"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 Nine For only the second time, Captain Vanik stepped through the docking airlock and boarded the Human starship, Enterprise. The destruction was immediately evident. The corridors were filled with pungent smoke. Bulkheads and wall panels were torn or blown open, exposing various conduits and sub-systems, many of them no longer functioning. Loose equipment and failed structural elements were strewn about chaotically. Damage control teams, some of them Vulcans from his own ship, were struggling to extinguish still burning fires or restore the most critical systems. Among the Humans, scores of injuries were apparent. And as he carefully made his way through the ship, Vanik saw that the dead had not yet been removed. Bodies were scattered everywhere. The Enterprise was an almost literal wreck. The ship had been drifting powerless until the Ti'Mur and Ra'Zaan had docked and stabilized it. There were great gaping holes in its hull, where Andorian disruptor fire had overloaded the ship's crude polarizers. More than a dozen compartments had been exposed to the vacuum of space. And a portion of the forward section had been destroyed in an actual collision with one of the frigates. Captain Vanik had commanded starships for much of his adult life. His career in the High Command had been long and honorable, and he'd accomplished much. He'd always fulfilled his duty with the knowledge that, sometimes, it would require that sacrifices be made. But in all his years in space, Vanik's duty had never demanded so great a sacrifice as this. That the Enterprise had survived at all was... unexpected. Logically, it should have been no match for the five frigates it had engaged, each of which was significantly better armed. It was only through the sheer audacity of its Captain that any of its crew had survived. A Vulcan commander, in similar circumstances, would never have employed such unorthodox methods of combat. Vanik himself would never have thought to deliberately collide his ship with an enemy vessel, or use docking grapplers as a offensive weapon. Some would call such tactics reckless, but Vanik had been reluctantly forced to admit that Jonathan Archer, emotional and unconventional though he may be, was a capable starship Captain. What's more, Vanik was beginning to suspect that there was more to these Humans than he had previously given them credit for. It was a most unsettling realization. But as unsettling as that might be, nothing could have disturbed Vanik more than the sight he'd been confronted with less than an hour ago on board the Ti'Mur. As part of the High Command's joint operations with Starfleet, Vanik had been asked by the Science Directorate to field test and evaluate the Humans' transporter technology. The device clearly violated several established scientific principals that had been considered sacrosanct by Vulcan physicists for centuries. And yet it worked, in defiance of all logic. When it was determined that the Enterprise's shuttlepod was in imminent danger of burning up in the planet's atmosphere, Vanik had ordered its occupants beamed aboard. It had been very, very close. The shuttlepod had actually exploded during the transport, and for long moments, it was feared that the occupants would not materialize. But when they finally did, Vanik and his officers were suddenly stunned silent. There, lying on the transport platform in visibly haggard condition, was the Enterprise's Vulcan Science Officer, T'Pol, cradling an unconscious Human officer in her arms. That the two were obviously bonded was shocking enough. But it was the waves of raw emotion that were telepathically cascading from the young Vulcan - guilt, sorrow, despair - that were the most disturbing. For a moment, T'Pol had focused on Vanik with liquid, despondent eyes. Then she had simply collapsed. Many in the Vulcan High Command held Sub-Commander T'Pol responsible for the incident on P'Jem, and Vanik counted himself among them. He had only met the young officer once before, and had treated her with a dispassionate degree of scorn. But though T'Pol might be regarded with disfavor, the fact remained that she had endured more than a year of service aboard a Human vessel - longer than any other Vulcan before or since. Though it was not spoken of, even those who held the greatest degree of disapproval for her were beginning to grudgingly admire the strength of her mental stamina and determination. So to see T'Pol, a Vulcan of obviously considerable fortitude, so completely stripped of her emotional control was disturbing in the extreme. As Vanik continued deeper into the ship, he was relieved to see Captain Sopeth of the Ra'Zaan waiting for him at a junction in the corridor. They greeted each other silently and then turned, with grim determination, in the direction of the Enterprise's Sickbay. Since none of the T'Hath's complement had survived, and the ship itself had been destroyed, it was hoped that T'Pol might have answers to certain important questions. Debriefing T'Pol had, therefore, became absolutely critical. Vanik found it somewhat ironic that the very future of the Vulcan people depended upon information that only she, despite the brand of disfavor upon her, could potentially provide... ... T'Pol sat silently in a darkened corner of Sickbay, where Phlox and the Vulcan medics had found room to keep Commander Tucker and herself close enough to monitor, but also out of the way of the efforts to save the more critically injured. Trip was lying on a small emergency stretcher next to the bio-monitor and filtering system that was even now cleansing his bloodstream of the toxins that had nearly taken his life. T'Pol sat in a chair beside him, and was gently stroking his forearm. He had not yet regained consciousness, but Phlox had told her that this was not unexpected. He had also suggested that physical touch was a good way to encourage the Human to awaken. T'Pol privately suspected that the Denobulan intended the suggestion for her benefit as well. Indeed, she found it unexpectedly reassuring to be able to openly show her affection for the Commander. It would not be considered proper by her own people, but it was exactly what she needed at the moment, and so she stubbornly chose to ignore the affront to Vulcan decorum. After all, it wasn't as if she hadn't already crossed the line of Vulcan decorum in a decidedly permanent manner. That thought actually elicited a hint of a smile. T'Pol supposed that if she were Human, she would find it quite amusing. She imagined Trip's laughter at the notion and the mental image warmed her considerably. Ever so gently, she pressed her lips to his forehead and quietly breathed in his familiar scent. Despite her Vulcan heritage, T'Pol found it difficult to remember what her life had been like before this Human had come into it. More precisely, she found it unpleasant to recall. Looking back, T'Pol knew that her life had been so... empty. She would not have seen this a year ago - could not have seen it. But then, so many things were different now. "How is he?" T'Pol looked up to see Ensign Sato standing beside her, smiling softly. It was evidence of her exhaustion that T'Pol had not heard the woman's approach. Not being Human, she felt no embarrassment at being caught in such an intimate moment. "The Doctor expects him to recover. But it will be some time before he can return to duty." T'Pol noticed that the young woman looked pale and weary. Her arm was bound in a cast and a blood-stained surgical bandage covered one side of her neck. T'Pol pulled a second chair beside hers and gestured that Hoshi sit. The Ensign accepted gratefully. "Thanks. It's really good to see a familiar face. So many people have..." She looked down. "Well... a lot of people we know didn't make it. Travis was hurt pretty bad, but he's supposed to be out of the woods soon. Malcolm's up on the Bridge, I think. He and the Captain are okay. Anyway, I guess I'm just really glad to see you. We were pretty worried about you guys." "I am gratified to see you as well, Ensign." Hoshi quickly surveyed the condition of her two commanding officers. They were each a mess of scratches and bruises, and both had suffered minor burns on their faces and hands. "It must've been pretty bad down there." "It was... difficult. But no worse than here it seems." "How are you doing?" T'Pol considered how best to reply. "The pain is tolerable." "I meant how are you feeling?" The Vulcan was too exhausted to be offended by the question. Or perhaps she had finally spent enough time among the Humans to know that no offense was intended. T'Pol glanced softly at the man to whom her life was inexorably bound. "I am... very tired." Hoshi nodded sympathetically, knowing what an admission that was for the Vulcan. For long moments, Hoshi regarded Trip silently. "He loves you very much," she finally said. T'Pol glanced over at the young Ensign, more intrigued than surprised. "How do you know this?" "Humans have a way of telling these things." Hoshi looked up and smiled at her. "Looks to me like the feeling is mutual." T'Pol looked back at Trip again. "We are bonded," she said simply. "I do... reciprocate his affections. However, I confess that I am unfamiliar with Human customs of demonstrating this." Hoshi smiled again, watching as T'Pol absently stroked the Commander's hair with her fingers. "I wouldn't worry, Sub-Commander. I think you're doing just fine..." ... Outside, in the corridor, Jonathan Archer worked frantically alongside the medical crews to help move the injured to places where they could be treated. The Enterprise's small Sickbay had never been designed to handle so many casualties at once, and so the nearby corridors, as well as the Mess Hall, had been converted into emergency triage stations. If the members of his crew were surprised to find their Captain helping to carry them, support them or simply reassure them in the face of their injuries, they were silently grateful for his presence. Archer wasn't a medic, and his medical training was limited to worst-case emergency first aid. But he'd be damned if he let a single one of his people suffer more than they already had. Not if he could do anything about it. As he helped to settle a badly wounded Ensign in the hall outside Sickbay, Archer conducted a silent survey of their losses. Based on what he'd seen, and the reports he'd gotten from Phlox and the Vulcan medics, nearly a third of the crew had already lost their lives. Twenty-two people at last count. And fully another third had sustained serious injuries, many of them critical. The thought was almost more than he could bear. Archer started to move to help carry another wounded crewman into the hall, but realized that the frightened young Ensign he'd just moved wouldn't let go of his hand. So Archer simply sat and held hers as she was treated by a Vulcan doctor. She cried out in agony as her dislocated shoulder was set right, and he squeezed her hand tightly. When she finally lost consciousness from the pain, Archer closed his eyes for a moment, struggling to fight the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. And then, as he had countless times already, Archer let his anger burn hotly until he had the strength to continue. Too many people were counting on him. Too many people had already paid the ultimate price for his failures as a Captain. He thought briefly of Lieutenant Burke, who, according to reports, had heroically guided most of the Engineering staff to safety when the starboard plasma conduit had finally ruptured, venting its plasma into space. Unfortunately, the other end of the conduit in Engineering had also ruptured, drawing the compartment's atmosphere out into space as well. The crewman who had been standing near the conduit had died instantly, but everyone else had made it out of the section as the ship's computers automatically sealed the doors. Everyone but Burke, who had waited to see the others safely out first. That loss was particularly tough to take. Archer knew that Trip would be crushed by the news when he learned of it. Strangely, that thought actually bolstered him a tiny bit, though he felt guilty for it. The sole bit of good news in all this was that both Trip and T'Pol had, against all odds, been saved. As Archer moved wearily down the line of patients looking for somewhere else to be of assistance, Captain Vanik and another Vulcan officer approached him gravely. "Captain Archer... I trust our medics and engineers have been of use?" "Yes, they have. I appreciate the help." "Of course. Whatever assistance we can provide is yours." Vanik gestured to the Vulcan standing beside him. "This is Captain Sopeth from the Ra'Zaan. We have come to speak with your Science Officer if possible. There is much we need to understand about what transpired on the surface." Archer gestured toward Sickbay, fighting down his rising anger. "She's in there. You can speak with her in a minute if she's up to it. But first I want some answers from you. What the hell was all this about? Why did the Andorians attack us? What was the T'Hath doing way out here in the first place?" Archer looked at them pointedly. "You'll forgive me if I think I've earned a little honesty from you." The Vulcans glanced at each other silently. Then Vanik turned back to Archer and replied respectfully. "Yes, Captain. We believe that you have. But, if I may suggest, Sub-Commander T'Pol's presence would greatly facilitate our discussion." Archer looked Vanik in the eyes for a long moment, searching for some evidence that the Vulcan was being forthcoming. Finally, he nodded and gestured that they follow him toward Sickbay. ... Meanwhile, T'Pol and Hoshi sat together quietly, continuing their vigil. All around them, patients were being tended to. It appeared that Phlox and Crewman Cutler, with the assistance of the Vulcan medics, had stabilized the worst cases. Now, despite the continuing flurry of activity, a strange calm had settled in the room. Both T'Pol and Hoshi were so absorbed in their thoughts that neither noticed when Trip stirred suddenly beside them. "T'Pol?" The Vulcan quickly took his hand in her own. "I am here." Disoriented, Trip tried to focus on her, but saw nothing except a dark blur against a dark background. "I can't see. Where are we?" "The Enterprise. The Vulcan ship Ti'Mur arrived in time to transport us off the shuttlepod. We received initial treatment there, and then were transferred here to Sickbay a short time ago." "Transported, huh? Damn... woulda liked to've been awake for that." "It is better that you were unconscious. The circumstances were... not pleasant." Trip read her tone of voice and grew concerned. "Are you okay?" "I sustained minor injuries. But I am much improved now that you are awake. I should get the Doctor." She moved to attract Phlox's attention, but Trip grabbed her forearm. "Wait... T'Pol?" She returned to his side once more. Hoshi stood instead. "I'll go get Phlox. Be right back..." The Ensign headed into the chaos. T'Pol watched her go for a moment, then turned back to Trip, touching his cheek. "You wished to say something?" Trip smiled. "Yeah. I love you, too." T'Pol frowned, which Trip couldn't see. But he interpreted her silence. "I heard you... on the shuttlepod, I think." He hesitated. "At least I thought I--" T'Pol squeezed his hand reassuringly. "You heard correctly, Commander." Just then, Captain Archer appeared in the doorway to Sickbay, with the Vulcan Captains in tow. He glanced around until he spotted his Science Officer. "T'Pol? Can you come out here for a moment?" "Of course, Captain." At that moment, Hoshi returned with Phlox, who quickly moved to check Trip's vital signs on the bio-monitor. T'Pol bent and kissed Trip's cheek. "Rest, ashayam. I will return in a moment..." Then the Vulcan headed for the exit. Hoshi took her place at Trip's side. "Looks you're gonna live, Commander," she said warmly. Trip turned his head in her direction. "Hoshi? That you?" "Yeah. I'm here." "What did T'Pol say just now?" Hoshi glanced briefly at the retreating figure of the Sub-Commander, as if seeing her in a new light. Then she turned back to Trip with a gentle smile. "She called you ashayam. It means beloved..." ... "You okay with this?" Archer asked his Science Officer quietly, as they turned toward the waiting Vulcans. T'Pol considered her Captain's question wearily. "It is my duty," she finally replied, simply. "Better to get it over with then I suppose. How's Trip doing?" T'Pol's voice was calm, but Archer could see the sparkle of relief in her eyes. "He is awake." "I'm glad. For both of you." He gave her a reassuring glance, before turning his attention back to the newcomers. At their approach, Vanik and Sopeth greeted T'Pol in the customary gesture of respect - raised hands with split fingers. Given the circumstances, this was something of a surprise for T'Pol, though only the slightest movement of an eyebrow betrayed it. "Your condition appears much improved, Sub-Commander. I am gratified," Vanik said politely. "Thank you, Captain. How may I be of service?" "Captain Sopeth and I have come to inquire as to what you found on the surface. There is much we need to know concerning the T'Hath and its mission." Archer spoke up pointedly. "I think that's the perfect place to start." Vanik indicated a more private section of the corridor nearby. When they were out of earshot of the others, he spoke with quiet seriousness, as if reluctant to reveal the information. "Many centuries ago, an... artifact of great significance was stolen from our planet. It has been missing ever since, although this information was not widely revealed to the Vulcan people for fear of the ramifications." T'Pol was visibly stunned by the news. As if expecting this, Vanik merely continued. "Recently, our Intelligence Directorate uncovered evidence that this artifact had fallen into the hands of a pirate cartel, run by a disowned member of the Andorian ruling clan. The T'Hath was dispatched to determine the veracity of this evidence and recover the artifact if possible." Archer was equally stunned, but for different reasons. He glanced at the Vulcans angrily. "You're telling me that a third of my crew is dead because of some religious relic?" Sopeth interjected, trying to impress upon Archer the seriousness of the issue. "Not just a relic, Captain... an object of the utmost importance to the Vulcan people. The very fabric of our society depends upon its existence." T'Pol was clearly unsettled. "The Andorian you refer to is dead. When he confronted us on the surface, Sesslek spoke of something he had hidden... something the Andorian was willing to kill us for." At this, Sopeth exchanged an almost awed glance with Vanik. "Then the rumors are true." He turned back to T'Pol. "When did you come into contact with Agent Sesslek?" "Shortly after we found the T'Hath. Sesslek was the sole survivor of the crash." Vanik glanced at her thoughtfully. "You speak of Agent Sesslek with a degree of familiarity." "He was my mentor at the Science Academy and has long been an associate of my father. I have known him all my life." "Indeed. Would you say that he trusted you?" T'Pol was taken aback. "I believe that to be the case. But he died before he had the opportunity to tell me anything." Sopeth spoke again patiently. "Sesslek knew the importance of his mission. If he trusted you, it is possible that he passed information to you in such way as to leave you unaware that the exchange had occurred." T'Pol considered this for a moment. Then she seemed to remember something. From a hidden pocket in her sleek uniform, she removed something, holding it in the palm of her hand. "I do not believe Sesslek attempted what you suggest. But if it is relevant to the matter at hand, Commander Tucker and I discovered this in the wreckage of the T'Hath before it was destroyed..." She opened her hand to reveal the shard of dark glass, covered in gold script. And now it was Vanik and Sopeth's turn to react in stunned silence. Vanik took the shard from her reverently, examining it with visible shock. The two Captains appeared almost disconsolate, their faces revealing more emotion than Archer had ever seen from Vulcans before. "Is this a piece of what you're looking for?" he asked them tentatively. Vanik replied quietly. "This... is a fragment of the containment vessel. The contents alone were of importance. However... I believe we must now face the possibility that the contents have been... irrevocably lost." T'Pol and Archer glanced at each other, unsure of what to make of this. Just then, the doorway to Sickbay hissed open behind them and Hoshi appeared, looking worried. When she spotted T'Pol, she called out urgently. "It's Commander Tucker. I think you should come right away..." ... T'Pol was the first to reach his side, hovering over Trip with obvious concern. Hoshi and the others were close behind. "He just started speaking suddenly in Vulcan," Hoshi was explaining. "But I can only understand tiny bits of it - it's a dialect I've never heard before." Trip lay on the stretcher, staring at the ceiling. His lips were moving slowly, whispering words that he couldn't possibly know or understand. "...Ma etek natyan - teretuhr lau etek shetau weh-lo'uk do tum t'on..." Archer looked to Phlox in alarm. "Do you know what's causing this, Doctor?" Phlox's expression was one of puzzlement. "I have no idea, Captain. I merely gave him a mild sedative to help him rest. Then he seemed to enter a trance-like state and began mumbling as you hear him now." T'Pol moved closer, holding her ear close to Trip's lips, listening. "...Spunau bolayalar t'Wehku bolayalar t'Zamu il t'Veh..." Her eyes suddenly went wide. "I have heard these words before. Sesslek spoke them on the surface before he died." Phlox and the Humans looked at her in confusion... but the Vulcans seemed to realize what this meant. Both Vanik and Sopeth looked suddenly hopeful, taking great interest in this new development. Archer merely frowned at her. "I'm afraid I don't understand." Vanik approached him. "If I may explain, Captain. It is possible that your officer has been given a katra. The living essence of a Vulcan's being. What your people would call a soul." "A soul?! Belonging to who? Sesslek?" "Yes, Captain. Sesslek may have transferred his katra to your Commander just before he died, so that the information he had learned would be preserved. If that is the case, it is imperative that we return to Vulcan at once. Only there can that which was Sesslek be safely removed... and preserved." Phlox perked up considerably at the prospect of such an unusual phenomena. "Fascinating. Is there Vulcan medical literature on this subject...?" As the others spoke in fervent, hushed tones behind her, T'Pol suddenly knew what she must do. Kneeling beside her lover, she guided her fingertips tenderly over his familiar features. Instinctively, she found the path into his mind, and gently allowed her consciousness to merge with his. As the sensations of being in Sickbay faded into the periphery, she began searching carefully, warily, for her mentor's presence. And then she suddenly gasped aloud, stunned at what she found. Archer quickly moved to help T'Pol, who was visibly shuddering with effort, but Phlox and Vanik restrained him. He was about to protest, when T'Pol suddenly threw her head back and seemed to enter the same trance-like state as Trip. In unison, they both spoke aloud. "We are the path to enlightenment... the voice of logic... the light of reason..." Sopeth moved closer to the joined pair, addressing them reverently. "I speak to that which was Sesslek. I seek the knowledge of his final days so that--" "We are not Sesslek. That which was Sesslek no longer exists. He has sacrificed himself so that we might survive." Now Sopeth's eyes went wide, his next, whispered question a prayer for the most unthinkable of possibilities. "Who are you?" The Vulcan woman and her Human mate answered as one... their reply a revelation. "We are that which was Surak." And as their words lingered in the air, it suddenly became very, very quiet in Sickbay... Back to Chapter 8 Continue to Chapter 10

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