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"The Needs of the Many" by Lady Rainbow
Rating: PG13 Shomek, Soultek and their supporters take advantage of the Andorian situation to make their move. Things seem grim...but take heart, everyone. They didn’t count on one resourceful Starfleet captain and her crew. Please R&R. I’d love to hear some feedback. Thanks. Thanks, Pesterfield! And Paan Mokar isn't just simply automated, like everyone believes. (Blue Tears gives a valuable clue to Paan Mokar's current status). The Vulcans are proud of their defense grid around the planetoid (of course, pride is an emotion. LOL), but now they're worried with Columbia's involvement. Six “My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts...” “T’Pol? What the—you all right? What the hell’s goin’ on?” “Open your eyes, Trip.” Trip did so and found himself in a bare, white room. The walls were white, the floor was white, and the ceiling stretched out to white nothingness. The lack of color unnerved him; he squinted against the glare, for it reminded him too much of snow blindness. “T’Pol?” he called aloud. His voice echoed as if he was in a huge cavern. She replied, “I am here.” He whirled around to see her standing behind him, still dressed in that exquisite robe she’d worn to the homecoming reception. There was a slight smile on her face, one that he’d never seen before. Then, she held a hand out to him, two fingers extended, just like he’d seen her do with Koss. He automatically matched it without thinking. The significance of it slammed into him like a wave. “Uh...” “I will not harm you, Trip,” T’Pol reassured him, her calm voice tinged with gentle humor. “We are in a meditation space in my mind. This is where I go when I want to find peace.” “No offense, but it’s kinda...well, bland.” Again, he felt the laughter that she would never utter aloud. “Since you are here, you can alter the surroundings to fit your comfort level. It does not have to remain...bland.” “Really? How do I do that?” “Hold an image in your mind. Remember how you felt while you were in that place. Every sensation, every image...” He did as he she suggested, and he immediately smelled the tang of the sea and heard the gentle lap of waves. Trip opened his eyes to find himself on a wooden pier, leaning casually on the railing next to a fishing pole. He blinked and glanced down at the waders, the fishing jacket, the rubber gloves. “I’ll be—“ He was on a reconstruction of the Virginia Beach Oceanfront Pier, accurate to the seafood restaurant at one end. He hadn’t been here in years; it had gone down during a major hurricane and was currently being rebuilt (again; how many times now in the past century? Thirty-five, thirty-six? He’d lost count.). But he remembered summers here, fishing off this pier, with his father, brother, and sisters nearby... He glanced over his shoulder to see T’Pol. She looked around her curiously, but with considerable trepidation. Of course; Vulcans were skittish around the ocean, with rare exceptions. Trip wondered what Soval would think of the Pier...”Sorry,” he apologized. “This was what came to mind...I suppose I could always change it.” “No, this is a place of comfort for you. I have never experienced being on a...fishing pier before.” She came to stand next to him, her long blonde hair waving in the wind and a fresh verdant flush on her cheeks. They watched the sea in comfortable silence, the spray of white foam in the air. He hated to disturb the peace, but if he didn’t do it now, he wouldn’t have the courage to do it later. “T’Pol. What’s happening between us? This bond? What went on between you and Koss? All I have to go by is what I saw in the dining chamber...and what I felt from you.” She said nothing for a long moment, then answered hesitantly, “On Zora Prime, when we shared each others memories and thoughts...that was when I knew there was truly nothing between myself and Koss. Bonded mates share things beyond the physical...this is what I saw between my parents, between Soval and his mate, before her death. I yearned for such closeness, even as...illogical as it seemed.” “But Koss—“ Trip frowned as he recalled the scanty information he knew of Vulcan bonds. “You mean the childhood bond never, well, ‘took’, so to speak? It never existed?” “Oh, it exists.” Her voice was tinged with bitterness. “If anything untoward happened to him, I would feel it, but it has always been fragile, Trip. It was never strong enough to truly join us together. Then...” she swallowed hard, “when I met you on Enterprise, and what we went through with the I’Rhiamanau and the V’tosh Ka’tur...” “Somehow the bond reasserted itself...it stretched between us.” “Yes.” She squeezed her eyes shut and he felt her distress. “Uh...it runs three ways instead of two?” The thought made him highly uncomfortable, as if he was a third wheel on a shuttlepod, and just as useless. “The last thing I want to do is to interfere with a bond—“ She managed a smile, but it made her look sickly. “No...the bond between us is still fragile and you are not Vulcan. You would not feel my emotions...until it strengthened enough to do so. The backlash will still resonate through the weaker link, through Koss. “I know you are aware of one of Vulcan’s closest-held secrets...the Time of Mating, the pon farr. It is a time when logic is stripped away. The urge becomes uncontrollable, violent, shameful. Koss and I...have not reached that point yet, but we will. It is inevitable.” It was Trip’s turn to swallow. “You gotta marry him, then.” “Not necessarily. There are alternatives.” “There are? You mean, besides death? I don’t want to see you die—“ She reached over and touched his wrist. “I need your help, but it will require sacrifice—“ He met her eyes and felt a strange calm come over him. “I’ll be by your side, T’Pol. What are you thinking?” So T’Pol told him, as they held hands on the Pier, braved the elements, and watched the sun set over the ocean. T’Lya, High Priestess of Mount Seleya, hovered over the prone bodies of T’Pol and Charles “Trip” Tucker the Third. Both of them lay next to each other on adjoining slabs of granite. T’Lya’s left hand was on T’Pol’s brow, her right on Tucker’s. Standing on T’Lya’s left was Minister V’Klir, the head of the Ministry of Justice. He had his hand on the psi points of the priestess’s face, serving as the “ground” to the waking world for T’Lya. Malcolm Reed stood behind the observation window, his arms crossed on his chest. T’Les watched the proceedings with uncharacteristic eagerness. Next to T’Les stood Koss, T’Pol’s betrothed. The young Vulcan man’s eyes were hooded and his hands curled into fists at his side. “I should be there with her, not that Human,” Koss muttered, his tone low and dangerous. “Why will they not let me touch her?” T’Les gave him a sideways glance. “You are in the throes of pon farr, Koss. If you touch her now, it will be detrimental to both of you.” He snapped his gaze from the portal to T’Les. “You want to dissolve our bond!” he hissed “You’ve never approved of us—“ “Koss,” Malcolm interrupted. He inclined his head toward T’Lya. “The High Priestess wants to make sure both T’Pol and Lieutenant Commander Tucker aren’t harmed. If the bond between you and T’Pol is strong, then there should be no reason for concern. T’Lya will confirm it...and Minister V’Klir will provide an unbiased confirmation. That is why she asked him to witness her examination. He is not personally or politically inclined to either side.” Koss took a deep breath. Yes, Malcolm had stated the situation with cool logic, but Koss bristled at such logic coming from an emotional Human. In many ways, Malcolm considered him and his kin more Human-like than any other Vulcans he knew...a dry smirk quirked his lips as he thought, Not that I would say that to Koss’s face. It would be unwise. “But it is taking overly long—“ “It will take as long as it takes,” T’Les admonished him. Koss scowled and turned back toward the window, and all three waited with baited breath for the verdict. Soultek stood in front of the Vulcan High Council, a tactical grid on the sprawling screen behind him. The known positions of the Andorian First and Second Squadrons, Columbia, and the Paan Mokar defensive grid were marked with bold colors. The aide to the Vulcan Security Minister spoke with tense tones, but he didn’t panic. Hoshi sat next to Soval and Jon Archer; she had to give Koss’s father credit for his matter-of-fact presentation. Minister Shomek got to his feet and made his way to the front of the Council. Instead of joining his aide on the platform, he stopped directly in front of Minister T’Pau and High Minister V’Lar. A rumble went through the assembly; Hoshi wondered if this was a break from tradition. She glanced at Soval, who had raised his eyebrows in surprise, and Jon, whose handsome features seemed etched out of stone. Uh oh, she thought. Definitely not good. What are Shomek and Soultek up to? “This so-called ‘spirit of cooperation’ among ourselves, the Andorians, and Starfleet may have had merit during the so-called V’tosh Ka’tur crisis, but look at it now,” Shomek said. His voice was devoid of emotion, but Hoshi felt his fury, even from where she sat. “The Andorians accuse us of kidnapping their diplomat, and are using that as an excuse to retake Paan Mokar!” T’Pau got to her feet and faced him directly. Although the height difference between them was significant, she was unbowed before his accusation. “The evidence clearly shows that it was Vulcans who orchestrated the kidnapping of Lady Jhamel and Lady Talla. If it had not been Vulcans from the Shadow Unit, under your direct command, and not the regular Security forces, then the logical answer is that someone is attempting to circumvent our efforts at a united front.” Another uneasy stir. Hoshi glanced at Jon. “Shadow Unit? I’ve never heard of them before,” she whispered, too softly for anyone to hear. Jon didn’t look at her. “It’s shorthand for the Vulcan version of Section 31.” Hoshi felt the color drain from her face...the “shadow unit” of Starfleet, whose members were hidden and whose missions “didn’t exist”. Matt Hayes had said it existed, but that was all he‘d said. Shomek turned toward the audience. “There is no evidence to your supposition, Minister T’Pau. The facts are that the Andorians and the second Earth ship are headed towards Paan Mokar in an act of aggression. It is also a fact that the captain of the Columbia is a bond-brother to a member of one of Andoria’s most powerful military clans. This cannot be an accident.” He turned his glare to Hoshi. “Columbia is clearly part of the invasion force.” Hoshi got to her feet, despite Jon’s attempts to hold her back. She lifted her chin and said, “Captain Hayes received orders from Admiral Forrest to ‘do whatever is necessary’ to avoid a conflict, Minister Shomek. He is not inclined to savage warfare. We are tasked to protect Earth and its allies, not aggravate conflict between them.” She met Shomek’s expression with a cool one of her own. “Do not assume without the pertinent facts, sir.” “This from the mate of Captain Shran’s bond-brother. Forgive me, Milady Captain, but you are hardly an unbiased observer.” “I believe none of us qualify for that, Shomek,” interrupted V’Lar. She glanced at Hoshi, who sat back down. “What do you propose, as head of the Vulcan High Command?” “Send a defensive fleet of our own,” he said, “as an addition to the automated defenses on Paan Mokar. We cannot afford to lose a valuable stronghold.” Shomek's face was scornful. "The defenses were designed by the best tactical minds on Vulcan; we have depended on them to hold the planetoid secure. The Andorians have never been able to bypass the defense grid, but we cannot afford to take chances, with this joint invasion force." “I agree,” chimed in one of T’Pau’s own Security ministers. “The Andorians have violated the treaty they signed sixty years ago. Vulcan must protect its own territories.” A swell of agreement came from the joint ranks of the Council and the VHC, despite any attempt to calm the storm. Soval called for reason, but his voice was swallowed by the wave of patriotic fervor. Then Shomek moved until he was directly in front of T’Pau and V’Lar. Soultek joined him, and to Hoshi’s fascinated horror, half of the assembly. “If you still insist on standing aside and allowing this travesty to happen, then we must find those who are willing to take arms to defend Vulcan.” T’Pau glared at him. “You and your fellows are out of order, Shomek. Sit down, and we will discuss the deployment of Vulcan’s defensive fleets. I will not allow your rampant emotion to bring us to the brink of another war. I am sworn to Vulcan with my dying breath, as are you. As are all of us.” Her eyes flickered toward the mob standing solidly behind Shomek. “Our enemies wish to see us fractured, and you are playing directly into their hands.” In reply, Shomek glanced over his shoulder at his followers. “We are unified in our cause, T’Pau. Our course is clear. If you are not willing to defend Vulcan, then our people need someone who can and who will not hesitate.” V’Lar’s features were suffused with bright green, and Hoshi feared she would have a heart attack right there in the Council Chamber. Jon quickly summoned the medics, while Soval and Hoshi ran forward to the platform. The movement distracted T’Pau, who turned in time to see V’Lar sink to the floor in a dead faint. Soval managed to catch her before she hit her head on the tiles. Hoshi paged Malcolm on her communicator as others rushed to help. “You may have just killed her, Shomek,” T’Pau all but snarled. “You and your delusions of glory.” Shomek shook his head and said with a trace of regret. “No, T’Pau. No delusions of glory. Just doing what is right for our people.” He raised his voice. “By accordance of Vulcan law, I hereby take control of the Vulcan High Council, in the wake of Minister V’Lar’s delicate health. Soultek! Shurmak! Scramble our Defense Forces on high alert!” Jon looked up, his face gray. “Hoshi, get on the line with Admiral Forrest. Tell him what’s happened. We need to warn Starfleet—hurry, before they decide to cut off all communications with Earth.” Hoshi didn’t hesitate. She used the cover of chaos to escape before Shomek or any of his cronies realized she was gone. |
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