about them was quiet, the air still. Overhead, the red-gold Vulcan sky was set ablaze as though doomed daylight was fighting valiantly to keep the encroaching night at bay. As she watched the glorious sunset with her chosen mate beside her, T'Pol realized that she was content. All that she cherished about her home world was laid out before her: the red-hued rocks, the heat rising from the sun-baked ground, the rugged elegance of the surrounding mountains, and the primitive energy of an untamed land. This was the world she had wanted to share with Trip when she brought him to Vulcan over a year ago. He had been impressed with its beauty then. Perhaps in time he could learn to be as comfortable here as she was. Given her choice, she would have preferred to remain beside her mate far into the night, but all too soon, she felt Trip push himself away from the wall and his hand slipped out from under hers. "I know you mean well, T'Pol," he said tightly, "but you don't have to babysit me. I have some thinkin' to do. I'll head back to my room in a little while." "It is obvious that something is bothering you. Please tell me what is wrong." Trip shrugged his shoulders and began to examine the bruised knuckles of his right hand. "Let's see. I didn't cooperate when the high priest tried to help me. I slugged the captain for no good reason. I ranted and raved like a crazy man. Is that enough for ya?" "Torok and Captain Archer do not blame you for your actions. They understand that you are under a great deal of stress. There must be something else that is upsetting you." Trip's head snapped up, and he glared at her. "Of course there is. That high priest of yours decided that a mind meld was the answer to all my problems. Well, he was just about as wrong as he could be. Diggin' up the past accomplishes nothing. He made me see things again -- terrible things -- that I've spent years tryin' to forget." A look of pure anguish contorted Trip's face. He tented his hands over his nose and squeezed both eyes shut as he fought to keep from breaking down. When he was finally able to speak again, he whispered, "I had to watch people I cared for…die all over again. Horrible, pointless deaths. They counted on me, T'Pol, and I let ‘em down." A wave of guilt washed over her. As she bolstered her inner defenses to withstand the onslaught, she knew, without question, that the feelings she was experiencing were his. She looked at his face and found it increasingly difficult to suppress her growing sense of alarm. For the first time she began to question Torok's methods. The recovered memories were tearing Trip apart. He had obviously gained no consolation from his time with the high priest, only more misery and regret. Dropping his hands, Trip asked plaintively, "Why do I always seem to hurt the people I care for the most?" He slowly opened his eyes and T'Pol could see that they now glistened with unshed tears. "You have never harmed anyone," she answered, trying to keep her voice calm and reassuring. "That's a load of crap and you know it," he choked out. "I'm hurtin' you right now. And don't tell me I'm not." "Trip, please…" "I don't know what to do, T'Pol," he said in a strangled voice. "I've tried so hard to shield you from my emotions, but nothin' I do works. I can't concentrate. I can't…" He turned his head away. "I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you anymore. The only way I can protect you is to sever our bond, but we can't do that because of me…because of my feelings for you. I have to do something. I have to make things right." "You are mistaken, Trip." T'Pol raised one hand to his chest, gently placing her palm over his heart. Locking her eyes on his, she said, "We can't sever our bond because of our feelings for each other. It took both of us to create the bond…and to strengthen it. You have no reason to blame yourself." "Don't lie to me, T'Pol." She could feel the misery churning in him as he fought for control. "I'm not blind, ya know. It's been pretty obvious that you and the captain want to be together." He gently pulled her hand away from his chest. "I don't blame you for wantin' to be with someone else. The captain's a great guy. He'll take real good care of you. Just give me a little time and I'll find a way to sever our bond." Refusing to lose contact with him, she clutched at his hand. Somehow she had to make him see reason. "Trip, you are mistaken. I do not wish to sever our bond." Her voice began to rise slightly when his only response was a blank stare. "How I can make that clear to you?" "T'Pol…" Her mind raced as she searched desperately for a way to make him understand. "You took care of me when our daughter died. Do you remember?" Tucker slowly nodded his head. "I was distraught and you stayed with me. I could not have regained control of my emotions without you. You were my salvation, Trip. Let me return the favor. Let me take care of you now. Please." She could feel his resolve begin to weaken. He was too exhausted to fight her for long. "You only hurt me when you fail to take care of yourself. It is true that your emotions are powerful, but because of the help you once gave me, I can handle them. I will be all right. I want you to be all right, too." She loosened her grip and gently ran her thumb across the top of his hand. "If you don't wish to speak with Torok tomorrow then you must seek help elsewhere. It is important for you to discover what lies at the root of your problems. I care for you too much to see you in pain." She reached up to stroke his face, but he intercepted her hand before she could touch him. His eyes locked on hers. She could feel his desperate need for her. Slowly, like the pull of metal to a magnet, he leaned forward. Her lips parted slightly to receive his kiss, but at the last moment he pulled away. Shaking his head, he released her hand and took several steps backward. "There's no denying that I still have strong feelings for ya," Trip said tightly, "but I'm workin' real hard to put all that behind me." When she took a step towards him, he immediately raised both hands, palms forward, to warn her off. "Right now, I want you to stay away from me. No hand holdin'. No big brown eyes. No sweet talk or empty promises." T'Pol felt her heart sink when she saw the determination in his eyes. "I'm tired of bein' manipulated. How many times have you let me think you wanted us to be together only to have you shut me out of your life as soon as I try to get close? I'm not gonna live like that anymore, T'Pol. You have a chance to start over with Captain Archer. I have a chance to make a new life for myself away from Starfleet. It's time we go our separate ways." T'Pol struggled to control her growing uneasiness. She had honestly thought that her words would be enough to convince him of her feelings for him. Obviously, she had been wrong. What more could she say? How could she prove to him that he was an irreplaceable part of her life? "I appreciate that you want to help me," he continued, "but it's not necessary. The captain needs you at the conference with the Vulcans. That's where you should to be tomorrow, not here playin' nursemaid to me." "That is not what I want," she said in a hushed voice. "I do not wish to leave you." He took another step back. "It's the right thing to do." He tried to soften the blow with a smile, but the look in his eyes only confirmed how difficult this was for him. "Go on back to your room and try to meditate. It will make you feel better. I'll see you in the morning before you leave. Good night, T'Pol." She reached for him, but he was already headed back to the Sanctuary and the privacy of his room. Her mind numbly refused to process his parting words. Their relationship couldn't be at an end. She raised a trembling hand and slowly began to massage her temple. She would not allow him go through this hellish experience alone. He needed her, even if he was too stubborn to admit it. There must be something she could say, something she could do to bring him back to her. Realizing that the trembling was becoming more pronounced, she crossed her arms and thrust her hands up the sleeves of her robe. Trip was right. She needed to meditate. She could be of no help to him if she allowed her emotions to spiral out of control. Besides, in meditation, she might be able to find a way to convince him that she was devoted to him alone. Turning her head, she caught a glimpse of the fiery red sun as it slowly sank below the horizon. She had to hurry. Time was running out. * * * * * * T'Pol glanced over her shoulder as she moved quickly down the corridor. Even though the hour was late, she knew, without question, that Trip was still awake. His body was starved for sleep, but the high priest's mind meld had opened the floodgates and the bitter memories continued to spill out, drowning him in grief. Trip had been correct. Several hours of meditation had been very beneficial. She now felt more rested and composed, better able to wrestle with the negative effects of his turbulent emotions. The time spent meditating had also given her the opportunity to review their situation logically and develop a plan of action. This time she would not fail. When she reached his room, she took a moment to collect her thoughts before knocking lightly on his door. Seconds ticked by and she received no response. Just as she was about to knock again, the door opened and she found herself staring into two puffy, bloodshot eyes. "T'Pol?" Trip tilted his head to one side and stared at her. Tension radiated from him, but there was only disbelief in his eyes. "May I come in?" He stood with his body solidly blocking the doorway. "I don't know why I bother talkin'. Nobody listens to me anyway," Trip huffed. "I thought I made it pretty clear when I saw ya earlier today that I want to be left alone." "I am aware of that, but since you suggested that I leave tomorrow, there are some things that I must tell you." "Can't this wait? We can talk in the morning." "No." T'Pol knew that she must stand firm. "It must be now. Please allow me to come in." "T'Pol, I'm in my underwear," Tucker exclaimed in exasperation. "I do not find that upsetting," T'Pol countered. "I have seen you in your underwear before." "I know, but…" This was taking too long. Raising her voice, T'Pol declared, "In point of fact, I have seen you when you were wearing nothing at all." That did it. He quickly stood aside and jerkily motioned her into the dimly lit room. She was secretly pleased to see that he was blushing. When she was safely inside, he stuck his head out into the corridor and anxiously looked around before closing the door. "Are you out of your mind?" he managed to choke out. "What if somebody heard you? These people already think I'm some sort of degenerate." "The priests know that we are bonded," she answered matter-of-factly. "It is to be expected that mates will be intimate with one another." She stood, resplendent in her robes, back rigid and hands clasped firmly behind her. He stared warily at her for few moments and then slowly started to put some distance between the two of them. "I know you're concerned because I'm not asleep, but it isn't necessary." Nearing the center of the room, he noticed the two hyposprays lying on the table. "These are sedatives, right?" She nodded. He grabbed one and held it up for her to see. "This one's marked ‘Human.' I think I'm still lucid enough to figure out that it's the one is meant for me. You don't have to stay." When she made no move to leave, he tapped the hypospray nervously against his palm a couple of times. Finally giving up, he walked over and flopped down on the bed. "Do you want to sleep?" she asked quietly. He shrugged his shoulders. Moving forward a couple of steps, T'Pol quietly called out, "Ha'ge," and suddenly light filled the room. Trip blinked a couple of times as his eye adjusted. "I thought you might be tired of candlelight," she said. "Yeah. Thanks. I was beginning to feel like I was stuck in the Middle Ages." T'Pol was aware that Trip's eyes followed her as she walked around the room extinguishing the candles. "Vulcans find candlelight soothing. If you would prefer some other form of illumination, you must make your feelings known." "I like candlelight, but I guess it was just too much of a good thing. After awhile, it just made me feel…" Trip swallowed and pressed his lips together. "…depressed," T'Pol quietly finished the sentence for him. "Yeah. Depressed." Trip looked down and began to study the well-worn stone floor. "I guess it's no secret that I've been depressed for a long time now. I just didn't want to admit it to myself. Usually I can bounce right back when things get me down. This time nothing I tried worked. I don't know what's wrong with me." Sighing, he scrubbed a hand wearily over his eyes. "But you didn't come here to listen to me feel sorry for myself. What do you want, T'Pol?" As he sat on the bed, shoulders slumped and head bowed, he looked so sad and alone. T'Pol wanted to sit down and comfort him, but she knew that he would not allow it. Not now – not ever – unless she could convince him that she cared for him above all others. She also knew without question that this was her last chance. Lifting her chin, she fired the first shot in the battle for her future. "It has been brought to my attention that we have a problem communicating with one another." Trip's head popped up. She watched with interest as his eyes opened wide. "It is something that I regret," she continued resolutely. "Much of the responsibility for this miscommunication rests with me. I never wanted you to know what I was really thinking…or feeling. From the very beginning, your presence has had an affect on me that I could not explain. I thought it was best to keep that from you. When you confronted me, when you brought up difficult or sensitive subjects, it was easier to talk around them or simply avoid them altogether." "That door swings both ways, T'Pol," Trip countered sadly. "There were a lot of times when I wasn't honest with you either. I'd already struck out three times in relationships and bein' with you meant everything to me. I guess I just didn't want to take a chance on messin' things up. Lookin' back, I guess that wasn't too smart." "I would like to be honest with you now," she said softly but firmly. "I want you to understand why I acted as I did." When she paused, Trip's eyes remained riveted on her. "Go ahead," he said in a hushed voice. T'Pol squared her shoulders. "While we were in the Expanse, I somehow lost myself. I finally came to the realization that I was becoming more…human than Vulcan. Deep down, I placed much of the blame for that change in my life on you and the influence your presence had over me." When she saw him stiffen, she quickly tried to explain. "I know that was unfair. The changes in me were caused by my weakness, my need to get closer to you. "After the Xindi weapon was destroyed and Enterprise returned to Earth, I thought we would finally have some time to ourselves…to see if there was more than a mere physical attraction between us. That is why I asked you to accompany me to Vulcan. Needless to say, things did not work out as I had planned." Trip looked away, but she didn't need to see his face to know that his eyes were once again filled with pain. The memory of her marriage to Koss was still an open sore for both of them. "My marriage was a mistake, but during my stay on Vulcan I realized how much I missed being back among my own people. I had allowed myself to become alienated from a culture that meant a great deal to me. The discovery of the Kir'Shara gave me the tools I needed to find myself again." "And I didn't fit into the picture for the new, improved T'Pol," Trip said huskily. "No," she admitted softly. "Not at that time. But my feelings for you never diminished." "Yeah, right," he muttered and tossed the hypospray on the bed. "After our Elizabeth died, you needed me. Good old Trip, always ready to help a lady in distress. Once you were on the mend though, I became excess baggage again." "No. You are mistaken." Trip ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Being Vulcan is who you are, T'Pol. Don't you know that that was a big part of why I loved you?" Her heart sank when she realized that he had used the past tense. "If I wasn't interested in a relationship with a Vulcan, there were plenty of other women on Enterprise. And most of them were a whole lot more even-tempered than you were. I saw our relationship as a challenge, a partnership that could stimulate and inspire us as we grew older. All I ever wanted from you was a chance. I just wanted you to let me in – to share a little bit of who you are – but you always pushed me away. Okay, you got what you wanted. I quit botherin' you. Now why can't you do the same for me? Get out of my life and leave me alone!" "I have never cherished anyone else," she said in a hushed voice. Dropping his eyes, Trip balled his hands into fists and brought them down hard on the bed. "I really can't take this right now, T'Pol," he said through gritted teeth. "You need to leave." She knew that, under the circumstances, she should not press him, but having found the courage to begin, she couldn't quit now. "I know that you believe that I have strong feelings for the captain…and I do." "Damn you, T'Pol! That's enough!" Irate, Tucker jumped to his feet and took a menacing step towards her, both hands clenched into tight, unyielding fists. He threw one arm up and pointed a rigid finger toward the door. "Get out of here! Now!" T'Pol expression did not change as she stood her ground. He should know by now that Vulcans are not easily intimidated. She would finish what she had to say. "But my feelings are only those of a friend. Captain Archer returns my friendship. There is nothing more between us." Trip dropped his arm and shook his head as though he wanted to drive her words and everything about her from his mind. "Why are you doing this to me? I saw the two of you together. I saw you touch him. Hell, you had your arms wrapped around each other. He came out of your room half dressed in the middle of the night. You…." "It was all an illusion," she broke in before he became even more upset. "We were never romantically involved." It was obvious from the set of his jaw that Trip remained unconvinced. "The captain told me that he cared for someone, but she was already spoken for. That was you." "No," T'Pol countered softly. "He was speaking of Rebecca." "Rebecca?" "She married another man one month before we returned to Earth for the Coalition conference. The captain indicated that she had grown tired of waiting for him to settle down." "He told you that." "Yes." "I'm supposed to be his friend. Why didn't he tell me?" "You would have to ask him that question. If you had come to dinner in the captain's mess on a more regular basis, you would have been privy to our conversation." "When's this chat supposed to have taken place anyway?" "He mentioned it to me three days before you and I discovered that we had a daughter. I would imagine that the opportunity to see you alone never presented itself." "We've talked since then. He's had plenty of chances to tell me." "You should know by now that Captain Archer would do anything to protect you. He knew that you were distressed. Perhaps he chose not to add his sorrow to the grief you already felt." Trip's shoulders drooped and he slumped back down on the bed. "Why would you let me think that you didn't want to be around me? I loved you so much, T'Pol. I just wanted you to care for me a little in return." Why did he keep speaking as though it was over between them? She knew that he still cared for her, and she returned those feelings. Why was he being so stubborn? "I care for you deeply, t'hy'la." She slowly walked over to the bed. Her hand trembled slightly as she gently ran her fingers through his hair. "My affection for you goes far deeper than I ever thought possible." For a moment he closed his eyes, seemingly lost in her touch, but then he jerked his head away and glared up at her. "Then why! You had to know what you were doin' to me!" T'Pol swallowed hard. "I did it for you." "For me? You cut out my heart and stomped on it because you were tryin' to help me!" He started to rise, but she put her hand on his shoulder, staying him. He sat back down, but not before angrily batting her hand away. "Please let me explain." She knelt down in front of him, her robes falling in graceful folds around her. "At first I denied you because of the powerful emotions you stirred in me. My upbringing had not prepared me to deal with anything so intense. But you were patient with me and slowly we grew closer to each other. When our daughter Elizabeth died, I found that I needed you more than ever before. To my great regret, my loss of emotional control took a toll on you physically, and you became ill. Doctor Phlox told me that without remediation, you might die. I could not allow that to happen. I knew you would never let me go, so I was forced to do whatever was necessary to protect you." "So why are you tellin' me about this now?" Trip continued to look unconvinced, but T'Pol was gratified that he at least appeared to be willing to listen. "When I pulled away from you, I could not understand why your health did not improve. Now I realize that there were other things that were weighing on your mind. By abandoning you, I only made the situation worse." She reached over and placed one hand lightly on his knee. "I'm sorry. Please let me make it up to you. Let me help you now." "I don't want your pity, T'Pol," Trip said tightly. "And I don't need your help. I can manage just fine on my own." "I am not asking to help you out of obligation or pity. I am only motivated by my regard for you. Is it so hard to believe that I care for you above all others?" Trip looked at her with a longing that tore at her heart. "I want to believe you, T'Pol. I really do. But I can't. Professionally, I wouldn't hesitate to trust you with my life. But when things get personal…well…I just can't do it anymore." He scrubbed one hand across the back of his neck. "I'm too close to the edge right now. I can't afford to be blindsided by you." "You have my promise," she said sincerely. "I will never hurt you again." "Be honest, T'Pol," Tucker said with a weariness in his voice that was bone deep. "The first time something happens to me or somebody looks down their nose at us, you're gonna turn around and run." T'Pol bristled and instantly looked away. "You think that I'm a coward?" This time it was Trip's turn to be conciliatory. "Of course not. You're just about the bravest person I've ever known." He reached over and lightly touched her chin, turning her face towards him. "Remove those blinders you're wearin' and take a good hard look at us, T'Pol. We can't even carry on a simple conversation without hurtin' each other. You say you want us to be together. I don't believe it. I don't really think you believe it either." T'Pol met and held his gaze. "There is no doubt in my mind that we belong together," she said softly, but with all of the sincerity at her command. "I know that I have failed you in the past. Those mistakes will not be repeated." Reaching into the folds of her robe, she pulled out a padd and handed it to him. "In order for you to begin to trust me again, I know that I must first demonstrate that I have complete trust in you." "What's this?" Trip asked as he looked from the padd to her. "It is my resignation from Starfleet." "Your resignation?" Trip wrinkled his brow in bewilderment. "I don't understand. You've never expressed an interest in leaving Starfleet." "When you are ready to resign, I will go with you. It is for you to decide when the time is right." Trip was clearly stunned. Finally, he pulled himself together and thrust the padd back at her. "I can't take this, T'Pol. It's your decision to make. Your life is your own. Remember that talk we had once about personal choice?" "I remember," she said softly. "It was good advice. I choose to entrust my life to you." Trip placed the padd carefully on the bed beside him and stood up, pulling her along with him. "I'm really flattered, T'Pol, but I can't let you do this. I know how much your career means to you. You belong on Enterprise, not trailin' along after me. You have all the makings of a fine…" She reached up and placed a single finger on his lips. "We would not be content living apart, t'hy'la. You know that, as well as I do. My decision stands." "Thalia." T'Pol was pleased that Trip's voice was growing a bit husky. "What does that mean?" "The word is t'hy'la." T'Pol consciously pitched her voice so that it had a low, intimate tone. "In this context it means beloved or soulmate." "Beloved?" "Yes." Trip's face still had an anguished look, but she could begin to see the glowing sparks of joy and hope in the depths of his eyes. "Are you sure, T'Pol? Because if you're not…" "You have nothing to fear. I have made my decision. I will not change my mind." Time seemed to stand still as Trip studied her face. Finally, he cautiously raised his hand and gently began to caress her cheek. Leaning her face into his touch, T'Pol covered his hand with hers. She could feel the familiar warmth and comfort begin to flow between them once again. Without breaking eye contact, she slid his hand toward her mouth and delicately placed a kiss on his palm. "I can't believe this is happening," Trip whispered. "I've waited…hoped for so long. I'd finally given up. I thought I'd lost you." Gently running her hand around to the nape of his neck, she leaned in closer to him. "I belong to you. There can be no other. If you still doubt, open your mind to me. Then you will know that what I have said is true." "T'Pol," Trip whispered as he brought his lips close to hers. "If you only knew how much I love you." A slight pressure of her hand on the back of his head brought their lips together. He responded immediately, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. The surge of emotions that followed came close to overwhelming her. She knew that he cared for her, but she had underestimated the depth of his passion. Opening her mouth to his insistent demands, they deepened the kiss. There was a sense of urgency that she had never felt before. It was as though a banquet had just been placed before a starving man. When they finally broke apart, Trip looked into her eyes one more time searching for affirmation. Apparently this time he found what he was looking for because he pulled her even closer and buried his face in her neck. In that instant, T'Pol felt as though all of the planets in the universe had suddenly come into perfect alignment. She belonged to him. Nothing would ever keep them apart. She opened her heart and mind to him, taking great pleasure in the joy he felt, but there was still so much pain. He hadn't exaggerated when he'd said that he was close to the edge. Sending soothing thoughts through their bond, she gently began to run one hand up and down his back. He was exhausted. He needed to sleep. "Trip, I would like you to get into bed now," she murmured into his ear. For an instant he froze. Then he jerked his head back and stared at her. The anticipation in his eyes was unmistakable. "Do not jump to conclusions, Mr. Tucker," she said, trying to keep her voice firm. "I want you to go to sleep. What you are contemplating would not be restful." "It might not be restful, but it would sure go a long way toward helpin' me to relax." His blue eyes pleaded hopefully with her. When she did not rebuff him, he slowly began to plant feathery kisses up and down her neck. "It's been awhile. Maybe you forgot how good we are together." Without conscious thought, T'Pol tilted her head slightly to give him better access to her neck. Her memory was excellent. She had no problem remembering what it felt like to be in the throes of passion, her arms and legs wrapped around this gentle, caring man. "This must stop, Mr. Tucker," she murmured breathlessly. Her words fell on deaf ears as he continued to trail kisses up the side of her face, each one sending tiny sparks throughout her central nervous system. Stifling a groan, she whispered, "Trip…my Trip." When he finally reached the pointed tip of one ear, she clutched at him, arching her back in sheer ecstasy. Through a haze of pleasure, a tiny portion of her brain warned that this had to stop. He was in a fragile state. She couldn't afford to let her body overrule her common sense. Forcefully, his lips once again claimed her mouth as his hands slipped beneath her robes looking for a way to loosen her clothing. She halfheartedly squirmed in his grasp, fighting against her need to join with him. She had to be strong for both of them. She had to…ooohh. The moment she felt his hand squeeze her left breast, all rational thought deserted her. Closing her eyes, she gasped and pressed her body against his, matching his arousal with her desire. Hungrily their lips met again, tongues dueling in the timeless quest for physical pleasure. Suddenly, she felt Trip's body tense. Before she could adjust to his change of mood, his fingers dug into her back, and he buried his head in her shoulder. "Trip, what is it?" T'Pol pulled back slightly and brushed her hand over the side of his face. "Tell me what is wrong?" "Please, no," he whispered in a grief-stricken voice. "Trip, look at me." When he failed to respond, she continued to stroke the back of his head. "Everything will be all right," she murmured soothingly. "You have nothing to fear." After several minutes, he relaxed his hold on her. "Trip, please tell me what is wrong." He straightened slightly and she once again ran her hand over the side of his face. "Should I send for the doctor?" He pulled away from her and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "I don't need the doctor. I guess it must have been some sort of flashback. I was back on Enterprise…in engineering. There were explosions. People dead…dyin'. Somebody's back was on fire. I tried…to put it out, but…" "Has this happened before?" "No." T'Pol took hold of his arm to steady him. "Sit down." "Why did this have to happen now?" he asked dejectedly. "I want to make love to you." "This is not the time," she said softly. "T'Pol, please…" "No." She knew she had to be firm. "When we mate, I want to possess all of you – your mind as well as your body. Right now, that is not possible. You cannot make love to me and struggle with your memories at the same time. You know that what I say is true." When she saw the look of acceptance in his eyes, she placed her hands on his chest and gently shoved just hard enough so that he lost his balance and sat back down on the bed. "We will be together soon. I promise to make it worth the wait." She leaned over and picked up the padd and the hypospray. After placing a kiss on his forehead, she motioned for him to get under the covers. She was surprised when she saw a cloud pass over his features. "Thanks all the same," he murmured, "but I really don't want to go to sleep." "Trip, you know you must rest," she said, a frown lightly creasing her brow. He shook his head and looked away from her. "There are too many dreams." Once again, she allowed her fingers to brush lightly through his hair. "I understand. In the past, neuropressure has allowed you to sleep undisturbed. Why don't we try that? I will remain here. If you are awakened by a dream, you will not be alone. Would that help?" Trip looked up at her and she could tell that she had already eased his mind. "Yeah, it might." T'Pol caressed the side of his face, gently brushing her thumb over his cheek. "Good. Now please get into bed. Face down." Noticing the padd in her hand, she quickly deposited it under his pillow. She walked to the center of the room and placed the hypospray on the table next to its counterpart. "I don't believe either one of us will require a sedative tonight." While she removed her robes and gown, Trip pushed the covers aside and crawled into bed. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as he snaked one hand under the pillow and pulled out the padd. He stared at it for a moment, a mixture of joy and disbelief in his eyes, before thrusting it back under the pillow. Now dressed only in the one-piece translucent white undergarment that hugged her body from neck to ankle, T'Pol walked to the bed and climbed over him, straddling his hips. As she worked the neural nodes around his neck, shoulders, and upper back, she found that she had to press harder than she would normally. His muscles were knotted by tension and stress. Slowly as she pressed, she could feel him begin to relax. Trip sighed contentedly. "That's nice. I guess I should return the favor." "That will not be necessary," T'Pol responded in a warm voice. "Once you are asleep, I believe that I will be able to sleep as well." When she felt him move under her, she leaned slightly forward to catch his eye. "I'm getting' pretty drowsy. Why don't you come to bed, t'hy'la?" He looked up at her expectantly. "Is that right?" "That is correct." She caressed his smooth, muscular shoulders proprietarily and then slowly slid her hands down the full length of his back to his waist. No matter how many moments like this they had together, she knew she would never grow tired of touching him. When he shifted again, she crawled off of him. He slid over and raised the covers. "Sayonotau," she said quietly and the room went dark. Accepting his invitation, she lay down beside him. Trip pulled the covers over them as she snuggled close, her back pressed up against his chest. When they were settled, she felt one of his hands travel from the hollow at her waist up along the swell of her hip. Nuzzling his face into her hair, he whispered, "I love you, T'Pol." His breath was warm against her ear, sending a tingling sensation down her spine. "I will care for you always, ashayam." He lightly kissed her shoulder. "Another new word?" "We will discuss it in the morning. Now that we are together, you will have much to learn." "How come you never used Vulcan words when we were together back on Enterprise?" "The time never seemed to be right." T'Pol shifted slightly, searching for a more comfortable position. "I no longer have any misgivings. If we are to live together as mates, we must learn to share." Trip wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. "Good night, darlin'," he murmured happily. T'Pol could feel him relax, body and mind, and knew that he would soon be sound asleep. Surprisingly, she, too, began to feel drowsy. It had been a difficult day, and there was no sedative in the world as effective as the feel of his arms about her. She breathed in deeply, taking in his scent, and then closed her eyes. Slowly, two bodies in perfect harmony drifted off to sleep. * * * * * * "NO!" T'Pol's eyes snapped open when she heard Trip cry out. By the light of a single candle, she rose from her meditation position and hurried across the room. "Vince!" Trip sat bolt upright, his body bathed in sweat. "Where are you?" T'Pol sat down on the bed next to him and grabbed his arms. She was distressed to feel his body trembling beneath her fingers. "Ha'ge!" she shouted and the lights came on. He blinked terror-filled eyes a couple of times and tried to pull away from her. "Wake up, Trip," she said forcefully. Even though he no longer appeared to be asleep, it was obvious that he was still hopelessly trapped in his nightmare. "I've…gotta find him!" Trip shouted, gulping frantically to take in air. "He'll drown! Have ta…find him!" Trip started to get up, but T'Pol immediately pushed him back down and shook him violently. "Trip, wake up!" His eyes flew around the room, desperately searching for his friend. With one hand, she grabbed his chin in a vise-like grip, forcing him to look at her, while the fingers of her other hand pinched the skin on his upper arm. "You must wake up now!" She watched anxiously as he tried to fight his way back to the real world. Finally, he took a deep, shuddering breath and his eyes slowly focused on her. "T'Pol?" he whispered. "Yes." Loosening her grip, she moved her hand up to gently stroke his face. "Where am I?" He looked around bewilderedly. "You are on Vulcan," she said in a calm, soothing voice. "You are here at the Sanctuary on Mount Seleya to speak with the high priest." Rubbing a trembling hand over his eyes, she could tell that he was struggling to make sense of things. "I thought Vince…" "It was only a dream." She lightly stroked her fingers over his forehead. "You must let it go." When his face crumpled into a look of pure anguish, she put her arms around his neck and pulled him close. He clung to her with a desperation that she found disturbing. "How can it be a dream?" he asked disconsolately. "It was so real. I could feel the water." "Everything will be all right." "What's the matter with me? I must be losing my mind." She pulled back and took his face in her hands. "Nightmares are unpleasant, but they cannot hurt you. You are not in danger of losing your sanity. You must believe that." When he nodded his head she pulled him close again. Turning his face in toward her neck, he murmured, "I can't take much more of this, T'Pol. What am I gonna do?" As she held him, she wished that she had an answer to his question. Neuropressure should have given him an undisturbed night's sleep, but it had not. This was the third time that he had been awakened by a nightmare since they lay down together. Each time it was harder for her to awaken him. Each time it was harder for him to separate dream from reality. She knew little about mind melds, but Trip's reaction to the meld with Torok seemed to be all wrong. The memories it evoked were too vivid and lingered far too long. She decided to try to gain an audience with the high priest as soon as possible. "Lay back, Trip." She could feel him shake his head. "I don't want to sleep anymore." "I know. I believe that neuropressure will help you relax." He was quiet for a moment before finally mumbling, "Okay." When he loosened his grip on her, she gently pushed him back down on the bed. She was still dressed only in her one-piece undergarment, so she had no difficulty throwing one leg over his body, straddling his waist. Leaning forward, she pressed down firmly on the pressure points just above his collarbones. "You are not breathing correctly. You know the proper technique." "Yes, ma'am," Trip responded dutifully. T'Pol was gratified to see a hint of a smile cross his lips. "That is better." Just as she began to focus her attention on the pressure points behind his ears, there was a sharp rap at the door. Her eyes met and held Trip's for a moment, and then she climbed off the bed and walked across the room. When the door swished open, a female attendant stood before her bearing a tray of food. T'Pol took the tray and carried it over to the table. Scooping up their soiled outer garments, she carried them back to the door and handed them to the thin-faced young woman with the earnest brown eyes. With a nod of her head, the attendant turned and disappeared from sight. When the door closed and they were alone again, Trip rolled on his side and, raising his upper body, rested his weight on his left forearm. "I guess it's later than I thought," he said, casting his eyes around the windowless room. "What time is it anyway?" "It is 0430." He scrunched up his face in thought. "We're the guests here. Shouldn't we be the ones fixin' breakfast?" Gratified that he was trying to understand the customs of her people, T'Pol clarified, "That rule does not apply in this instance. It is only necessary to fix breakfast for your hosts when you are in a private residence." When T'Pol finished removing the covers from the serving dishes, she looked over at her mate. He had pushed the covers aside and was now sitting on the edge of the bed, head bowed and hands clasped firmly in front of him. She reached out to him with her mind and was disturbed by the growing sense of hopelessness she found there. "Come and eat," she said quietly. Reluctantly, Trip got to his feet and walked over to the table. He held the chair for T'Pol while she seated herself, and then walked over and plopped down on the chair opposite her. He looked at the food on the tray, but showed little interest in any of it. "I believe you are familiar with everything here," she said in an effort to divert his attention away from his dream. "These are some traditional foods for asal-yem or breakfast. Kap, pla-savas, and tei." She pointed to a plate of light brown bread made from coarse-ground flour, a square ceramic bowl filled with slices of dark blue fruit and two steaming cups of tea. "These foods have served as sustenance for my people since the early days of our civilization." When Trip failed to respond, she picked up a glass of blue-green fruit juice and tapped his hand with it until he took it from her. "Drink this. You told me that you enjoyed the juice of the kaasa when you visited my mother's home." Tilting his head back, he quickly drained the glass. Judging by the distant look in his eyes, she doubted that he had even tasted it. "Would you like some more?" Trip shook his head. "Sorry I'm not better company this morning," he said wearily, handing the glass back to her. "I'm just not hungry. Why don't you go ahead? It always makes me feel good to watch you eat." Sighing, she put a piece of bread and a few pieces of fruit on a small plate and, reaching across the table, placed it in front of him. "Perhaps you will change your mind." While T'Pol ate, she watched as Trip picked at the food on his plate. Finally she asked, "Would you prefer something else to eat?" "Hmmm?" "Trip." She waited until she knew his attention was focused on her. "You must eat. Can I get you something else that will be more to your liking?" "No," he mumbled distractedly as his eyes slid away from her. "This is fine." Accepting defeat, she finished her own meal. After swallowing the last bite of bread, she asked, "Who is Vince?" When Trip looked at her, the sadness in his eyes was shattering. "He was my friend…my best friend. He drowned while we were out swimmin' together." "I am sorry. How old were you?" "Seventeen." He got a distant look in his eye. "Old enough to rescue someone, if I'd been payin' attention." Without further comment, she rose and walked over to the door. Upon opening it, she found a pile of clean clothing and a Starfleet duffle bag stacked on a cart outside the door. She collected the items and deposited them on the bed. Looking over her shoulder, she said, "Captain Archer sent down a change of clothes for us." "Okay," Tucker responded wearily. Opening the duffle bag, she quickly located clean undergarments for herself. Pulling a gown from the pile of clean clothing, she announced, "I am going to take a shower. Perhaps you should consider getting cleaned up as well." When he failed to respond, she turned to look at him. He sat unmoving with his eyes fixed on his plate of uneaten food. It was obvious that the nightmares had taken a greater toll on him than she had realized. She took one more look at the broken man she cared for so deeply and headed for the bathroom. After a shower and a change of clothes, she felt refreshed. She was under no illusions that the day would be pleasant. Torok had told her as much. But now, thanks to the shower, several nighttime hours spent in meditation, and the comforting place that Trip once again occupied in her mind, she felt that she was prepared to meet whatever challenges the day might bring. Opening the bathroom door, her eyes immediately fell on her mate. He hadn't moved from his seat, but she was pleased to see that he had eaten some of the food on his plate. Perhaps this was an indication that he was finally beginning to cast off the pall that had enveloped him since he'd awakened. Apparently sensing her eyes on him, he looked up. "The bread's not bad, but this fruit is real good. What's it called again?" "Pla-savas." "Right, pla-savas. Maybe we could get Chef to keep some of it in stasis for us when we head back to Enterprise?" "I think that could be arranged." He took in the sage green gown she was wearing. "That color looks real nice on you." He gestured vaguely with one hand. "Kinda soft and feminine." Relieved, she took a deep breath. That was more like her Trip. "Why don't you get cleaned up now? Torok may wish to see you this morning. You should be ready." "Yeah, I guess so." He slowly pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. She handed him a clean set of underwear from the duffle bag as he passed her on his way to the bathroom. After a couple of steps, he stopped and turned back to her. "Is there something else you require?" T'Pol asked. "Yeah, I guess there is." She turned to face him. "I just wanted to say good morning, tell you how much I love you and give you this." Leaning forward, he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "Thanks for stayin' with me last night," he whispered sincerely, his lips still enticingly close to hers, "and for bein' here this morning when I needed you." "You are welcome," she answered softly and was gifted with a gentle southern smile. Giving him a quick peck on the lips, she gently but firmly pushed him towards the bathroom. "Now go wash." When she heard the door close behind him, she marveled again at how different he was from a Vulcan male – how different he was from any man she had ever known. Her mind drifted back to the day when she'd first set foot on the starship filled with smelly, emotional humans and made the acquaintance of Commander Charles Tucker III. She had been rude to him – at least by human standards – but there was something, a spark she had never felt before or since with another living being. It was disconcerting and she had run from it. Now she knew better. Silently, she reaffirmed her pledge never to turn her back on him again. While Trip showered, she put on her robes and laid out a clean suit and robes for him. With the completion of her task, she took a few moments for herself, allowing her fingers to play lightly over the fabric of the suit. Slowly her thoughts turned to her father, the rock that had anchored the early years of her life. From the very beginning, her father had appreciated her curious, agile mind. At night, they often shared time together staring up at the sky, discussing distant celestial bodies and carefully considering the secrets that each might hold. When he was not busy attending to his duties with the Vulcan Diplomatic Corps, her father challenged her by giving her interesting problems to solve. In doing so, he taught her to use her creativity, to be organized and thorough, and, on occasion, to contemplate ideas that were not universally accepted, even though this often went against her mother's wishes. He'd understood that it was a struggle for her to keep her emotions rigidly under control, and yet he had not reproached her. Instead, he'd spent countless hours with her, teaching her how to meditate, honing her skills. Reflecting back, she realized that when he died, she'd lost more than just a father. She'd lost the only person who had ever truly understood and treasured her…until now. When Trip entered her life, he challenged her to see the wonders all around her, much as her father had. He asked her to look beyond the stuffy explanations of uninspired men to consider the countless possibilities yet to be explored. He did not scold her when her control weakened, but was instead understanding and eager to help in any way he could. He was patient with her. He was her staunchest supporter. And he loved her unconditionally even when she gave him every reason to turn away. For these reasons and countless more, she chose to honor Trip by granting him a special niche in her heart right next to the place she reverently reserved for her father. A knock on the door brought her out of her reverie. Thinking it was the attendant come to collect the breakfast dishes, she picked the tray up and headed toward the door. When the door slid open, she was momentarily taken aback to see Ambassador Soval standing before her. "T'Pol, I need to speak with you." His eyes scanned the room behind her. "Where is Commander Tucker?" "He is in the bathroom." Soval nodded. "Perhaps it is just as well." "Is something wrong? Is there a problem with the conference?" He took the tray from her and set it on the empty cart outside the door. "I would like you to come with me. There is a situation that requires…" Before he could explain further, the bathroom door opened and Trip emerged in a clean set of Starfleet-issue underwear. He was vigorously rubbing a towel over his wet hair. As soon as he saw Soval, he came to abrupt halt. "Mornin', Ambassador." A concerned look passed over his face. It was obvious that he was uncertain what to make of Soval's presence. "Commander, I hope you are feeling better today." "Thanks, I'm fine." Trip tossed the damp towel on the bed and looked from one Vulcan face to the other. "Is there somethin' goin' on that I oughta know about?" "Ambassador Soval wishes to speak with me," T'Pol said reassuringly. "I will return shortly." Trip regarded them warily, but didn't offer any resistance. "Okay. I'll be here if you need me." He glanced down at the clothes laid out on the bed and did a double take. "Where's my uniform?" "There was only underwear in the bag," T'Pol answered truthfully. "It would seem that the person who packed it forgot to include a clean uniform." "Not likely." Trip scowled as he looked Soval up and down. The ambassador was wearing a floor-length belted beige tunic under his sienna robes. "At least my getup has pants," Tucker grumbled. "I guess I should be thankful for small favors." "Please get dressed," T'Pol said calmly. "I will return in a few minutes and we can spend some time in meditation." Without waiting for a response, she turned toward the door. Stepping aside, Soval motioned for her to precede him. "I take it that Commander Tucker is still not completely comfortable in Vulcan clothing," Soval observed as they walked down the corridor. "The adjustment has been trying for him, but he is making progress." "You two seem to have resolved your differences." "We no longer wish to sever our bond." T'Pol looked over at the ambassador. "Why did you wish to see me?" "Admiral Kiran is here." T'Pol came to an abrupt halt. She carefully schooled her features to appear calm, but inside, her emotions were in turmoil. "What does he want?" Soval stopped and turned to face her. "He knows that you and Commander Tucker are here…together. He wants to know why. I do not believe he intends to leave until he is convinced that he knows the truth." "And then what?" "You know the threats he has made. The man is capable of anything." T'Pol pressed her lips into a thin line as she struggled to find a way out of this new dilemma. Try as she might she could think of no quick or easy solution. "I care for Commander Tucker," she finally said with a trace of huskiness in her voice. "I will not abandon him again." "I am not suggesting that you should." "But the conference with the humans is vital to the long-term safety of our people. I cannot allow the admiral to place Vulcan's future in jeopardy because of us." She looked entreatingly at Soval. "What should I do?" "For the moment, do nothing." He started forward again, and she followed along. "Let's hear what the admiral has to say. There is always a chance that he will listen to reason." T'Pol did not answer because there was nothing she could say. She knew the odds were against them. She had met Admiral Kiran several times in the past, and she had not been impressed. He was a man who prided himself on his grasp of logic even though there was often nothing logical in the ideas he espoused. He appeared to be incapable of seeing the needs of the many, only his own petty wants and desires. What chance did she and Trip have against a man like that? As they approached the man reception room, one voice rose above the others and there was an edge to it that did not inspire confidence. Apparently the admiral was in a confrontational frame of mind this morning. T'Pol hung back, but when Soval reached the doorway, he stepped aside and motioned for her to enter first. Since it was pointless to try and avoid the inevitable, she lifted her chin and sailed into the room. The main reception room was furnished with carved obsidian appointments, including six angular benches which lined the walls and a large oval table with eight matching high-backed chairs which stood at the center of the room. Overhead, a natural fissure in the stone allowed light to flood the room, tingeing the walls and polished stone floor with a citrine hue. A wide hand-carved band of ancient Vulcan symbols ringed the room four feet from the base of the walls. In many places, the ancient chisel marks were still visible on the walls, a silent tribute to the Vulcan workmen who had, countless centuries ago, carved the Sanctuary from the rocks and caverns of Mount Seleya. The first face T'Pol saw was Torok's, with its hawkish nose and well-defined cheek bones. The elderly man was seated at the head of the oval table. Their eyes met, and in that instant she was sure that he would help her. "Sub-Commander T'Pol." The authoritative voice brought her up short. Thankful for Soval's steadying presence beside her, she looked to the right of the table and saw Admiral Kiran standing next to a petite Vulcan woman with short black hair. With his steel grey hair and broad shoulders, there was no question that the admiral was an imposing figure. He was tall, with the puffed out chest and rigid stance of a man who was fully aware of his own importance. It was his misfortune that his carefully groomed features spoke more of self-indulgence than strength of character. Straightening her shoulders, T'Pol stated firmly, "Admiral, you were present yesterday when the delegation from Starfleet was introduced. You know that my correct title is commander. I would appreciate being addressed properly." "Commander T'Pol," Kiran responded derisively. His pinched features clearly showed his disapproval. "You dare to show your face here at the Sanctuary. Have you no shame? Once again you have deserted your own people." "You are mistaken, Admiral," T'Pol contradicted him in a carefully controlled voice. "I have never turned my back on Vulcan or her people. I take great pride in my heritage." "A Vulcan does not belong in Starfleet. You have debased yourself by choosing to live among humans." He spat out the last word as though it was an obscenity. "If you will recall, Admiral, I was ordered to serve on Enterprise by the High Command." "The High Command did not order you to remain on Enterprise when the humans went into the Expanse," Kiran answered icily. "That was your decision. In doing so, you turned your back on your family and your culture." "The Xindi and the Sphere Builders posed a threat to Vulcan as well as to Earth. By going into the Expanse, I was protecting my family and my culture." T'Pol quickly glanced over at Torok who gave her an almost imperceptible nod of encouragement. Despite his outer appearance of calm, the admiral's face was becoming slightly flushed. "The Vulcan fleet and the High Command did not see the Xindis as a threat. The Andorians are our enemies, and you allowed them access to classified information at the P'Jem Monastery. That, Commander, is betrayal. That is treason." "Our covert surveillance station at the monastery was there in violation of our treaty with the Andorians. We were in the wrong, not the Andorians or the humans." T'Pol took several steps forward and locked eyes with the admiral. "It is illogical to dredge up the past for no useful purpose. It is also illogical to wait one full day to express your dissatisfaction with my affiliation with Starfleet. Something else is bothering you, Admiral. What is it?" "That is very perceptive of you, Commander T'Pol. You are quite correct." Kiran motioned towards the woman standing next to him. "Minister T'Lan and I have come to investigate reports of another in a long series of acts of misconduct on your part. This time it is an act of the grossest perversion." T'Pol steeled herself for the storm she knew was about to come crashing down on her. "Word has come to us that you are consorting with a human. We demand to know if this allegation is true." Soval shifted restlessly beside her. "Admiral Kiran," he said in a measured voice, "your behavior is most unseemly. I suggest that you…" "Stay out of this, Soval," Kiran snapped. "This matter does not concern you." "Nor does it concern you, Admiral," Torok added calmly. "Commander T'Pol does not have to answer to you. Nor does she have to reveal details of her personal life. Your questions are not only inappropriate but distasteful." The admiral walked over to the table and stood gripping the back of one of the chairs. Towering over the seated Torok, he looked disdainfully down at him. "As high priest, you are the guardian of our culture, and yet you shelter this woman who has wantonly produced a child with a human." "That child was not of her body," Torok replied. "It was a cruel act perpetrated by terrorists." "It was her child nonetheless. Ask her. She will not deny it." Kiran turned to face T'Pol, pointing a finger at her. "Will you deny that half-breed child was yours? Will you deny that you are at present sharing a room with…" "That half-breed child's name was Elizabeth." T'Pol spun around and saw Trip standing rigidly in the doorway. Sensing his anger, she moved quickly to intercept him. "What are you doing here?" she whispered upon reaching him. His gaze remained locked on Kiran. "You were putting out some pretty strong vibes. I knew that something was upsetting you." He gestured with his chin. "I take it that something is the admiral. You should have told me when Soval came to get you. It's pretty obvious that this concerns me just as much as it does you." Moving slightly so that her body screened her actions from the others in the room, she raised her hand and lightly placed it on Trip's chest. "Please let me handle this. There is much at stake here, and you are already under a great deal of stress." "I don't understand. What seems to be the problem?" "The admiral is distressed that we are here together." She hesitated and then decided to continue. Her mate had a right to know the gravity of the situation. "He is threatening to call a halt to the joint talks with Starfleet." "Because of us?" Trip looked at her in utter disbelief. "That's crazy." "Keep your voice down." T'Pol cast a quick look over her left shoulder. "If you will return to our room, I will join you as soon as I can. Please, Trip, do this for me." When he brought his hand up to cover hers, she looked for acquiescence in his eyes. What she saw instead was only grim determination. "Will you join us, Commander Tucker?" Torok called from across the room. T'Pol closed her eyes and sighed in defeat. It was obvious that Trip had every intention of taking Torok up on his invitation. Why did the high priest have to interfere? She knew that she could have persuaded Trip to leave if she had only been given a little more time. Apparently sensing her unease, Trip murmured, "It'll be all right, T'Pol. I promise to behave myself." Without another word, he cupped his right hand inconspicuously under her left elbow and led her into the chamber. Trip stopped next to Soval and, after giving him a quick nod of recognition, raised his left hand with the middle and ring fingers forming a V. "Live long and prosper." "Peace and long life." Torok finished the traditional greeting when it became apparent that his other Vulcan guests intended to remain silent. "It is good to see you, Commander Tucker. I believe you have already met Admiral Kiran and Minister T'Lan." "Admiral. Minister." Trip nodded in recognition. "Where is this man's uniform?" Kiran asked with enough chill in his voice to freeze a river. "He has no right to wear Vulcan robes." "I requested that Commander Tucker wear Vulcan attire while he visited the Sanctuary," Torok said, clearly tiring of the admiral's bullying tactics. "Why is he here? Since he stayed overnight, he is obviously more than just a casual tourist. What business could a human have at one of our most sacred shrines?" Torok looked over at Trip. "With all due respect, Admiral," Trip said firmly, "I don't think that's any of your business." "I know how important this conference is to the humans. You would not be here unless you felt the need was urgent." Kiran's gaze traveled from Trip to T'Pol. "You may wish to keep your improprieties a secret, Commander Tucker, but if this woman has allowed you to use her body to satisfy your carnal desires, I think it is our business." T'Pol grabbed Trip's arm as he took a step forward, his eyes flashing in anger. Before Tucker could respond to the admiral's insults, Torok thumped his cane forcefully against the floor. Ignoring the warning, Trip continued to glare at Kiran. When Torok brought his cane down once again, Trip spun around and fixed his eyes squarely on the high priest. No words were exchanged, but judging by the stern look on Torok's face, T'Pol was sure that Trip got the message: any emotional outbursts were unacceptable. Pressing his lips together, Trip took several deep breaths. After a few moments he gave Torok a brisk nod and turned his attention back to the two inquisitors. "You can say anything you want about me, Admiral," Trip said in a tightly controlled voice, "but I ask that you treat Commander T'Pol with respect. She's a lady and deserves to be treated as such." In the silence of the moment, T'Pol noticed that T'Lan was looking at Tucker a little more carefully. There was a shrewd gleam in her eye that T'Pol had not seen before. The two men stood with their eyes locked on one another. Finally Admiral Kiran cleared his throat and looked away. "Is this really the type of creature you want, T'Pol?" Kiran said, motioning toward Tucker. "A human who is incapable of controlling himself? It is no wonder that Koss chose to end his marriage to you." Trip's eyes bored into the admiral, but he didn't rise to the bait a second time. Given the situation, T'Pol saw no reason to comment on Koss or her ill-fated marriage. That was in the past. Her only thoughts now centered on her need to protect Trip. "Commander Tucker's reasons for visiting the Sanctuary are personal," she said firmly. "Torok has graciously consented to speak with him. There is nothing more that needs to be said." For the first time, Minister T'Lan entered the conversation. A petite woman of middle years, she had a delicate heart-shaped face with straight black hair set against porcelain skin. Her eyes and mouth were small and her nose turned up pixie-like at the end, but there was nothing in her demeanor that hinted at fragility or weakness of any kind. She was clearly a woman of great intelligence and resolve. Under other circumstances, T'Pol imagined that Trip might have found her attractive…but not today. "I appreciate your desire for privacy, Commander T'Pol," T'Lan said in a soft, high-pitched voice, "but you must understand that any report of a bond between a Vulcan and a human must be taken seriously." "A bond, ma'am?" Trip asked innocently. Turning her attention to Tucker, she replied, "Your departure from the conference was unexpected, Commander. When you did not return inquiries were made. We were told that you and T'Pol journeyed here to sever your bond." T'Lan tilted her head to one side. "Do you deny it?" "I am staying here to try to resolve some personal problems that have been bothering me for a long time, ma'am," Trip said patiently. "Ambassador Soval suggested that Torok might be able to help me." "That is a lie," Kiran stated assuredly. "Humans do not come to Vulcans for help. It is pointless for you to try and conceal your transgressions. We will question the priests and priestesses, Commander. They will tell us the truth if you refuse to answer." "You will not." Torok glared at the admiral. "This is a sacred place. Words spoken here are said in confidence. Is that understood?" When Kiran failed to respond, T'Lan said smoothly, "We will not have to question anyone. It is obvious that these two are bonded." She motioned toward Trip. "Commander Tucker came to this chamber because he perceived that his mate was in jeopardy. There is no point in denying it." "I don't have to deny it," Trip replied bluntly. "I'm under no obligation to respond to your accusations. But regardless of what is or isn't true, I don't understand why you regard me as a threat." He looked over at T'Pol who stood quietly beside him. "Commander T'Pol and I only want what is best for both our peoples. That's why we look forward to participating in the strategic talks when Ambassador V'Lar arrives day after tomorrow." Slowly, T'Lan walked forward, hands hidden within her sleeves. She stopped when she was within a yard of Tucker and looked up at him. "Humans are weaker, less advanced and live much shorter lives than Vulcans. For our safety and security, we must remain strong. We must keep our race pure. Surely, in light of the threat posed by the Andorians, you can see the logic of our position, Commander." For a split second T'Pol saw the pain in Trip's eyes, but then it vanished. She hoped that it had gone unnoticed by T'Lan. They had to be careful not to display any weaknesses that could be exploited. "I know that we can't match your strength or longevity," Trip said quietly, "but humans just might have some other positive attributes. You might want to think on that for awhile, ma'am." "Your supposition is flawed, Mr. Tucker." T'Lan continued to press her point. "It is a fact that your child barely lived for six months. Surely you can understand why we would not look favorably on any union between a human and a Vulcan." T'Pol knew that T'Lan's blow had been telling for both her and Trip. Nevertheless, she felt a sense of pride that he had showed no emotion, even though she knew that the mention of Elizabeth's death was tearing him apart inside. Steeling herself, T'Pol countered, "You cannot use Elizabeth as a true measure. The terrorists who created our child included a flaw in her genetic code, ensuring that she would not survive infancy. No one knows what the true strengths or weaknesses of a child born to a Vulcan and human couple might be." For one irrational moment T'Pol considered telling them about Lorian, but she quickly realized that she treasured the memory of her son far too much to share it with these narrow-minded people. He clearly combined the best traits of both of his parents. At that moment, she felt Trip's hand brush against hers, and she knew instantly that he, too, was thinking about the son they had known for such a brief time. "Our child," Admiral Kiran huffed contemptuously. "That creature was a crime against nature." The admiral left the table and bore down on Trip and T'Pol. Soval tried to intercept him, but Kiran stiffly motioned him away. "You do not need to offer any explanations, T'Lan. Humans are a lower life form. Perhaps at some time in the distant future, when they have learned reason and discipline, we might look upon them with more favor, but I seriously doubt that day will ever come. We cannot allow our race to be infected by their emotionalism. We, as a people, have worked too hard to distance ourselves from the savages that once roamed this planet." Trip continued to hold his head up, but T'Pol could feel his weariness and disillusionment. They'd been through this all before, and somehow it never got any easier. Whether the words came from Vulcans or humans, they wounded with equal force. She and Trip weren't criminals. They weren't trying to alter cultures or bring down governments. They were just two people trying to find a way to live together in peace. Suddenly, in her mind she heard his voice as clearly as if he had spoken aloud. "I'm sorry for this, T'Pol, but I not sorry for lovin' you. There must be somewhere we can go and make a life for ourselves." Unaware of the couple's unspoken thoughts, Kiran continued his attack. "The possibility of a half human child would deliver us back to the days of violence before Vulcans embraced logic. We cannot allow that. I will do everything in my power to see that no Vulcan – man or woman – threatens the future of our species by joining with a barbarian." "Those are strong words, Admiral," T'Lan said, her eyes riveted on the pale face of Commander Tucker, "but what if the deed is already done?" |
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