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"Calm Before the Storm" by Lady Rainbow Rating: PG-13 I had to repost this story, but thanks to some helpful ideas from Ladyhawke Legend and Begoogled, I think I’ve improved on it a little. I expanded on the Vulcan aspect, and re-introduced a familiar face. There’s a bit of implied TnT implied here in Ch. 1, and T’Pol has a dilemma that she will need Trip’s help with in the future. Thanks, Pesterfield, for the second edit:) One May 2, 2155 Shi’Kahr Vulcan High Minister V’Lar sat at the head of the table, with Doctor T’Les, Security Minister T’Pau, Doctor T’Vau, and Ambassador Soval seated next to her. On the other side of the table were Ensign T’Pol and Doctor Malcolm Reed. None of the Vulcans looked at each other as V’Lar finished reading the copy of the reports of Enterprise’s last mission, yet Malcolm saw the deep wrinkles around Soval’s eyes, the dark circles under T’Les’s and the flinty steel in T’Pau’s jaw. “Fascinating.” Malcolm met V’Lar’s gaze without flinching, although his stomach tightened in dread. Could V’Lar read his mind, despite all of his efforts to shield his conflicting emotions? “Your report has...interesting possibilities,” V’Lar said to him. Her mouth tightened as she steepled her fingers. “It appears that these ‘Romulans’ employ the Suliban to do their spying and their more distasteful endeavors.” Soval leaned forward on his elbows and asked, “You did not see a Romulan without his armor?” Malcolm shook his head and turned toward him. “No, Del’haiu,” he answered, using the word in Soval’s dialect for “Elder”. “I only saw a Suliban without his helmet. The Romulans took great pains to hide their identity from prying eyes.” T’Pau nodded and added, “They installed explosives within their armor, set to incinerate anyone and anything in their path, in the case of capture.” “Yes. They tried to set explosives on Enterprise, but we were able to beam them off just in time.” Malcolm kept his face serene, even as his impatience rose. They had been over and over these details numerous times, but V’Lar hadn’t dismissed the Circle for a single break. He’d had fruit and saya for morning meal, and it was already late afternoon. “They are determined to hide their true selves,” T’Pol remarked, “almost to the point of paranoia.” T’Les glanced at her daughter. “T’Pol, do you believe that the V’tosh ka’tur and the I’Rhiamanau are the direct ancestors of these Romulans?” T’Pol wasn’t expecting such a blunt question; Malcolm saw her look of surprise before she controlled it. She chose her words carefully as she answered, “The data seem to support that theory, but that is just a theory. Since Doctor Reed, Captain Hayes or Lieutenant Commander Tucker did not see a Romulan, it cannot be proven at this time.” “That is true, Daughter, but I asked whether or not you believe such a thing. You did not answer the question.” T’Pol’s voice was steady as she said, “I refuse to base my beliefs on mere speculation, Mother.” T’Les nodded in approval. She looked at V’Lar, who seemed in agreement. “Very well. You both have endured quite an experience; you must rest now. Doctor Reed, when will you return to Earth?” He shook his head. “Not for another three days. I wish to consult Doctor T’Vau on a medical matter at the Academy before reporting back to San Francisco.” V’Lar raised an eyebrow at his answer. “Three days? What medical matter supercedes the marriage of Captains Sato and Hayes?” “It is...a personal matter.” Malcolm set his jaw stubbornly and gazed at her, as if daring another protest. Would she breach the Vulcan tradition of privacy to know his business? The High Minister only returned the intense gaze, as if trying to divine his thoughts. Finally, she accepted the fact that Malcolm wouldn’t elaborate on this “personal matter”. Malcolm watched Soval out of the corner of his eye and thought he saw a glimmer of sympathy in the ambassador’s eyes. Had T’Pol told Soval the real reason why he couldn’t bear to see Hoshi Sato marry Matthew Hayes? V’Lar nodded. “Of course.” She stood up and the members of the Circle followed her lead. “I may not see you before you depart, so I wish you peace and long life, Doctor Reed.” “As to you, and as to us all,” Malcolm replied, as he returned the ta’al hand salute. The room quickly emptied, except for T’Pol, Malcolm, Soval and T’Vau. As soon as the door closed, Malcolm sighed and wiped sweat from his brow. He glanced at T’Vau. “I will see you tomorrow morning.” “Yes, Doctor Reed, and I will have all the information compiled for your viewing.” The head of the Vulcan Medical Academy bowed her head, then took her leave. Soval brought his attention back to T’Pol. “And you? When will you leave for Earth?” She hesitated, gauging Malcolm’s reaction, but she saw none on his face. “Tomorrow. Captain Sato has asked me to attend her for her...wedding. Her fiancé’s ship leaves Spacedock soon on patrol while Enterprise is undergoing refit. We do not know when will be the next time Captain Hayes will be available, so they decided that ‘sooner is better than later’.” “Understandable,” Soval said with a solemn nod. “The future is unpredictable and constantly changing. Trip Tucker has kept me appraised of this...ceremony. Captain Hayes asked for my presence, but I believe he has...another motive for asking my assistance.” T’Pol didn’t quite sigh, but her eyes dimmed with dread. “The reaction of Starfleet to our inadvertent encounter. Captain Sato has voiced her concern about the secrecy and the intensity of the debriefing.” Malcolm nodded grudgingly. “Yes...I noticed something amiss before I left San Francisco, Soval. They’re nervous, understandably so, but their response seems...off somehow. It even has Jonathan Archer puzzled.” “So we will find out what the Romulan threat means to our peoples,” Soval said. He inclined his head. “I will see you both on Earth.” “Ambassador,” Malcolm said, as Soval nodded at them and strode away. T’Pol gave Malcolm an appraising look, which he wanted to ignore, but couldn’t. “I have not told him, Malcolm.” “I thank you for your discretion, T’Pol.” “So you will not attend Captain Sato’s wedding then.” T’Pol made it a statement, not a question. His reply was calm. “No. I regret that I...cannot. Please, give her my regards and well-wishes and tell her that I will see her...soon.” “I will.” He gave her a sad smile, then walked away from her before his brave facade cracked in bitter grief. T’Pol watched Malcolm Reed leave, her heart heavy for him. She alone knew what Silik had told Malcolm on the Enterprise, during the Romulan crisis. She had vowed not to divulge the details to anyone, especially Captain Sato. Captain Hayes is not long for this world. He wishes to spare Hoshi grief, but cannot. As a doctor, he wants to heal, and this is one wound he cannot heal. “Forgive me, my daughter, but the questions must be asked.” “The cause is sufficient,” T’Pol replied. T’Les stood directly behind her, still in her formal Vulcan robes. “I hold no grudge, Mother.” T’Les blew out a soft sigh of relief. “Is Doctor Reed ill?” “He is still recovering from the interrogation at the hands of the Suliban, Mother.” “I did not mean physically, T’Pol.” T’Les’s amber-gold eyes held hers. “Malcolm carries a burden that even the strongest Vulcan would not tolerate for long. He walks with a shadowed heart, and I believe it concerns Captain Sato.” T’Pol tried to hide her surprise, but knew it was impossible to do that from her mother. “He worries about her upcoming wedding. Times are so uncertain, now.” “He refuses to attend the ceremony, does he not. He does not wish to see her married to Captain Hayes.” T’Les’s words were a statement of fact, not a question. “He cannot protect her from any heartbreak.” T’Pol shook his head. “Malcolm is a good doctor, but he cannot heal everyone and cure everything. It is within his nature to protect those he cares for most.” Her mother nodded solemnly. “Yes, it is.” She saw reluctance in T’Les’s eyes and wondered about it. It wasn’t like her mother to talk around a subject. “Mother, what troubles you?” T’Les sighed and shook her head. “T’Pol...Koss called this morning. He wanted to speak with you, but I told him you were in a meeting. I cannot delay him much longer, my daughter. You must speak with him.” T’Pol flinched as if T’Les had hit her. “I thought we had agreed to delay any further negotiation on this, Mother. I cannot afford to stay on Vulcan for a year after we marry, when this crisis looms before us—“ “So I told him and his father,” she interrupted. “They both know that circumstances have changed. They wish to...renegotiate.” “I have nothing to say to them.” T’Les raised her hand. “I understand your wishes on the matter, but—“ “Mother!” she said through gritted teeth. “They insisted. Please, T’Pol, tell them again, for they refuse to acknowledge anything I say.” I cannot believe this. Why now? She had a suspicion that Koss had heard of Hoshi’s wedding and wanted the same ceremony, sooner rather than later. Her anger rose in her throat, but she forced it down. “Very well, Mother, but only because you have requested it of me.” The family compound was of modest size for one of T’Les’s social standing. The main house stood in the middle of the square, positioned north-south to take advantage of the sun. Polarized windows gave the building a sense of light and airiness. Special solar panels collected the heat of the day and used it to warm the occupants against the chill of the desert night. The other buildings followed a similar plan: T’Les’s offices, the labs, the hydroponic gardens, and the guest houses. Of course, she could have expanded it at any time she wished, but T’Les logically pointed out that since neither she nor her daughter were there for extended periods of time, what was the purpose of doing so? As a result, the walled villa on the outskirts of Shi’Kahr was artfully hidden from view; not many knew of its location. T’Pol sat in the garden, by her favorite fountain, and listened to the gurgle of the water. She wore her favorite gown of royal purple, with her long blonde hair wound in a crown about her head, with the rest of it free on her shoulders. A betrothed—or married—woman usually wore her hair up, or cut it short. T’Pol had found a suitable compromise that both satisfied Vulcan tradition and Starfleet regulations. She heard the soft footfalls of Koss before she saw him, but didn’t raise her eyes immediately to meet his. Instead, she felt his mental probe, a tickle deep within her brain, as he tried to gauge her mental state at the moment. Not only did it annoy her, it was completely against the mind-meld protocols. She felt his shock as he met her mental shields; living for three months among Humans had strengthened them considerably. Dealing with highly emotional beings—like Lieutenant Commander Tucker, for instance—made it a matter of sanity. “T’Pol,” he finally said, as he withdrew his probe without a word or thought of apology. “It is agreeable to see you.” “And you,” she answered. She did not stand, as was proper, but added, “Forgive me, but this day has been trying in body and spirit. I have not meditated or rested properly since my arrival.” “Your mother told me that you were in meetings all day. I can understand why you are so fatigued.” Koss quickly moved to her side and sat next to her. He offered two fingers in the traditional greeting; she met them. From what she had heard, the gesture was supposed to be one of comfort and warmth, an assertion of the mating bond. She felt nothing but a cool sense of being appraised, much like a valuable artifact under the buyer’s eye. It took her an effort not to recoil from the second intrusion, for Koss would sense it and question. “You wish to renegotiate the marriage contract?” she asked, taking the initiative. His mouth quirked in a non-smile. “The news of your ship’s encounter has had some unexpected effects on the High Command, T’Pol. Father realizes how important it is that you remain at your post. You are the only Vulcan on the Earth vessel; the High Command sees that.” “And what do they require of me this time?” He chuckled, low in his throat. “Father suggests that you return to duty at the appointed time. We will delay the wedding as long as we need to, as long as you remain on board Enterprise. You and your mother are correct; you cannot afford to be on Vulcan for the required year after marriage, not now.” She raised her eyebrows. “But it will come at a price.” He pressed his lips together. “Do you think so low of me and my father?” “Soultek is a military man, unlike yourself,” T’Pol pointed out, “and for every victory, there is a price to be paid.” Koss’s eyes flashed. “My father has chosen wisely, it seems.” She inclined her head. “What does Soultek want in return for my compliance?” “We have agreed to double the bride payments for the duration of your duty,” he said flatly, “but in turn, you will have to provide the High Command with intelligence of every mission, every ally and enemy you encounter. You will provide information on the Humans, so we can anticipate their reactions to certain...events.” She was silent as she thought, I should have known. They believe they have me under their thumb, that I have no choice but to comply with their demands. Soultek was a powerful and influential man in the High Command, second to Minister T’Pau, and T’Pau had shown disturbing trends in her assessment of the “Romulan incident”. Were Soultek and Koss influencing T’Pau in a negative way? “I must find a way around certain safety protocols,” she said slowly. “Perhaps if I can convince Lieutenant Commander Tucker to reveal some of them...without his knowing, of course.” Koss smiled faintly. “I enjoy your thought processes, thy’la. Will you meld with him to gain the knowledge we seek?” T’Pol’s mouth quirked at the endearment, thy’la. Beloved. From Koss’s lips, it sounded like an epithet. “You forget...Tucker has had some experience with melding from Soval. He does have the ability to shield some of his thoughts. No, I would prefer to explore his defenses first...then bypass them.” “Logical.” He nodded. “He is an irrational Human. In addition, he is a friend of the Tellarites, and therefore, a threat to Vulcan.” “I am aware of that, Koss. I may be able to assess that threat as well.” He grasped both of her hands. “As I said, my father has chosen my mate well. When this...crisis...has ended, I look forward to our wedding and our children.” She said nothing to that, but only, “I will return to Vulcan, Koss, but I cannot predict when.” “I will wait patiently, and in the meantime, my father and I will make sure Vulcan is safe from interlopers once more, so your return will be joyful.” He nodded and stood up. “Be safe, thy’la, and return to me. Peace and long life.” She returned the ta’al, then watched as he turned and strode out of the garden. For a man who scorned emotion and claimed to embrace logic, she could see the happiness in his stride. When he finally disappeared from view, she allowed a faint expression of disgust to show on her face. He and his father are monsters, she thought. They do not care about Vulcan; they care about their own power. Again, she wondered how Soultek had convinced T’Les to bond their children; her cool, levelheaded mother would never acquiesce to such an abomination. But I have a mission to complete: to defeat Soultek and Koss, and for that, I will need some...unorthodox assistance. Surak forgive me, I cannot do this alone. T’Pol shivered and turned towards the fountain. She dipped her hands into the cool water and splashed it on her face and neck. The cloying stench of deception seemed to cling to her, despite her best efforts. She stared at the water, and against her will, she thought she saw an image within: an image of a sandy-haired Human with piercing blue eyes, and the uniform of a Starfleet armory officer. |
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