|
Are We There Yet?
Rating: PG Note: Uh, Dear Readers, I did not know this story would take off on its own in this direction. It was supposed to be humorous, not tragic as it is becoming. Note: The Vulcan village below is the destination of Trip and T’Pol in this story. The artwork is concept artwork produced by Star Trek Online.
Chapter Three T’Pol slid down out of the camper and took a few steps back along the road. The body of an animal looked dark on top of the glowing road. One leg twitched. The flashlight caught a sparkle on the animal’s neck. “It’s a collar, T’Pol,” whispered Trip, leaning out of the camper from the driver’s seat she had just vacated. “A jeweled collar, looks like. I think we are in trouble.” T’Pol approached the animal from behind its back. She made a wide circle around it, shining the light on its face. “It’s a sehlat. Miniature pet breed. It is dying. The eyes are fogged and unseeing. But it hears me. See the ears perk up. But it is lying its ears flat against its head as I get closer. It just exhaled deeply. Stopped moving. It is gone.” “I’m coming over.” Trip dropped out of the camper, glancing both ways along the road. He came over to stand by T’Pol, then kicked at a leg with his toe. “Right, I think it is dead.” Squatting down he touched it below the knee. No movement. So he put a hand on its chest. “Careful, Trip. Sometimes they play dead if they think they are outmatched.” But she walked behind it and bent down to look closer at the collar and the plate with writing. “Trip,” she said in a slightly tremulous voice. “This is a working sehlat. A blind person’s helper.” “Like a seeing eye dog? Geez, T’Pol, how unlucky could we get?” The low purr of a hovercraft motor approached slowly from the direction in which they had been heading. Headlights washed over Trip and T’Pol as they stood over the body of the sehlat in the middle of the road. The noise ceased and a door opened from the bottom like a shuttlecraft’s. “Na’shaya (greetings),” said a tall male figure, stepping out of the hovercraft. “Na’shaya,” returned T’Pol, “Etek pustau sehlat k’sha’-hali (We killed a sehlat with our vehicle).” The man walked over and stopped short. “Oh, what a shame. This is the missing pet that we have been looking for.” He squatted and ran his hand through the fur on the sehlat’s back. “It belonged to a blind child. Oh, well, nothing can be done about this. How did it happen? Was anyone else hurt?” The man looked up at them with sad eyes, the usual Vulcan veil of emotionlessness brushed aside for a moment. “No one was hurt. I believe our vehicle is undamaged. We regret being the instrument of this sehlat’s death. We grieve with thee.” T’Pol looked at the man, letting a touch of emotion show, and then she straightened and waited for him to make the next move. Trip clasped his hands in front of him and when the man glanced his way said “We grieve with thee. What should we do now?” The man rose, and looked down at the dead sehlat. I suppose we better get him into the back of my hovercraft so I can take him to his family.” Trip and the Vulcan man were able to pick up the sehlat. T’Pol followed, removing a baby wipe from her pocket to dab at the trickle of blood from the sehlat’s mouth which trailed along the road as it was carried. The man leaned against his vehicle after they had closed the hatch over the body. Turning his head slightly he asked “will you follow me to the sehlat’s owner’s home?” “Certainly,” said T’Pol. The man nodded and proceeded to enter his hovercraft and turn it around. The sad caravan entered the outskirts of a village two turnings up the road. The light from this village of 2000 inhabitants was more mellow than the brightness of a Human town of similar size. Trip marveled at that, since the Vulcan day was so intensely bright, he would have thought the evening lights would be brighter. They were brighter, somewhat, in the larger cities, but here it seemed the people preferred a bluish cast to night lighting. The village streets appeared to be cobbled – not square bricks or rounded stones, but large flat five-sided flagstones. They stopped in a street fronted by high walled residences, pulling over as close to the walls as possible. The street was narrow, but two vehicles might be able to pass each other here – if they were careful. The Vulcan man got out of the hovercraft and pushed a bell in niche in a wall. The door recessed in the wall opened, blue light spilling out into the street. A woman in a meditation robe inclined her head and stepped aside, so Trip indicated to T’Pol that he would stay with the still sleeping Lizi while she accompanied the man into the home. A few minutes later, two males, a teenager and an adult, came out and removed the sehlat from the hovercraft. After they disappeared back thought the door, T’Pol came out and pantomimed rocking a baby, then gestured for Trip to come inside. Trip, carrying Lizi, noted there was a front garden, like at T’Les’s house which was now his and T’Pol’s. But this was a townhouse, not a suburban one like theirs. They ended up in a sitting room facing this garden, in armless but moderately comfortable chairs. Trip patted the baby as he scanned the half circle of expressionless Vulcan faces. Well, not completely expressionless, kind of waiting and subdued. The “We grieve with thee’s” were repeated and acknowledged. Trip let T’Pol do all the talking, noting the occasional glances of the Vulcans at the baby. Then the oldest woman spoke to T’Pol, so she took Lizi from Trip and handed her into the woman’s slightly shaky arms. Lizi’s blanket was pulled back and she was examined closely by several elders. Then nodding, the eldest returned her to T’Pol who returned her to Trip. What was that all about? Asked Trip through the bond. Just normal politeness, T’Pol answered. But these people are not family, not even of your clan. That does not matter. Every child is inspected. Okay, when can we leave and meet your cousin? She and her mate have been summoned here. Uh oh, is this now a peace negotiation after one clan has harmed another? It would have been in pre-Surak times. Now, it is just expected courtesy. Do not fret, Thy’la. We will be released into the custody of my cousin within the hour and she has prepared a nice dinner for us. Released? Are we being…held? Not exactly... but kind of…this is Vulcan! I will explain later! Okay. Just as long as we don’t have to bond our first born to someone. Trip pulled Lizi tighter to his chest as the two who had removed the sehlat from the hovercraft now entered the sitting room carrying it wrapped in a green blanket. They set it in a depression in the center of the room. T’Pol touched Trip’s arm. Normally, a fire pit. Like a fireplace in a Human house. The center of the house. Then a woman came into the room with a child of about six. The boy walked with the flat of one hand lightly touching her robe. There was a tear running down his face. A TEAR! The woman led the child to the fire pit where the child knelt and searched around with his hands until found the sehlet’s body. “N-o’tu. Mair-n-o’tu (Cold. Extremely cold),” said the boy. “Rihamau tevakh (verify death),” said the woman gently. “Tevakh rihamaya (death verified),” the boy responded, his voice, soft but clear. Then he laid his head on the green blanket and one muffled sob hushed the remaining undertone of talk in the room. For a few seconds there was absolutely no movement. Then the woman touched the boy’s shoulder. He stood and followed her out of the room, again with the flat of his hand lightly on her robe. |
Like it? Hate it? Just want to point out a typo? Join the discussion now.
Disclaimer: Star Trek in all its various forms and its characters are the property of CBS/Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended by the authors of this site, which is solely for the purpose of entertainment and is not for profit. This site is owned by CX and was opened to the public in February 2008.
