"Differential" By Zane Gray Rating: Most of the story will qualify as PG, but expect some seriously R-rated bumps along the way. Disclaimer: Star Trek owned by CBS/Paramount. Description: In Prologue Chapter Eight The blazing glare of the Vulcan suns blasted down, scorching the barren landscape relentlessly. A hot wind kicked stinging dust into the air, forcing the young woman to pull the satin hood of her robe tighter around her face. She'd been walking for hours it seemed - strange given that her families' ceremonial grounds lay only a short distance outside of ShirKahr. Undaunted, the woman strode on, toward the distant mountains. It was nearly nightfall when she finally reached the sacred place. T'Pol bowed her head and dropped her hood carefully, presenting herself for the rites according to the ancient traditions of her people. But when she glanced up, she was surprised to discover that the place was empty. Were not her parents supposed to await her arrival? Was this not to be her wedding day? And where was her future husband and his family? T'Pol was completely alone, with only the roiling eye of T'Khut watching over her indifferently. Perhaps that was as it should be. T'Pol looked down, feeling a twinge of embarrassment... of shame. Hadn't she always been alone? Hadn't others always regarded her differently? For her entire life, she'd felt like an outsider among her own people. While her peers published countless dissertations on the history of logic or conducted the same experiments endlessly, T'Pol instead looked to the stars. While other Vulcans were content to see no further than the sand between their toes, she yearned to travel to other worlds... to understand her place in the Universe. But T'Pol knew the price of these yearnings... a life spent alone. Taking one last look around the ground her family held sacred... T'Pol finally realized that it meant nothing to her. Shrugging her wedding robe from her shoulders, she turned and began walking back the way she came. And then there came a voice in the emptiness... T'Pol! Can you hear me? Please... help me. T'Pol...! T'Pol awoke with a start. She'd fallen asleep - unforgivable! She glanced around quickly, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness of the cave. The fire was nearly out and it was cold. She stirred the embers and added new bits of kindling, careful not to wake Sesslek. His breathing was labored and he was talking quietly in his sleep, mumbling a string of strange words in an ancient Vulcan tongue. "...Spunau bolayalar t'Wehku bolayalar t'Zamu il t'Veh..." Clearly, he was not doing well. They'd have to get him back to the Enterprise soon, or he would not survive. And that's when the voice came back to her - the voice from her dream. That she'd dreamt at all spoke volumes about her frazzled mental state. But it was the voice she focused on. The voice alone mattered now... Commander Tucker's voice. She knew without doubt that he was in trouble. Grabbing her tricorder and phase pistol, T'Pol hurried to the entrance of the cave. How long had she been asleep? She thought only a short time, but with the sun going down, anything could have happened. Trip could have been hurt, he could have gotten lost. All she knew for certain was that he was overdue... and she had to find him. When she exited the cave, T'Pol was alarmed to realize that the sky was almost completely dark. Doing her best to temper her rapidly growing alarm, she stepped into the wind and disappeared into the night. ... The sputtering sound of fusion torches echoed down the corridor as Jonathan Archer came to survey the repair work underway on F Deck. Trip's Engineering staff had been working for hours now, led by Lieutenant Burke. With the help of Malcolm's team from the Armory, they'd restored the aft hull polarizers and had even managed to bring secondary polarizers online - an idea Trip had suggested months before and had assigned Burke to begin preliminary work on. To say that Malcolm had been impressed with the Senior Engineering Assistant would be an understatement. Even now, he was up on the Bridge, giddily aligning the hull plating. Archer had never seen him so excited, and he suspected the young woman would be treated to a helluva dinner at their next port of call. When she saw Archer approaching, Burke stepped away from the rest of her team, which was busy installing a new pre-burner and power couplings on the fusion generator in the Auxiliary Power compartment. She was covered in carbon soot and she looked exhausted, but Archer smiled at her anyway. "Malcolm's ready to recommend you for sainthood and I'm inclined to agree. How's it coming?" Hailey wiped the sweat from her forehead on her sleeve, and brushed a stray shock of long hair out of her eyes. "We're almost done, Captain. There's just one last generator left to repair after this one, up on D Deck. We've managed to patch the plasma leak and repressurize the lines to the port nacelle, but I think that's the best we can do outside of a spacedock. One good hit and it'll break loose again." "That's all right. You've done more than anyone can ask, Lieutenant. Why don't you get some sleep." "There's just a few more--" Archer smiled again, patiently. "Consider it an order." Burke relented. "Aye sir. As soon as we're finished here, I'll take a break." "Good." Noticing that she seemed to hesitate, he continued. "You've done a fine job, Hailey. Trip would be proud." She glanced up worried. "Do you think he's all right, sir? Commander Tucker's not... well, he's sort of--" Archer laughed quietly. "You mean he has a way of getting himself into trouble whenever he leaves the ship?" "Aye sir," she admitted sheepishly. "I wouldn't worry, Lieutenant. Trip's got nine lives." Then he seemed to consider what he'd said. "And just in case, the Sub-Commander's got his back." Burke nodded and went back to work, looking somewhat less that relieved. Archer turned and headed back to the turbolift. I'm counting on you, T'Pol... ... Sesslek awoke to the sound of someone moving down the long rock passageway from the entrance of the cave. After a brief moment of alarm, he noted T'Pol's absence, and reasonably concluded that she was the likeliest suspect. But judging by the heavy, trudging quality to the sound of the approaching footsteps, she was not alone. Moments later, the petite Vulcan appeared from around the corner as expected, half supporting and half dragging an injured Starfleet officer, who appeared to have been exposed to the elements somewhat longer than was advisable. The fair-haired young Commander was in a sorry state, wavering on the edge of consciousness. He shivered uncontrollably as T'Pol deposited him near the fire and began brushing a shower of ice crystals from his hair and clothing. Sesslek did his best to stoke the flames as the man roused. "So c-c-cold. Can't see..." T'Pol glanced at him in alarm, and began scanning him with her tricorder. "You have a dangerous concentration of dissolved toxins in your bloodstream." "P-plasma toxicosis. Need the medkit. Please tell me you have it." Her concern grew. "I do not." Trip looked at her dismayed. "What?" "You were carrying it." She reached into one of the pockets in his parka and, with notable relief, produced a small metal container, upon which a stylized caduceus was etched. The Commander stared at it dumbly. "I'll be damned..." He fumbled with the kit. "I need the bellamin-- the bellade--" "Bellamide oxide? Sit still. I will administer the dose." With care and efficiency, T'Pol loaded the appropriate vial into the kit's hypospray and pressed it into Trip's shoulder. He sighed in relief. "Thanks. S-should be okay for a little while. But... still g-gotta get back to the ship." Trip squinted his eyes and focused as best he could on T'Pol. "Next time Jon asks me on an away mission... remind me to s-say no. Don't think I've really got the knack for 'em." "You have had an inordinate number of mishaps." "Whatcha need is someone who hasn't got a big r-red bulls-eye on his back. Like maybe one of Malcolm's Security guys..." "I shall take your recommendation under advisement." For the first time, Trip looked around, still squinting, and seemed to notice that they weren't alone. "Who's your friend?" "His name is Sesslek. He was my mentor at the Vulcan Science Academy." She turned to Sesslek. "This is Commander Charles Tucker the Third. He is the Chief Engineer of the Enterprise." Sesslek nodded politely. Trip gave a half smile. "Pleased ta meet ya. I'm uh... 'fraid I kinda b-blew up yer ship." The Vulcan seemed to consider this for a moment, looking mildly surprised. "I was no longer using it." That seemed to satisfy the Human, who laid his head back down and smiled wearily at T'Pol. "Thought I'd never s-see you again..." T'Pol took his hand reassuringly. "Obviously, you were mistaken. You should try to sleep now." Trip yawned. "Hhhmmmmm... not tired." Moments later, he was out. Sesslek's brow furrowed. "T'Pol, are you certain this man is an engineer?" "Quite certain." Sesslek raised an eyebrow. "He is perhaps the most... irrational individual I have ever met." "You have not encountered him at his best," T'Pol admitted. "However, he is quite skilled... a brilliant warp specialist, even by Vulcan standards." "Fascinating. It is very easy to underestimate these Humans." "I too misjudged them often at first. But they have a way of surprising." "Indeed." They fell silent for a time. Sesslek quietly observed the concern T'Pol obviously held for her shipmate. She continued to stroke his hand gently as she pondered their situation. This was what struck Sesslek first. Vulcans, by nature, were not tactile beings, preferring instead to observe a strong sense of privacy and personal space. T'Pol, by contrast, was maintaining an almost constant physical connection with the young man... the kind of connection that was intended to reassure both parties. The kind of connection Vulcans only allowed with their mates. As realization dawned, Sesslek was incredulous. "T'Pol... you have bonded with this Human?" T'Pol regarded the dirt floor of the cave for long moments, feeling the crushing weight of humiliation as it bore down upon her heavily. This was the moment she'd been dreading ever since she and Trip had left the Enterprise. She couldn't hide her connection with the Commander. Not from her own kind. T'Pol looked up at her former mentor with as much dignity as she could muster. "Yes." ... It was only after some hours of uncomfortably silent contemplation that Sesslek finally spoke again. "Obviously, your duties prevented you from returning to Vulcan in time for your marriage ceremony," he reasoned. "Biological imperatives no doubt necessitated a prudent, if unconventional, solution to the problem. Your actions were therefore logical, if inconvenient and... somewhat less than ideal." T'Pol looked up at him suddenly, as if in surprise. Sesslek had been quiet for so long that she'd almost forgotten he was there, preoccupied as she was with her own thoughts and with observing Commander Tucker in his sleep. She should have anticipated her mentor's line of thinking. It was only natural that he should try to apply logic to her situation. She found it momentarily flattering that he had given her the benefit of the doubt in his equations. The truth, however, was undeniable. "My actions were not logical. Koss's parents informed me that if I failed to return home at the appropriate time, our wedding would be canceled. When I was presented with an opportunity to return, I choose instead to remain on the Enterprise. My reasons were... self-serving. They were not logical." Sesslek regarded her for a moment as he digested this new revelation. Then... "It is possible... although difficult in the extreme... to break an undesirable bonding. It has been done successfully in very rare cases. But the danger to both of you would be great." T'Pol glanced back at Trip softly, then lowered her eyes once more. "I do not wish to undo this bond." Sesslek regarded her further, considering the admission she had just made. Then he sighed in resignation. "I have known you for many years, T'Pol. You have never been one to follow the path that is expected of you. But though your courage in accepting responsibility for this bonding is admirable, your actions will no doubt have... serious repercussions. You will very likely be discharged from your service to the High Command." T'Pol nodded solemnly. "I have brought shame to my family. I am already an embarrassment to them." "Yours has always been a restless nature. But you must not be ashamed of who you are. We are all who we are for many reasons. Some are known to us. Others are not. You must ask yourself why you have made these decisions. And you must not be afraid of what you may find." "There is nothing to find. In the eyes of our people, I am a disgrace. That alone is relevant." Sesslek raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I too am the subject of a certain degree of scorn among my peers on Vulcan. But I serve a greater purpose - one which I believe is vital to the future of our people. What others choose to believe is not of my concern." He glanced at her pointedly. "Always remember, T'Pol... the course of your life is yours alone to chart." T'Pol was taken aback by his comments. Sensing this, Sesslek smiled faintly in amusement. "Of course, we do not speak of such things on our world. It would not be considered logical." Something suddenly occurred to T'Pol. She glanced at Sesslek pointedly. "You still have not told me why you came to this planet." For long moments, Sesslek silently debated how much it was wise to reveal to his former protégé. He chose his words carefully. "The Andorians you encountered are pirates... renegades. The T'Hath was sent by the High Command to retrieve something from them. Something that was stolen from our people a very long time ago." Now T'Pol was even more puzzled. "Did you find that which you sought?" The cold voice that answered was not Sesslek's. "Yes... he did." The Vulcans turned suddenly in alarm. Dominas Shirv was standing in the passageway behind them, his disruptor rifle pointed squarely in their direction. The Andorian prince smiled darkly. "But now, he's going to give it back. Or all of you will die." T'Pol exchanged a silent glance with Sesslek. Then she turned back to the intruder, and interrupted just as her mentor was about to speak. "There is no reason to believe that you will allow us to live whether you get what you have come for or not." Without warning, the Andorian struck T'Pol hard across the forehead, sending her flying into the ashes of the fire. It was a testament to her Vulcan discipline that she managed to withhold a cry from the pain of the burns her hands sustained. Now Sesslek spoke. "It does not belong to you. You have no claim upon it." Shirv whirled and struck him as well, although the Vulcan barely flinched. "It's mine! I've paid your enemies dearly for it. And I will have it!" "The thing cannot be bought and sold, Dominas. What is more, where I have hidden it, you will never find it. Not in a lifetime of searching. And if I die, it is gone forever." "Then she will die first." With blinding speed, Shirv aimed his disruptor at T'Pol. There came the shrill ringing sound of unleashed energy... and then the Andorian looked down in shock at a burning hole in his chest. With a gasp, Dominas Shirv fell to his knees. He glared at Sesslek bitterly. "It's not over yet... Vulcan..." he whispered. And then he died. Lying next to Sesslek, Trip squinted frantically, his phase pistol waving back and forth in front of him. "Did I hit him?!" T'Pol quickly surveyed the fallen corpse of the Andorian. The gaping wound was still smoldering. "Yes." She stood and inspected her damaged hands. Then she turned to Trip, with a realization that sent a chill straight through her. "How long have you been awake?" Her real question hung in the air unspoken. How much did you hear? With T'Pol's assistance, Trip climbed to his feet and holstered his weapon. "Long enough." He turned to Sesslek. "So you're bleeding inside and I've been poisoned. The way I figure it, you and I are gonna die in this cave if we don't get moving now. Are you fit to travel?" Sesslek also struggled to his feet. "As you say, there is little choice. I will manage." Trip turned back to T'Pol. "Someone has to take out that interference field. Take your friend back to the shuttlepod and I'll meet you there as soon as I can..." With that, he turned and headed determinedly for the exit. But, unable to see clearly, he walked straight into the rock wall and fell back on his ass. T'Pol helped him up again. "Guess it's time for Plan B..." he admitted sheepishly. T'Pol struggled to keep a smile from her lips. "I will deactivate the interference field. You will return with Sesslek to the shuttlepod, where you can make the necessary repairs. Sesslek will act as your eyes... you can lend him your strength." The older Vulcan glanced at them both and straightened. "That arrangement will suffice." T'Pol quickly gathered their gear and put out the fire. Then Trip slung Sesslek's arm over his shoulder and they were ready to depart. As T'Pol turned to leave, Trip called after her. "Hey, T'Pol... be careful, okay? Consider it a personal favor to me." She hesitated. "I will apply caution for us both, Commander." And then she was gone. For a moment, Sesslek and Trip regarded each other uncomfortably. Then Trip cleared his throat. "Well... guess we'd better bust a move." "Indeed. The passageway is three meters to the right..." ... Thirty minutes later, Trip was already exhausted. He and Sesslek were leaving heavily against a tree, taking a brief moment to rest. They'd only gone less than a kilometer, mostly climbing down steep rocks and ice, with the wind was blowing fiercely in their faces. But judging by the glowing light on the horizon, dawn was approaching fast. Trip handed Sesslek his tricorder. "How much farther does this say?" The Vulcan glanced at the device carefully. "Two-point-four kilometers to the east." Trip nodded and pocketed the tricorder. Then he looked at his companion questioningly. "So how long have you known T'Pol?" "Her father and I are colleagues. I have know her all her life. Sixty-five years, one-hundred and eighty seven days, twelve hours--" "Damn. I knew she was old, but... damn." The Vulcan raised a skeptical eyebrow. "She is barely adult by Human standards." Trip stood and placed Sesslek's arm over his shoulders again. "Guess that's true. And she was a student of yours, you say?" "Yes." "Bet she drove you crazy sometimes, didn't she." "There were moments that necessitated a higher degree of patience..." Trip smiled. "I'll bet. Well, come on... it's all uphill from here." They trudged on in the growing light. Back to Chapter 7 Continue to Chapter 9

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.