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"The Needs of the Many" by Lady Rainbow
Rating: NC17 Please R&R. I’d love to hear some feedback. Thanks. Four T’Les’s family estates were of modest size, a compound of buildings hidden behind a set of iron gates. The main building housed the immediate members, including T’Les, T’Pol and T’Les’s husband Sendak, when he’d still been alive. Now it was home to various cousins and adoptees; T’Les said that it was illogical to waste valuable space when she and T’Pol were the only two who lived there. T’Pol’s old room was just as she’d left it, six months before, but there were subtle differences. The linen sheets on her bed had been freshly turned, the wooden shelves recently dusted, and the air cooled and purified. She crossed over to her computer terminal in one corner of the chamber and accessed her private files. All seemed in order, at least to the casual eye. Someone has been here, someone has read my files from the Science Ministry and the Ship and Operations Ministry. She was grateful that she’d never stored any critical information from her time on Enterprise in her private files on Vulcan, save the disinformation she and Trip had sent to Koss. Did T’Les know about this? Did she permit access to her daughter’s house computer? Who had it been? Koss, who could have exercised his right as her husband-to-be? Soultek, as her father-in-law-to-be? Someone else? Her mouth twitched in grim humor. Very well, she would fight fire with fire, intrigue with intrigue. She hadn’t spent eighteen months in the Security Ministry under Major T’Lydya for nothing. T’Pol spent the next half hour setting up her own searches, hiding her own inquiries, and finally locking the whole thing under a coded key. It would relay the information to her own terminal on Enterprise. As she switched screens, she heard a soft knock on the door. “Enter,” she called. A familiar face peered cautiously from the doorway. “Cousin?” T’Pol nearly smiled. “Daughter of my mother's sister, be welcome. It is good to see you again, T’Miera.” T’Miera stepped into the room with the grace of a dancer. Her short, dark hair was trimmed neatly over her shoulders, her fringe of hair just at the level of her eyebrows. The blue eyes shone bright with intelligence. T’Miera wore a formal robe of Triaxian silk that was the exact shade of those eyes. “I have been sent to help you dress for the family meeting,” T’Miera said. “Your mother sent a brand new outfit. Did you see it?” T’Pol nodded and indicated the gown on the bed: a delicate creation of silk and sequins, a robe of green with an under-robe of amber-brown, about three shades lighter than her hair. Everything had been planned, down to the soft slippers and her exquisite heirloom jewelry. “Help me dress, T’Miera. We both know that my mother and Soultek appreciate punctuality at these events.” She saw T’Miera’s smirk of understanding; at least T’Pol could count on one ally here, in the midst of enemies. Wow. I hadn’t known that T’Les was so high-ranked in society, thought Trip, as he surveyed the main chamber below. T’Pau had stationed him on the upper balcony that rimmed the top perimeter of the banquet hall. He wore the same uniform as the rest of T’Les’s security detachment: a knee-length brown robe with a soft beige tunic underneath and sturdy leather boots. Phase pistols and energy weapons were forbidden on the premises, but T’Pau had given each guard a traditional Vulcan weapon for defense. She’d permitted Trip to make his own choices. So his trusty heirloom Bowie knife rested in a sheath on his belt and he’d accepted a bo staff from T’Pau that was a few centimeters taller than himself. Trip didn’t trust himself with the lirpa or ahn-woon; this option seemed safer. For some reason, he kept thinking about Daffy Duck as Robin Hood, being bested by Friar Porky Pig at the quarterstaff. Ho, ha, turn, spin...Trip preferred to draw inspiration from a certain comic book character who was suave with the ladies and fought with a bo staff... Too bad you still can’t convince Malcolm that comic books are legitimate reading, he mused. Though he’d probably relate more to the X-Men than Superman...Then a slim, dark-haired Human appeared through the double doors and Trip added, Speak of the devil... Doctor Malcolm Reed appeared next to High Minister V’Lar. He and Trip were the only two Humans allowed at this private meeting; Trip as Security and Malcolm as V’Lar’s new personal physician. Malcolm felt Trip’s eyes on him and although he didn’t look up at Trip, a slight smirk passed over his lips. “Welcome to my home, Godmother to my daughter,” T’Les greeted her with a formal bow, “and be welcome, Doctor. We are honored by your presence.” “Rise, mother of my goddaughter,” V’Lar answered softly. “You do not need to stand on ceremony with me.” “Ah, but ceremony is the lifeblood of our people,” T’Les objected. “Family deserves the utmost honor, for without our House, we are nothing.” “Indeed. You are correct, as usual, T’Les.” V’Lar traded glances with Malcolm, then addressed T'Les again. “Your daughter?” “Preparing for the gathering. I sent T’Miera to assist her. She should be present before Soultek and his kin arrive.” “Good. I would speak with her as soon as possible.” “Of course, Honored One. I will send word to her.” Slowly, the room filled with guests. Trip watched from above as the political players began their game. He’d seen it before, when he had been assigned to the Vulcan Consulate in San Francisco, a decade ago, but there was a different tension here. T’Les was the perfect hostess as she greeted her family and guests. Although T’Pau had briefed him on the various lines of T’Pol’s clan, he still had trouble keeping everyone straight. Soval was one of the last ones to arrive, which surprised Trip. Usually, the ambassador was more punctual, but the look around Soval’s eyes was a testament to the strain he was under. Soval joined T’Pol, T’Les, V’Lar and Malcolm. He didn’t see T’Pol enter the room, but he felt her presence. It began as a warm tickle at the back of his mind, then a gentle sensation of acceptance, of homecoming. Trip hadn’t told her he’d be there at the meeting, but someway, somehow, she knew he was there. Then she appeared at the double doors, accompanied by her cousin, and Trip felt a lump in his throat. God almighty, she’s gorgeous! The green-gold robe she wore complemented her skin tone and hair perfectly, and the golden jewelry brought out her eyes. Her eyes flickered upward to meet his for a split second, but she kept her face impassive as she glided across the floor with her normal Vulcan grace and greeted her mother and V’Lar. Despite her outward calm, Trip knew she was worried, almost terrified, at he prospect of confronting Koss. Would he insist on holding the marriage ceremony, the koon-ut-kal-i-fee? Would he delay it even longer, forcing T’Les to continue paying a high bride price? Would he humiliate her in front of her clan? Trip kept his face impassive, even as a jolt of anger went through him. Calm, control, he reminded himself, remember, these guys can feel what you’re feeling a mile away. Can’t have Koss or Soultek accuse you of impropriety, God forbid... A gong rang and Soultek came in, followed closely by his son. Koss paused at the threshold and gazed upward at the ring of guards on the upper balcony. His eyes passed over Trip as if he wasn’t there at all. Strange, it’s not like I’m just like all the others, Trip thought. Koss frowned and bit his lip, then brought his attention back to the gathering. He stepped forward to meet T’Pol, two fingers outstretched in the traditional greeting between mates. T’Pol raised her hand and touched her own fingers to his. Trip’s skin crawled in response to the sight. The two exchanged polite words, then T’Pol turned to bow to Soultek. The older man nodded in approval, his crafty little eyes glittering with self-satisfaction. “Welcome home, my thy’la,” Koss greeted her. “It is good to be home,” T’Pol replied simply. Her face was composed, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes as she noticed that Koss hadn’t let go of her hand. “Are you well?” “Well enough,” he replied lightly, but there was a tension in his tone that Trip picked up immediately. “I am eager to hear about your adventures on the Earth ship and of your experiences with the crew.” “I am sure,” she replied blandly. She looked pointedly at her wrist and Koss finally released her. Trip felt a surge of anger that seemed to come out of nowhere; he took a deep breath and gripped the bo until the feeling passed. Another gong rang to signal the beginning of the evening meal. T’Les took the head of the long table, as befitting the mistress of the house, with T’Pol at her right hand side and Cousin T’Miera next to T’Pol, followed by Soval, Minister V’Lar and Malcolm. Koss sat directly across from his intended, with Soultek and his kin next to him. Trip felt a gentle hand on his arm and started in surprise. It was T’Pau, who whispered, “Come with me, Charles. We must make sure T’Les and T’Pol are protected.” “Yes, ma’am,” Trip replied. He followed her down the spiral stone staircase to an alcove directly behind T’Pol and T’Miera. He nodded at the two guards already there; the younger Vulcan inclined his head toward Koss with a look of disgust. They could hear every word of any conversation between the senior family members. “We are gratified that you have safely returned to us, T’Pol,” said Soultek. “Your ship has seen more action in space than anyone had expected.” T’Pol inclined her head in response. “I am proud to represent my people on Enterprise, Soultek.” “We have all heard about the attacks on the Terran Colonies. A shame, that. Yet, they persist in remaining out there in danger—“ Malcolm Reed chuckled as he took a sip of his water. “The Colonial mentality is universal, General Soultek. As long as there is hope, they will stay where they are.” “Is that not foolish, Doctor? Why would they risk their lives in a danger zone?” T’Les raised an eyebrow. “Our ancestors had the same spirit of exploration,” she reminded him. “Vulcan established their own colonies and we still have scientific outposts. There is danger, but also great possibilities for Vulcan.” “Our ancestors disappeared, T’Les, without a trace.” “Indeed, but we cannot allow that to prevent us from knowing what lies beyond our borders.” This touched off a debate about the value of space exploration. Trip listened, fascinated, at the various viewpoints. Of course, T’Les and T’Pol saw the scientific and social advantages, while Koss and his father were more concerned about Vulcan’s safety and security from potential enemies. Soval played devil’s advocate, posing hypothetical situations and inviting solutions. Trip wondered if this was typical dinner conversation at a Vulcan banquet; considering the guests at this one, it didn’t surprise him much. Points and counterpoints came smoothly, as if T’Les’s and Soultek’s families were used to such discourse. Trip paid more attention to Koss ‘s answers. The young Vulcan was sincere in his defense of his home planet and the fear of interlopers was, for him, very real. Trip could sympathize with Koss’s position...almost. When he turned his attention to T’Pol, Trip found himself gritting his teeth at the tone of cool condescension. Obviously, Koss’s private persona was much different from his public facade. “The Humans treat you well, thy’la?” “Yes. Captain Sato values my expertise in ship’s operations. She is a competent captain.” “Tell me more about her. She is nothing but a set of personnel files for me. I have heard good things about her.” In short words, T’Pol obliged him. Koss nodded in interest. She touched upon the other members of the crew as well; Trip couldn’t help but smile at the cool, analytic tone she took as she described him. “Highly skilled, yet highly emotional.” Koss reached over and touched her fingers, and again, Trip flinched at the sight “Your continued presence on Enterprise is a boon to us, although your absence has been rather...difficult for me, thy’la.” “We have our duties and obligations to fill, Koss. That was what we agreed upon, for the good of Vulcan and its people.” She withdrew her fingers and wrapped them around the nearest water pitcher, then she refilled her glass and Koss’s with her natural grace. “What of the good for us? Our family? My father always reminds me to be patient for the day when Vulcan is strong again, but recent events have proven that life is unpredictable. Such an achievement may take decades, perhaps more.” Her voice was still calm, but it now held a sharp edge. “Patience is a virtue. Your father is correct in this. If it is meant to be, it will be, by Surak’s grace.” “I have every confidence that it will be. T’Pol, I cannot wait much longer for us to be joined.” “You cannot wait?” The false veneer of indifference began to crack. “You cannot feel it? I yearn for you, T’Pol.” Trip couldn’t breathe when he heard those words. Oh boy. Does that mean what I think it means? He’d seen a glimpse of Soval’s memories, ten years ago, and one of those glimpses had been of Soval’s wedding ceremony. He felt a spike of fear, barely suppressed, then something within him reached out to meet it. He closed his eyes. I’m here, darlin’. I’m right here. I’m not gonna leave you. It’s gonna be okay. The unseen presence clung to him, then a wave of longing poured into his soul. Instantly, he was transported back to his dream—had it been a dream—several nights before... The feel of her skin, the intertwining of his thoughts with hers, as close as their physical bodies...he couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to, he was going to burn from the inside out, no amount of self-control, Human or Vulcan, could help him now, and she accepted him, wanted him, much to his astonished relief; and now he understood Surak’s words, “I rejoice in our differences”, for although they were different, they still had much in common after all...He now understood why Vulcans tried to suppress their more violent emotions...He struggled to keep his equilibrium, for he had no idea just how much T’Pau and the others could feel from him. Then another random memory passed through his mind: on Zora Prime, the day after they’d crashed a shuttle on its surface, and they’d discussed this strange connection that linked them. The conversation was as clear as a bell: “Uh...T’Pol...is it possible to have a bond with more than one person?” “I assume you’re referring to Koss...I have the betrothal bond, formed when we were seven years old, but other than that...nothing.” “Nothing? Not even a smidgen? You can’t feel him at all?” “His presence does not intrude on my consciousness...there are days when I do not think of him at all.” “God, T’Pol, I’m sorry.” Now Trip knew why she felt nothing from Koss, why his revelation upset her so. If Koss was undergoing this thing...she had been completely unaware of it. But then, wasn’t this pon farr reciprocal? If Koss felt it, why didn’t T’Pol? Why--? Another spike of longing hit him like a tidal wave, and his knees sagged. He pressed himself against the alcove wall and bit his lip to keep from screaming. It was as if someone had released the floodgates. Then he felt hands on his temples...Control it, control it now! Lieutenant Commander Tucker...you are on duty. Her safety and welfare depend on you! T’Pau’s sharp words brought him out of the fog. He came back to himself, in his own body, supported by T’Pau and the two young Vulcan guards. He’d dropped his staff, but his right hand was gripped tightly around the hilt of the Bowie knife at his belt. It took him a supreme effort to unlock his fingers; if he hadn’t had the strength of three Vulcans holding him back, he might have rushed into the room and slit Koss’s throat. He dredged up the tattered remains of his control, forced his heartbeat and breathing to slow, made his muscles relax. He could no longer feel T’Pol’s excess emotions, for T’Pau had put up some kind of barrier between them. “I’m okay,” he whispered hoarsely. “Thanks. I don’t know what happened—“ T’Pau glanced at the guards. “Page Doctor T’Vau at the Medical Academy and summon Doctor Reed. I hate to pull Malcolm from V’Lar’s side, but this situation has become dire. Use discretion. Do not tell anyone what has occurred here.” “Yes, Minister.” The guards scattered at her command. T’Pau helped Trip away from the main hall, out into the garden and the cooler Vulcan night. A serving woman rushed to their side with a pitcher of saya juice. Despite Trip’s initial protests, T’Pau practically pried his mouth open and poured the liquid into him. He felt another thread of support and opened his eyes to see Malcolm Reed’s look of concern. Trip tried to speak, but Malcolm only shook his head. “You’re going to the Medical Academy, Trip. No arguments, or by all that’s holy, I’ll have you in restraints.” “No argument from me, Doc,” Trip said. “T’Pol, how is she? Is—?” “Shaken, but unharmed. Luckily, or not, you helped absorb some of her rampant emotions enough to help her keep her facade of control.” Malcolm shook his head and looked up at T’Pau. “T’Les felt some residual effects, as did I and Soval. V’Lar did not, but she knew something was amiss. The other guests, including Soultek, had no clue. Trip, can you walk?” “Long as I don’t have to run a marathon over the desert,” Trip quipped. The weak joke brought a smile to Malcolm’s face. “C’mon, let’s go before something else happens.” He got up from the bench under his own power and under Malcolm’s watchful eye, led the way to the main gate. And far behind them, T’Miera watched them go. |
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