One Universe Over

[dragonfan]

Chapter 15

The VIP quarters on Enterprise were small suites with a bedroom, bath and sitting room. Trip knew which one had been set aside for his parents and went there after a quick stop at his quarters to clean up. He hadn't left sickbay from the time he and the others had returned from Coridan and he hadn't had a chance to shower or change his uniform. He wasn't sure just what kind of reception he was going to get. While his parents knew that T'Pol was Vulcan and he knew that they had been studying Vulcan culture, Trip wasn't thrilled that their first real experience with Vulcans had been the scene in sickbay.

Charles opened the door and motioned Trip into the suite. "We need to talk son," he said sternly.

"I know Dad, that's why I'm here," Trip said. He saw that his mother was sitting on the small couch under the porthole. She was knitting furiously and he tried his best not to wince. Catherine Tucker did fabric crafts for fun and to keep her fingers nimble. Knitting was also her form of meditation. From the fast way she was knitting Trip knew that she was very upset. "I'm sorry you had to see that Momma."

"But you're not sorry you did it?" she wanted to know. Her needles never stopped.

Trip sighed; this was going to be harder than he thought. "I'm sorry I needed to do it Momma," he tried to explain. "I never want to have to do that again. But it was necessary for me to do it. That is the only way to bring a Vulcan out of a healing trance and it was my responsibility to do that for T'Pol."

"What's a healing trance and why was she in it to begin with?" Charles asked. He sat on the arm of the couch next to Catherine and crossed his arms. Trip had better have a better explanation than 'it was medically necessary' to hit T'Pol.

"T'Pol is Jon's first officer and she's also the one person on board with the most deep space experience. While a lot of the area we've been exploring out here is new to all of us, some of the planets we've stopped at are known to Vulcans. Coridan is one of the later. Jon went down to Coridan and he took T'Pol with him, leaving me in charge here on Enterprise. None of us knew that Coridan is in the middle of a civil war, one side being backed by the Vulcans and one side being backed by the Andorians."

Trip sighed, "It's a real mess down there and they walked right into it. Lieutenant Reed and I went down to get them out and so did Captain Sopek with a few of his security people. We all ended up in a fire fight but T'Pol was hurt the worst. She deliberately took a plasma bullet for Captain Sopek. She saved his life and Dr. Phlox saved hers. When Vulcans are badly injured or they require surgery they go into something called a healing trance. I don't know the details; just that it allows them to focus their energy on healing the injured area. Phlox explained to me that a Vulcan needs help to come out of the trance."

"So hitting her was helping her?" Catherine asked scornfully.

"Yes and as T'Pol's bondmate it is my responsibility to be the one to provide that help. Dr. Phlox is a good man and a great doctor," Trip told her earnestly. "He offered to provide the necessary stimulation as they call it so I wouldn't have to. But you taught me not to back down from my responsibilities and I wasn't about to start with the very first time I was asked to act like a Vulcan bondmate for T'Pol. She trusted me to do the job and to make sure it was done right without hurting her. I know that there are going to be a lot of times that I'll need to act like a Vulcan for her. Hopefully I won't be asked to do something that awful again. The only way I could get through with it was to think of it as Vulcan first aid."

Catherine's needles started to slow. "It really was necessary?"

"Yes Momma. In some ways Vulcans are really different from us, although they aren't in others. I'm still learning and I probably will be my entire life." Trip watched as they began to absorb just how different Vulcans were. He knew that they would have been focusing their concerns on the idea that Vulcans didn't have emotions. His mother in particular would have been worried about his becoming married to a woman who not only didn't love him but never could. He had hopes of teaching them how wrong that was but they had to get through this first. This incident would be showing them how different Vulcans were physically beyond the pointed ears and green blood.

"Are you sure you want to marry this woman Trip?" Charles asked. The more he learned about Vulcans the more concerned he got. Who knew what else this woman would be having him do and where it would lead?

Trip smiled, thinking back on his and T'Pol's argument over the children's names and their discussion in sickbay. "Yeah Dad, I'm sure. She's a wonderful woman and the more I learn about her the more fascinated I get. Of course, she's as stubborn as a Missouri mule but even our arguments are fun." It was the last that finally reassured the Tuckers that Trip was indeed in love with T'Pol and that he had only done what was necessary for her health. He would never have said that their arguments were fun if they had involved violence. They also knew that as long as he was in love with her he would go through with marrying her. Trip may have said that his bride to be was as stubborn as a mule but that was a perfect example of the pot calling the kettle black!

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Having showered and changed into her civilian clothes, T'Pol was sitting in her mother's quarters drinking tea with her mother and her mother's attendant. T'Lan had been a part of her family for as long as T'Pol could remember, having begun her service when T'Les assumed the position of Clan Mother. They had brought Vulcan Spice Tea, knowing that T'Pol probably hadn't had any for a while and that it was her favorite. "Captain Sopek informed me of your actions. You have carried out your duties in an exemplary manner." T'Les said.

T'Pol bowed her head in acknowledgement and waited for the other shoe to drop. She was momentarily distracted by the thought, but realized that it was only that she had begun to incorporate a few of Trip's favorite sayings into her mental landscape. "I had been concerned that Commander Tucker would not be able to fulfill his duties as your bondmate."

'There it was,' T'Pol thought. "Trip is more than capable and we have been able to compromise on many subjects, although not without vigorous discussion."

T'Les nodded. "I have observed that he has done his duty to you even when it was repulsive to him. It is a fine beginning." T'Pol was merely grateful that T'Les had not entered sickbay earlier. Her mother would have seen Trip caressing her ear. She was going to have to explain to Trip just why he should never touch her ears in public again. Thinking about it now, she should have realized that she was responding to Trip as her bondmate when she had allowed him to coat her ears in decon gel. She could have coated them herself. She wondered if Humans had places on their bodies that were as sensitive as Vulcan ears were. "His parents did not seem to be pleased however," T'Les said.

"I am certain it is only because they were not aware of the necessity of Trip's actions. They will understand once he has had a chance to explain why such actions are necessary to them. They have done their best to raise Trip to be an honorable man and they have succeeded." T'Pol explained.

"Your letter stated that you intended to follow Vulcan tradition for the first year of your marriage. Has Commander Tucker agreed to this?" T'Les asked. She did not want her daughter to be pushed into intimacy that she was not ready for. From what she had been told Humans were a very promiscuous species.

"He has agreed, although like with most things we have had to compromise. He will be moving into my quarters after our wedding. But we have already begun to increase our awareness of each other. We will be dancing at the reception after the wedding and the activity requires more touch than I would normally be able to accept on my wedding day." She was not going to mention that they had also begun neuropressure sessions. Her mother did not need to know that.

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The only room on Enterprise big enough to hold the wedding was the mess hall once it had been emptied of about half the tables. T'Les had been instructed on her role in the wedding and was trying to help T'Pol into the Human style wedding dress, along with Hoshi and Catherine Tucker. The dress itself was simple enough to understand but T'Les was baffled by the veil.

"I do not understand the reasoning behind this item," T'Les said holding the veil in her hands.

"These days it is simply a part of the dress," Catherine explained, "just like the garter and the flowers she'll be holding. Almost everything involved in a wedding has centuries of traditions and adaptations of other traditions behind them. I believe the veil was originally made to hide the identity of the bride, either from demons or her family's enemies, I'm not sure which."

"I can see the flowers but what is a garter?" T'Les asked. This wedding was more confusing than she had imagined when she had been given the details of what was expected of her.

"Garters used to hold up a woman's stockings," Hoshi explained. "Now a single garter is used in the tradition of fortune telling who will be the next man to be married. No one believes in the fortune but it is a fun tradition. The flowers are used in much the same way for the women."

"It's time," Hess stuck her head in to announce and cut off yet another question T'Les would have asked. T'Les settled the veil on T'Pol's hair and Catherine handed her the bouquet. Then they walked to the entrance of the mess hall and waited for Hess and Catherine to slip in and take their seats.

Standing in front of Archer, Trip tugged at the collar of his dress uniform. He still didn't know if T'Pol was going to be wearing her dress uniform or not. Hoshi wouldn't tell him and neither would Malcolm. He had no opinion either way, he was certain that she would look beautiful no matter what she wore.

Then the music started and he turned to watch the ladies come down the aisle. He had not seen T'Pol since she had been released from sickbay. Hoshi and his mother had been determined that they would not see each other before the wedding. As Hoshi laughingly explained, Trip had enough bad luck for both of them, they didn't need any more.

Hoshi wore her dress uniform and somehow made it look like she had spent a fortune at a custom dressmaker's. "Dear Lord!" whispered Malcolm. Trip barely glanced at her. He was too busy trying to get his first glimpse of T'Pol to realize just how taken Malcolm was with the Maid of Honor. Then the two Vulcan women started down the aisle. Trip barely glanced at the traditional robes that T'Les was dressed in. He was completely floored by the vision of T'Pol in white silk.

Her dress was as demure as a Victorian maiden's; with a two inch high collar, sleeves that came down to her wrists and a floor length skirt that was covered in some type of lace. She was the most beautiful thing Trip had ever seen. He could clearly see her face through her cloud like veil, (and where in the world had they found the materiel he wondered?) that flowed down from under a circlet made from something white.

So absorbed in watching T'Pol, Trip almost missed the ceremony. T'Les handed T'Pol to him and answered Archer's ceremonial question before sitting down next to T'Lan and Captain Sopek. Trip didn't hear a word; all he could do was stand there in awe until T'Pol grew annoyed at his lack of attention to the ceremony and pinched him. He started and came back to himself just as Archer asked him if he was willing to take T'Pol as his wife. For him there was only one answer, "I do," and he once more let himself pay more attention to T'Pol than to the ceremony.

Finally Malcolm, seeing that Trip wasn't paying attention to anything other than T'Pol, pried his hand away from hers when Archer asked for the rings. That part of the ceremony went off as planed; although the kiss was the most modest he had ever seen. It looked like he had lost a sizeable bet to Hoshi. He could have sworn the old boy would have really laid one on her, Vulcan or not.

[dragonfan]

Chapter 16

A/N: To my everlasting shame, my muse gave me a song fic chapter! Here's the reception and the song is Disney's Beauty and the Beast from the movie. I do not know who wrote it but Angela Lansbury sang it and Disney owns it.




Chef had outdone himself with the foods for the reception. The menu was vegetarian with everything from edible Earth flowers to traditional Vulcan wedding foods to an enormous cake that had frosting that wasn't too sweet for the Vulcan guests to eat. Catherine was in her element, recording the entire event to take home for the rest of the family to watch.

The reception traditions went off without a hitch. The eating of the cake was done with decorum, much to some of the younger crew's disgust. They had wanted to see at least one of the senior officers with cake all over their face. T'Pol threw her bouquet and Hoshi caught it, much to the envy of most of the women. Trip was of the silent opinion that T'Pol had done it deliberately. He was sure that making the calculations for such a shot would be easy for her. And Hoshi had done so much hard work in getting this wedding planned, including tutoring the bride.

When it came time for Trip to fling the garter, most of the men were disappointed to see her hand it to him. She had been wearing it, not around her thigh, but around her wrist. She had pointed out to Hoshi that for a Vulcan, it was far closer to the most intimate part of her body, her mind. Hoshi had laughingly agreed. T'Pol hadn't known why Hoshi had laughed but as soon as Trip took the garter she heard the men groaning and laughing. She surmised that for some reason they had wanted to see her thighs. Humans could be so odd at times.

The wedding presents were generally small objects, an artifact that someone had picked up here or there, a copy of an Engineering text that Trip didn't have or a Science one that T'Pol didn't and similar items. A few were handmade, like the wedding quilt that the Tucker's had brought from Earth and the Vulcan Harp that T'Les had brought. The other Vulcan guests had been informed of this custom and had also brought small items, mostly food as they knew T'Pol would not have access to food from home, serving as she did on a Human starship.

Once all the gifts were opened and the givers thanked, Hoshi stood up and walked over to the wall computer. "I'm sure that SubCommander T'Pol and Commander Tucker would like to get out of the spotlight but I've picked out a special song for them to start off the dancing with. To me this song exemplifies the rocky journey they have had traveling from disdainful allies to loving bondmates." Then she had the computer start the music and began to sing. Trip held out his hand and T'Pol took it as they traveled to the makeshift dance floor.





Tale as old as time
True as it can be
Barely even friends
Then somebody bends
Unexpectedly
Just a little change
Small to say the least
Both a little scared
Neither one prepared
Beauty and the Beast

Ever just the same
Ever a surprise
Ever as before
Ever just as sure
As the sun will rise

Tale as old as time
Tune as old as song
Bittersweet and strange
Finding you can change
Learning you were wrong
Certain as the sun
Rising in the east
Tale as old as time
Song as old as rhyme
Beauty and the Beast

Tale as old as time
Song as old as rhyme
Beauty and the Beast


The song confused the heck out of the Vulcans but the Humans thought it was both hilarious and accurate. Although for such a pointed song, few could say who had been the Beauty and who had been the Beast in that relationship. They had both taken on either role at one time or another. T'Les looked over at Catherine who was still busy recording. "I do not believe that calling one member of a just wedded couple 'Beast' is a good thing. Is there some significance I have missed?" Captain Sopek and T'Lan looked like they agreed but could not bring themselves to ask.

Catherine laughed and handed the recorder to her husband. "Don't miss anything honey. I want to make sure that the kids can see it all even if they can't be here." Then she turned to T'Les. "Do your people have teaching tales?" she asked.

"Yes, we have many such tales," T'Les said, although she still did not see what that had to do with the song or the relevance to the wedding.

"Beauty and the Beast is an ancient fairy tale that teaches not to judge by a person's appearance." Catherine quickly told the fascinated Vulcans the tale of the merchant's daughter and the enchanted prince. "This song is from a classic telling of the tale and is about when their tentative friendship turns to love, much like what happened to our children. One moment they are barely friends and the next they're bondmates."

The Vulcans listened fascinated not only by the tale but the lessons that it taught as well about hospitality, bravery and honor. These were things that were prized in Vulcan culture. This was an ancient tale from a people the High Command called little more than barbarians? A species that would not be civilized enough to truly enter the galaxy on their own for centuries?

T'Les reviewed the words of the song and admitted that they could indeed be applied to her daughter's unexpected bonding. Even Surak would have agreed that this situation was more than sufficient cause for her daughter to be a little scared. Bonding with an offworlder had long been thought to be a mark of perversion. But T'Pol had a Pudvel-tor katelau tel; the bond had formed on its own making it a bond created by the Other, the one who created the Elements. To call that perverted was to call the Other such and no Vulcan could do so. Change was coming to Vulcan, whether anyone liked it or not.

The dance continued well into the ship's night, long after Trip and T'Pol had left. Malcolm eagerly monopolized Hoshi for the evening while all around them crewmen were starting conversations with the Vulcan guests. Archer sat down at the table that held the wedding party. "I'm so glad that's over."

"This part is you mean," Charles chuckled. "We still have to get through a reception back on Earth and the wedding on Vulcan too. I bet you never thought that you'd be marrying Trip off did you?"

"Oh Lord no!" Archer laughed. "I never thought I'd ever meet anyone who could match him; much less put up with him." He sighed in satisfaction. "And I never thought that I'd be in a position to be the one to perform the ceremony. I always thought that if by some miracle he did find someone who'd say yes to him I'd be his best man."

"You did a fine job Jon," Charles said, "and whoever it was that arranged most of this needs to be complemented as well. Who did you get to do most of this? I know you were too busy and T'Pol really wouldn't have known everything that needed to be done for a Human wedding; although I'm sure she could have pulled off a Vulcan one."

"Ensign Hoshi Sato, the Maid of Honor," Archer said as he pointed her out. "She's our communications officer. She's a savant when it comes to languages. She can learn a new language in a matter of hours. Sometimes she can learn enough to make herself understood in a matter of minutes. She's a critical part of this crew."

"They all are according to Trip," Catherine said.

"May I ask why is it you call your son Trip?" T'Les asked.

"It is the custom in some Human families to name a son after the father. This can continue to outrageous lengths, although that doesn't happen often. My father-in-law, Charlie was the first to be named Charles Tucker. My husband, his son, is the second. My son is the third, and Trip is a shortened form of triple. He says that he doesn't mind his nickname but he won't be naming one of his sons Charles the fourth."

Archer chuckled. "T'Pol says they are and odds are running about 80% in her favor at the moment."

"Are your people betting on children already?" Charles asked amazed.

"A specialist I really can't tell you about since it's classified, genetically engineered them some children. They're already arguing names because T'Pol is insisting they be named before you leave for Earth. They're sending some of them with you and some with Lady T'Les," Archer nodded at T'Pol's mother, "to make sure that if something happens then some of the children will survive. That way if the worst is to happen, you'll just need a Vulcan surrogate to carry them to term."

"And they would know that their parents cared enough to name them before they died," Catherine whispered. "She's right; they should be named before we leave."

"Yes, but Trip's still holding out for anything but Charles the fourth!" Archer said with a laugh.

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Trip and T'Pol Tucker had finally been able to sneak off to their quarters and the argument that had been put on hold due to their time in sickbay was once more going strong. "No, T'Pol." Trip said as he changed.

"Yes, and we need to make a decision. He's the last one to be named." T'Pol hung up her dress and looked at the very odd pillow that was currently resting on her bunk.

"Anything but Charles the Fourth, I don't know and I don't really care," Trip said as he left the bathroom. Picking out 21 names both male and female had worn out his imagination. He saw where she was staring. "That's a body pillow. I'm what we Humans call a snuggler. That means that I hug whoever is in my bed with me while I'm asleep. With the pillow there I'll hug it and not you. I don't want to make you any more uncomfortable than I have to."

T'Pol was touched by his understanding of her reluctance with the situation. "Why do you not wish our son to be named for you?" she asked, wanting to understand his reluctance. She had not directly asked before.

"Because being named anything the fourth makes for a bad nickname. There is no way I'm sentencing our son to be called Quad," Trip said. She looked blankly at him. "Trip is short for Triple."

T'Pol considered this new information. She had not known that some nicknames could be 'bad'. "What are the other options for a nickname?" she asked.

"Charlie is the easiest," Trip said.

"Then his nickname shall be Charlie," T'Pol said firmly.

Trip gave in. "Ok, ok, Charles the Fourth it is." He was far too tired to argue anymore. Besides he didn't want to have to explain that parents really didn't have that much say over a nickname.

"Trip; there is something that I must explain to you." T'Pol said as they lay down on their bunk, one on either side of the long pillow.

"What?" Trip said sleepily. It had been an exhausting day.

"I have not had time to speak with you in private. You must never touch my ears in public again," T'Pol said firmly. She couldn't look at him while she spoke.

"Why not? I know that we really haven't gotten that far yet but I like your ears."

"Because for Vulcans it is an intimate area," T'Pol said, flushing a little green as she did so.

Trip pulled the pillow closer to him and looked over it at her. He saw her blush and realized just what he had done. 'Great going Trip, grope your girl in public!' "Ok sweetheart, I didn't know that. I'll wait until you're more comfortable with me to touch you there and I won't do it in public again," he promised.

"Thank you, good night."

"Night."

[dragonfan]

Chapter 17

A/N: This chapter is almost entirely dialog and almost entirely taken directly from the episode 'Shuttlepod One'. As the episode itself was almost entirely dialog there wasn't much other choice for me.



"It's going to be fine T'Pol, nothing's going to go wrong," Trip said as he came out of the shower and headed for the closet. He and Malcolm were scheduled to take a five day trip in Shuttlepod One to test the new targeting scanners. They needed to be at least 20,000 kilometers away from Enterprise during the tests, thus the long trip away from the ship and more importantly right now, his bondmate.

T'Pol glared at his back from her position on the floor where she had been trying to meditate. "I am aware that this mission is one you refer to as a 'milk run'. I am not concerned about your ability to complete the mission."

"Then what has you so upset?" he asked, pulling on his uniform. He caught her glare this time and amended, "I mean what has you so concerned? I do realize that upset is an emotion." One of these days she was going to realize that he just wasn't going to stop referring to things from an emotional perspective.

"I do not," she paused to consider her choice of words and realized that she could not say that she did not have any concerns. "Being parted from you for any length of time is difficult during this time of our bonding. That is why bondmates are not parted on Vulcan during their first year of marriage."

Trip smiled gently. "I'm going to miss you too. I'll be back soon." He brushed his fingers across her lips in a Vulcan kiss before settled down in front of her on the other side of the meditation candle. Focusing on getting their breathing in synch, they began to meditate together before heading off for their duty shifts. They both had their duties and both would fulfill them to the best of their ability, even if they didn't want to.

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SHUTTLEPOD 1

On board Shuttlepod One Malcolm Reed was sitting at the pilot's station while Trip Tucker was examining some damaged circuitry with a laser. "The Captain said they'd be mapping this asteroid field, but I can't see head nor tails of them."

"Maybe it's another asteroid field," Tucker said unconcerned.

"No, this is the one. Two primaries, seventeen planetesimals," Malcolm said.

"Well, they weren't expecting us back for three days. Maybe they finished and went off to do something else."

"Well, with our sensor array down, we won't know when they get back until we see them. Any luck with the comm?" Malcolm asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Dead as a doornail. I don't understand it." Trip complained.

"Well, no doubt you'll have your boys take this pod apart piece by piece once it's back in the launch bay." Malcolm was sure that with the proper tools and support Trip would have it fixed in no time.

"I'd feel a lot more comfortable having everything in working order by the time Enterprise gets back. T'Pol's been as worried as she gets about this mission. The last thing I want is for her to be able to say 'I told you so' when we get back."

"Well, tinker all you like. I've got a copy of Ulysses here. I doubt I'll even be halfway through it by the time the ship gets back." Malcolm picked up his PADD with the novel.

"I'd rather realign every micro-circuit on this shuttle than try to wade through that baby." Trip shuddered theatrically.

"British schools have a core curriculum. It serves to provide a well-rounded education. Sometimes I think you North Americans read nothing but comic books and those ridiculous science fiction novels."

"I'll have you know that Superman was laced with metaphor. Subtext layered on subtext," Trip said with a laugh.

"I'm not sure I want to know what sort of subtext you're referring to Commander!" Malcolm said with a smirk.

"Hey! Get your mind out of the gutter! I'm referring to the great battles between good and evil and..."

Malcolm looked out window during Trip's rebuttal and interrupted, "Commander."

"the potential in every person for both," Trip continued.

"Commander, I think you'd better come and take a look at this." Reed once more reverted to the professional naval officer he was. Outside the window a large asteroid could be seen. On its surface was a large crash site.

"Bring us in closer." Trip leaned over Reed's shoulder for a better view.

"Is it a ship?" Reed asked, hoping that it wasn't. He prayed that it wasn't the ship that he knew it probably was.

"If the damned sensors were only working, we could," Trip paused as he saw something. "Bring us around again. There. Slow down." On the surface they could see a large piece of metal with the numbers 01 on it. They both froze for a moment in grief.


READY ROOM

Captain Archer sat at his desk in his ready room and answered the door chime. "Come in. How are the Tesnians doing?" he asked Hoshi as she walked in.

"Dr. Phlox can only keep twelve of them in the Decon chamber at a time," she said, sitting down in front of him.

"What about the other, what it is it, 22?" he asked concerned.

"He's rotating them. They seem to be doing fine on our atmosphere but they need at least 6 hours of boron gas a day. He says we've got enough to get them home," Hoshi assured him.

"Have you learned their language?" Archer asked both teasing and serious.

"Yes sir," she answered primly.

"What do they have to say?"

Hoshi sighed, "They're pretty rattled. Most of them have been on that ship for years. It's a lot to digest, they lost everything."

Archer agreed but, "They're alive. Does the Captain have any idea what happened?"

"No, and he feels terrible about the damage to Enterprise. He has no idea what went wrong. When they approached our docking port they lost control of their sensor array and then a few seconds later their navigations system went out," she gestured hopelessly.

"Thank God their escape pods were working." Archer didn't want to think about what might have happened.

Hoshi agreed, "I saw the wreckage on the asteroid. There wasn't much left."

Archer reached over and activated the comm. "Archer to Mayweather. What's our ETA?"

"We should reach Tesnia in about 20 hrs, sir."

Archer nodded even if Travis couldn't see him. "Good work. That should get us back to our rendezvous co-ordinates well before Trip and Malcolm get there. Let's drop out of warp for a few minutes. I want to inspect the damage to the launch doors."

"Aye, sir."


INSPECTION POD

Archer was piloting the inspection pod while T'Pol was manning the pod's scanners. He peered up at the Enterprise's hull. "Who's in charge of Engineering while Trip's away?"

T'Pol answered him without looking up from her scanners, "Lt. Hess."

"Tell her to get a team working on a new starboard door for launch bay two." Archer shuddered at the sight of the gaping hole and twisted metal where the launch door used to be. "Everything else check out all right?"

"Astrometrics detected what could be micro-singularities in the vicinity of the asteroid field." Archer had noticed that the longer Trip was gone the shorter and more succinct T'Pol's answers were getting.

"Aw crap! Those are nasty buggers. Has Enterprise sustained any damage that could be caused by one?" Archer asked worried.

"No, but our hull plating was polarized."

"Keep an eye out. I don't want to end up like the last ship we rescued after running into one." 'Even if it did have a positive effect in the end running into the other Enterprise like we did,' he thought.


SHUTTLEPOD

Tucker asked, "How about the lifeboats? They could have launched the lifeboats before the crash."

Reed didn't want to give Trip any false hope. "They'd be here. They only travel 300 kph away from their launch site. They'd be right here waiting for us to return." Malcolm knew that they were all dead, killed in the crash.

Trip refused to believe that everyone was dead. His bond with T'Pol would have let him know the moment she died. "Our sensors are out and we don't know when this happened. They could be right around the corner and we'd never know it!"

Reed said softly, "Commander, there are no survivors. We have to figure out what we're going to do."

"T'Pol's not dead! I'd know if she was! We can't just leave. If we can find the black boxes we might be able to figure out where the lifeboats are." Trip wasn't going to give up without a fight.

"With what? We have no radio. Nothing to pick up the beacons and I'm sorry Commander, you're just going to have to accept that we're all that's left." Reed really was sorry. He knew just how much Trip loved his wife.

Trip ignored Reed's insistence on the crew's deaths and asked, "What's the range in our distress beacon?

"It's offline." Reed reminded.

"I'm talking about the portable one, the one in the away kit." Trip explained.

"10 million kilometers, maybe 20, but I highly doubt there'd be a ship anywhere close to that." Reed knew how bleak their chances were.

"The lifeboats have stasis berths. They can wait until someone finds them," Trip said. "We have to make sure that happens. We've only got 10 days worth of breathable air. How far to Echo 3?"

"At impulse? A lot more than 10 days."

"Well, if we could get close enough for it to pick up our distress beacon it'd relay the signal back to Starfleet."

Reed hated to let his friend down but he had to. "I'm afraid the math doesn't work out, Commander. It's going to take weeks, maybe months for our signal to reach Echo 3. By the time Starfleet got a ship out here we'd be; we'd be long dead."

"But at least they'd find us and they'd go looking for the lifeboats."

"Sir," Reed had to make Tucker see reality.

"Which way?" Trip demanded.

"Which way to what?" Reed asked.

"Echo 3. Which way to Echo 3?"

Reed sighed, "I told you, it's too far."

Tucker gritted his teeth. "Do you know which direction it is or don't you?"

"Navigation is down."

"That's not what I asked you." Tucker growled.

"You want me to guess?" Reed asked waving his hands at the stars that could be seen.

"You come from a long line of Navy men and you got a real good memory. Look hard at those stars, find something that looks familiar and tell me which way to go." Tucker said pointing out the window.

"Sir."

"That's an order!" Trip almost shouted.

Reed gave in. "I don't suppose you have a sextant handy."

Tucker smirked, "I left it with my slide rule." He watched as Reed sat down in the pilot's seat. "Well?"

Reed waved a hand at the window. "That blue giant, we may have gone by it. I'm not sure."

"That's good enough for me. Take one more low pass over the wreckage and then set a course." As they swooped down over the 01 sign, Tucker said, "I'll make sure someone finds you, all of you."

[dragonfan]

Chapter 18

SHUTTLEPOD 1

Malcolm was dictating into his personal log. "Personal Log, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed. November 9, 2151. By the time anyone hears this, by anyone, I suppose I mean anyone Human, Commander Tucker and I will be long dead. It is my intention to recount the events that led to the destruction of the Starship Enterprise and to express my deepest feelings regarding my short but memorable service with Starfleet.

Tucker threw over his shoulder, "Tell them I'd love to add my two cents, but I'm trying to get a little work done."

Malcolm rewound his log. "short but memorable service with Starfleet. In order to test the targeting scanners on Shuttlepod One, Commander Tucker and I had to get at least 20,000 kilometers from Enterprise. During our third trial, we experienced a brief but sizeable jolt, and shortly thereafter realized that our sensor array had gone offline."

Trip interrupted, "This sensor array is more than offline. It's totally fried."

Malcolm decided that there wasn't any point in trying to edit out Trip's ad lib's. The man would just make more. "We had no choice but to head back to the asteroid field where Enterprise was involved in a mapping project. We found the ship destroyed, its debris strewn across a square kilometer of one of the larger asteroids. Had our sensors been working we certainly would have done everything possible to determine the cause of the disaster, but as it was, with only a short-range distress beacon and limited air, we had no alternative but to set a course for Echo Three where someday this vessel and eventually this log, will be found. May God have mercy on our souls."

Tucker sighed impatiently. "Why don't you cut the crap and get back here and help me? I keep telling you, some of them survived. We just have to find a way to make sure that we're all found."

"What would you like me to do?" Reed asked. It wasn't like he had a lot of important duties to perform out here anyway.

"I don't know. You could hold this flashlight, or turn down the heat. Whatever you want. I'm just getting a little tired of listening to all your pessimism."

"If there's something you need me to do I would be more than happy to comply, but I'm afraid pessimism is simply not an accurate description of my log entry. I'm just being realistic, Commander. They're all dead and so are we," Reed said snippily.

"T'Pol's not dead. How many times do I have to tell you that? And we've got nine days. We're bound to find someone out here."

"At warp perhaps, but at impulse?" Reed asked. There was just no way and he knew it. They were both dead men and he wished that Tucker would realize that.

"Then someone can run into us. You ever think of that? Or see us on their sensors. The possibilities are endless," Tucker pointed out.

Reed got up and walked the few short steps over to the other side of the pod. "I'll heat up some rations. What are you in the mood for?"

"Depends, what are you serving?"

Malcolm picked up a few packages and started reading labels, "Veal marsala, chilean sea bass, moo goo gai pan,"

Tucker looked up, "Got any meatloaf?"

"With gravy and mashed potatoes," Malcolm held up the package.

"Perfect."

"And Kentucky Bourbon for desert," Malcolm said holding up the bottle.

Trip shrugged. "Yeah, Jon was planning to give that to somebody, can't remember who. Guess it's ours now."


LATER

Malcolm was writing letters. "Captain Archer claims you told him you weren't even aware that I was serving on Enterprise. I find that difficult to believe, considering I wrote you twice in the weeks prior to our departure. Now, it is possible that you never received those letters. You were, I believe, in the process of moving back to Malaysia at the time. But you must have spoken to Aunt Sherry during that period, and I know she received my letters. I would hate to go to my death thinking that either of you felt I was trying to avoid,"

"Malcolm! You've been at it for hours now. Don't you think it's time to give it a rest?" Tucker growled.

"As I'm sure you must have heard that was my esteemed colleague, Commander Charles Tucker. Mister Tucker doesn't share my belief that it is essential to say what must be said, to leave a record, tie up loose ends. Mister Tucker is laboring under the false hope that we are going to be miraculously rescued before we suffocate," Malcolm said sarcastically.

Trip returned the favor. "Mr. and Mrs. Reed, I realize that you've just begun a period of mourning and that I'll never get an answer to this question, but I got to ask it anyway. Was Malcolm always this cynical?"

Malcolm turned to glare at Trip. "In a few days, when the reality of this situation actually begins to sink in, you might very well decide you want to record some logs of your own. You have my word, I will not interrupt you."

"I just want to get some sleep, Malcolm! Is that so hard to understand?" Trip asked.

"We have less than nine days of oxygen left. It seems a waste to use it up sleeping," Malcolm said seriously.

Trip growled, "If I don't waste some oxygen sleeping, I'm going to start getting real cranky, and you don't want to spend your last nine days cooped up with me when I'm cranky. So turn that thing off and get some rest."

Malcolm thought about saying something about the fact that sleeping without T'Pol always seemed to make Trip cranky but thought better of it. He wasn't in the mood to hear Trip's insistence that his wife was alive one more time.

SHUTTLEPOD - MORNING

"Morning Malcolm, I got the receiver working but the transmitter's a lost cause. Who's Stinky?"

"I beg your pardon?" Malcolm asked as he sat up.

Trip smiled, "You were talking in your sleep. You kept calling for some guy named Stinky."

Malcolm ignored the obviously untrue charge and focused on what Trip had said before. "You repaired the receiver. What is that? Is it a ship?" he asked, referring to the noise the machine was making.

"You know the range is very limited," Trip admitted. "It's probably just white noise; the sound of the galaxy laughing at us." Just then the shuttlepod was hit and shook hard.

"What the hell was that!?" Malcolm said, trying to hold on.

"I don't know but it felt a little like whatever knocked out the sensor array," Trip said, holding on himself.

Reed looked over at his pilot's board, "We're losing atmosphere. Pressure's down eight percent."

"Help me! We've got to find that hole!" Trip said as he searched.

"Without sensors it's not going to be easy to locate," Malcolm pointed out.

"Then use your ears!" Trip said exasperated.

"Pressure's down 22 percent," Reed reported tersely.

"The damned hole is too small!"

"Where is it? What are you doing?" Reed asked as Trip ripped open a ceiling panel.

"It's nitrogen for the coolant tanks. Just give me a few seconds," Trip said as the pod filled with opaque gas. "Now let's find the leak."

"I got it! It's over here!" Reed called out.

Tucker called out, "There's another one down here! Put your finger on it until we can figure out what to do."

Reed thought quickly. "We've got some valve sealant in storage bin three."

Trip swore softly. "Have we got anything a little closer?"

"Do you mind passing your meatloaf?" Reed asked.

"What?" Trip asked.

"I assume you've finished with it," Reed said matter of factly. Trip used his foot to get the tray off the bench and pushed it over to Reed. Reed put his foot in the tray and used the mashed food remains to block first his tiny hole and then the other one.

Tucker chuckled, "And you came close to criticizing my choice of cuisine. Obviously whatever hit us went clear through the pod." He got on the job of making the temporary patches permanent ones.

Reed ran a diagnostic and replied, "I'm afraid it did more than just puncture the cabin, Commander. On it's way out it was kind enough to rupture one of the O2 cylinders."

Tucker sighed and leaned his head against the hull next to the patch. "Great, how much closer to oblivion are we?"

"We've got less than two days of air left," Reed said with finality. He walked over to where Trip had patched the second hole. "The skin of this pod is designed to deflect a meteor five times the size of this hole."

They exchanged worried glances. There was only one thing that they knew of that could do this; microsingularities. "I wonder if that's what took out Enterprise," Trip said softly.

"We'll never know," Reed said just as soft.

"Always the optimist," Trip snorted.

"We have forty hours of air left. What do you expect me to do, sit here and plan my wedding?" Malcolm asked.

"I'm confident that I'll live to see T'Pol give birth to Charles Tucker the Fourth one day."

"So she wore you down did she? Well at least you know he'll be born regardless. You sent him off with your parents. They'll make sure he's born." Malcolm was certain of that, no matter how difficult it would be. The Tucker's just did not give up; as exemplified by the man next to him. "Any suggestions on finding me a bride in the next day and a half?"

Trip smiled. "Well, if you're looking for suggestions, I'd recommend Hoshi if she made it." Malcolm sighed. "Would another half day be worth freezing your butt off?"

"What are you talking about?"

"If we lower the thermostat in here to about minus-five centigrade, we should be able to use that power to enhance the efficiency of the atmosphere recyclers." Tucker shrugged.

Reed sighed, "Our last two and a half days freezing versus our last two days toasty warm. What a delightful choice."

"I'd pick freezing, another half a day is half a day," Trip pointed out.

"Freezing it is then," Malcolm said as he hung up a mirror.

"And just what are you doing?" Trip asked puzzled.

"An officer at his best is always well-groomed," Reed said as he started shaving.

"Nice to see you're developing a more positive attitude," Trip said.

"Actually, I was thinking about what our corpses would look like when they're eventually found. With no air in the pod, we should remain in fairly good condition."

Trip shook his head. "Charming, but you're forgetting one thing Malcolm."

"What's that?"

"If I remember my honors biology course correctly, your hair and nails keep growing for quite a while after your dead. I'm pretty sure that includes your beard," Trip pointed out.

Malcolm turned off the shaver. "Thanks."

[dragonfan]

Chapter 19

ENTERPRISE READY ROOM

"Come in," Archer called from behind his desk. Anything had to be better than his paperwork. Paperwork was a bore but was something that every captain had to put up with. At least with an on going mission, he was guaranteed to be interrupted once in a while.

T'Pol came in and laid a PADD down on his desk. "I've analyzed the scans we took of the Tesnian ship. I believe they were hit by a micro singularity."

Archer shook his head, "Well no wonder things went to hell for them."

"Three also hit Enterprise, here, here and here."

Archer suddenly frowned, "Shuttlepod 1"

"Sir?" T'Pol asked, suppressing a sudden jolt of fear for her mate.

"I'm concerned about Trip and Malcolm. The shuttlepod doesn't have the hull plating we do. They could be in for a rough ride when they get back to the asteroid field. Better hail them and agree to a new rendezvous point."

"Yes sir," she said. She was in full agreement that Trip should not be anywhere near such dangerous phenomenon in just a shuttlepod. It was a bad combination.


SHUTTLEPOD 1

As it was now -5C, Malcolm and Trip were bundled up with baseball caps firmly on and their jackets zipped up as far as they would go. Once more static could be heard over the comm receiver and Malcolm turned to Trip. "A ship?" he asked.

"It's a little more modulated than the last one, but it could be just a random gamma-ray burst. You know, Travis and Hoshi couldn't have been more than 24 or 25 years old." Trip mused.

"If the Captain were here with us now I wonder if he'd feel guilty about bringing them on this mission," Malcolm said thoughtfully.

Trip shook his head. "Not for a minute. They died doing what they loved, if they died."

Reed snorted, "I don't remember Hoshi loving much about being in deep space."

Trip disagreed. "She was coming along. She saved our asses on more than one occasion. I plan on letting her family know just how essential she was."

"It sounds to me like you do have some letters to record," Malcolm pointed out.

Trip shook his head, "Nope, I'll wait to tell them in person."

"You know, you're endless optimism is beginning to get just a little bit tiresome," Malcolm snapped.

"Unlike your heartfelt letters of farewell to half the girls in San Francisco?" Trip snarked. "You know if I didn't know better I'd call you a Don Juan!"

"At least I'm capable of accepting our fate. We're going to be dead in about 33 hours. Whether our beards continue to grow or not is of no concern to me. We will be dead! And unless some ship happens across our path, our bearded bodies will be discovered in about three or four years. Is that optimistic enough for you?" Malcolm demanded.

"What is your problem with having a little hope? Even if we do die, at least the others will be found." Trip tried to point out the silver lining.

"What is your problem with facing the truth?" Malcolm wanted to know.

"You're a regular grim reaper, Malcolm. Anyone ever tell you that? Well, if this little trip is a death sentence, then it would seem to me we're entitled to a last meal. What'll it be? I'm afraid our selection is somewhat limited," Trip snarked.

"I'm not hungry," Malcolm said, his frustration pouring out of him and leaving him rather tired. "Is that how you really see me? The eternal pessimist? The grim reaper? I don't want to die, Trip. What makes you think I want to die?"

"Because ever since we saw Enterprise spread across that asteroid, you've done nothing but write your own obituary." Trip pointed out.

Malcolm winced. "You don't understand. I lost nearly everyone I cared about on that ship. Those girls I talked about; Rochelle, Deborah, Catelin. None of them worked out because I could never get very close to them. I never got very close to my family either, for that matter, not that it's any business of yours. But with the crew of the Enterprise, it was different. I was really starting to feel comfortable with most of the crew. The only real friends I had were on that ship and now the only one that's left thinks I'm the bloody angel of death."

"d**n it Malcolm, you're not listening! T'Pol is not dead! We're bondmates remember? We're telepathically bonded to each other. She's up here," Trip tapped the side of his head.

"After the Vulcan priest does his thing," Malcolm said. "I did my homework, or as much homework as I could get out the Vulcans."

"No, right now," Trip paused. "That's the difference between a chosen mate and a betrothal bond. You're right; a betrothal bond isn't strong enough to really make an impact until it is consummated in a mind meld. Chosen mates are different." He tried to find the words to explain something so very alien. "Chosen mates bind themselves, when the time is right. It's instinct to meld. For us, the priest thing is just going to be a formality. Once the bond started to form we were already married. That's the real reason T'Pol got so pissy when I got pregnant."

"The bond's not real strong now. She's just a presence in the back of my mind. But the bond is growing stronger every day. We don't know how strong it will be when it finishes binding us together. At the very least we'll be able to speak to each other telepathically when we're in line of sight. At the most we'll be able to communicate across light years. T'Pol is alive! And if she's alive, then some of the rest of the crew had to make it too!"

Malcolm took a deep breath. It seemed that once more the Vulcan need for privacy had him working on a misassumption. "If T'Pol made it, then something probably went wrong long before the crash," he said, trying to work it out. "They must have abandoned ship and Enterprise crashed later. That would explain why we couldn't see any lifeboats."

Trip nodded and pulled out the bottle of Bourbon, "Here's to the crew of the starship Enterprise, may those who didn't make it ride the wind between the stars forever."

"Here, here," Malcolm said and with that toast they started sharing the bottle.



ENTERPRISE BRIDGE


T'Pol was cold. A cold so deep it was settling into her bones. She paused in her calculations of the micro singularities' positions to check the bridge temperature once more. It had not changed from the last time she had looked. 'Why am I so cold?' she wondered. Even at the lower temperatures that Humans preferred she should not have been experiencing more than a slight numbness in her extremities. But she was so cold her bones were beginning to ache.

"Nasty little buggers," Archer said, leaning over her shoulder. "I really hope Trip and Malcolm didn't run into one of them."

"They have!" T'Pol exclaimed. That was the explanation. It wasn't she that was cold, it was Trip. He was so cold it was a threat to his life. "We have to find them immediately. They are in need of medical care!" She began a detailed scan, following the 'feeling' of cold and Trip.

"What?" Archer asked confused. "How do you know?"

"I am freezing. The temperature on the bridge is not low enough to cause it. When one bondmate is in a life threatening situation, regardless of how weak their bond is, the other will feel it. They may not recognize it but they feel it. Trip is freezing, therefore something is terribly wrong. We have to find them now!" T'Pol didn't stop to give her explanation. She had to find her mate.


SHUTTLEPOD 1

Malcolm asked drunkenly, "Does that sound modulated enough for you?" He pointed at the comm.

"Modulated?" Trip asked.

"The radio; or is it just the galaxy giggling at us again?" Malcolm said before he took another drink.

"It can giggle all it wants, but the galaxy's not getting any of our bourbon!"

This brought a snort/chuckle from both men. Then Malcolm decided that since they were dead anyway, he would ask a question that had been bothering him for a while. "Hey," he nudged Trip who was huddled beside him. "I know you're married to T'Pol and all but, hmmm? I think she's pretty. Do you think she's pretty?"

"T'Pol? Are you serious? She's gorgeous and my wife so hands off!"

"Yes but you were so prim and proper at the wedding I'm beginning to wonder."

Trip didn't want to know what Malcolm was wondering so he interrupted. "Mal, you've had too much to drink."

"Of course I've had too much to drink! That doesn't stop me from wondering."

"Oh God," Trip moaned.

"You ever noticed her bum?" Malcolm asked, trying to look Trip in the face.

"What?" Trip yelped. He could not believe that Malcolm, Mr. Rules and Regs had actually asked him that drunk or not!

"Her bum. She's got an awfully nice bum."

Trip shook his head. There was no getting out of this conversation now. 'Well if you can't beat 'em, join 'em,' he thought. "To SubCommander T'Pol Tucker, the most beautiful woman in the universe and you keep your eyes off her bum. That's mine just as soon as she finally lets me have it."

Malcolm snorted, "All that and you're not even getting any? You poor sap you really do love her! Awfully nice though." He glanced over at the comm as it crackles again. "It's probably nothing, right?"

Trip scrambled for the pilot's seat, "That's definitely not nothing!"

Malcolm drunkenly rambled, "Well then, that means it's something. What is it? Well, is it something or someone, because if it's someone,"

"Shh!"

"Sorry," Malcolm muttered.

"Definitely someone."

Malcolm continued, "We have no way to respond, do we? This is like the plane flying over the desert island in a lost at sea movie."

"Malcolm!" Trip snapped.

"Sorry, happy endings, I must think happy endings."

Trip made an adjustment and suddenly they could hear Hoshi's voice over the comm. "We know you're in trouble and we're trying to find you. Please respond."

"It's Hoshi!" they both cried in delight.

"Commander and Lieutenant, please respond."

"We need to get their attention," Trip said, struggling to figure a way to signal Hoshi and whatever ship she was on.

"Can they see us on their sensors?" Malcolm asked.

"I have no idea what that ship's capabilities are Mal," Trip said. "We need to do something that no one can ignore."

"What if we fired off our weapons?"

"Nah, not big enough," Trip said. He knew what he was going to have to do and he didn't like it. 'Think about T'Pol,' he told himself. 'Do you want her to die because you did?" That of course had been his real motivation for finding any way possible to survive. If he died, so did his wife. "I'm going to have to eject our engine."

"What good will that do?" Malcolm asked.

"If I blow it up it'll make one heck of an explosion." They looked at each other grimly but moved to jettison the impulse drive. Reed attached the micro-detonators that Trip had stashed in the shuttle for some reason. Then Trip said a prayer as he ejected the drive.

"How does it feel to be slower than a snail?" Malcolm asked

"I saw this great cartoon once," Trip said as they huddled together once more. "There were these two snails sitting on the back of a big old turtle and one snail turns to the others and says 'Hold on Fred. Here we go.'" Slowly the two men drifted off into unconsciousness.


ENTERPRISE SICKBAY

T'Pol and Archer hurried to sickbay to see the two recovered officers. "Phlox?" Archer asked seeing him bounce from Trip to Malcolm and back.

"They are both hypothermic, have higher levels of carbon dioxide than I'd like and," Phlox turned around and handed Archer a bottle, "completely intoxicated. I don't know where they got the alcohol or why they were drinking it. It wasn't a good choice considering their position."

"It is if they thought they were dying doctor," Archer said. "They only had a few hours of oxygen left."

"They were drinking before the SubCommander sent us after them," Phlox said.

T'Pol was holding Trip's hand carefully. "He is still very cold," she said.

"I have to be careful warming them up," Phlox said. "They will recover but I do believe a small lecture on the dangers of freezing temperatures and alcohol are in order."

"Phlox, give it a rest. Hess gave me a report on the damage to the shuttlepod. They had no navigation, the comm could only receive and that barely, no distress beacon, as far as she could tell the impulse drive was working but they blew it up to signal us as to their location and they lost most of their oxygen supply. The reason they were freezing was to feed more power into the air scrubbers. Hess says that gave them an extra twelve hours," Archer paused, "which we used ten of to find them." Phlox flinched at the grim count down of damaged systems.

Just then Malcolm groaned. Archer leaned over so that he would be able to see without straining. "We're on Enterprise? But how?"

"Easy Malcolm," Archer said. "You two had a nice little bout with hypothermia."

"The Commander,"

"He's going to be fine," Archer grinned and nodded his head over at the other biobed.

Phlox moved over to Malcolm. "You both have a way to go before I'll release you from sickbay though."

"You're supposed to be dead. We saw Enterprise, what was left. How?"

"I'll tell you about it in the morning, for now you need to sleep and warm up some more," Archer said. He walked over to Trip who was just beginning to wake up.

"SubCommander," Malcolm called.

T'Pol left Trip for a moment, moving only far enough away to get to Malcolm's side. Her attention never left Trip. "Yes."

"The Commander never thought you were dead. He knew you were still alive." Malcolm tried to get her to understand.

T'Pol did not understand why this was supposed to be such a revelation. "Of course, we're bondmates."

"Maybe someday that will make sense to me," Malcolm slurred.

"Good night, Lieutenant," T'Pol said and she walked back to Trip. She could still hear Malcolm.

"Good night, still got a nice bum." he muttered.

T'Pol paused only slightly before returning to Trip's side. She would ask him later what the Lieutenant had meant.

"Told him you weren't dead," Trip said with a smile.

"No but another group nearly was," Archer said. "You know as much as I want all of my officers to get field and command experience I'm not too sure I should send you off the ship again."

"Hey! It's not my fault we ran into a couple of mini black holes!" Trip protested.

"Oh I'm not talking about your away team record Trip. That's bad enough but I just can't take any more of her pouting," Archer laughed as he tilted his head at T'Pol. "We had three of the things hit Enterprise and she didn't say anything more than they hit here and walked off!"

"Vulcans do not pout Captain," T'Pol asserted.

"Ah huh," Archer agreed. Then he turned to Trip. "I just can't take it any more. Just about the only thing she hasn't done is to try and out do Porthos in the puppy eye department."

"Only one way to stop it Captain," Trip pointed out.

"I know, make her stop please?" he whined. The two Human males began laughing at the confused look on T'Pol's face. 'It's nice being able to tease my best friend again,' Archer thought, 'and this time I get to include T'Pol as well.'

[dragonfan]

Chapter 20

Hoshi Sato stared at the data PADD in front of her. It was all right there in plain sight and yet no one had ever put the pieces together. They had been so wrapped up in diplomacy, technology and their own agendas that they had never bothered to put all of the information together to make a coherent whole. "That's it!" she cried and jumped up from the table.

T'Pol, Trip and Malcolm looked at each other bewildered. The four of them had been having lunch in the mess hall. Trip and Malcolm had once more been bickering over weapons upgrades and power consumption while Hoshi and T'Pol had been discussing Vulcan history. "What's it?" Trip asked.

"Vulcans and Humans have had a communications problem for a while now and I've been trying to figure out what the basis of it is. I knew that some of it was cultural miscommunication, especially after I got to know you T'Pol," Hoshi nodded at the First Officer. "But it's been really bugging me for the last two months." No one needed to be told what had set Hoshi to wondering. The event of running into the 1701 had started a lot of speculation on a lot of subjects. Not to mention having turned the senior officers lives completely upside down. "I was present for some of the diplomatic talks when I was learning Vulcan. The body language never made sense to me, no matter how I looked at it. I knew that I was missing something. It was like they were having two different conversations rather than talking to each other."

"So what's the reason for the problem?" Malcolm asked, tugging her back into her seat.

"There are a couple of reasons but it boils down to history," Hoshi said. "It starts with The Time of Awakening on Vulcan, which was 2,000 years ago. That was when Surak converted the Vulcan people to logic. Up until then they were worse than a cross between the Klingons and the Andorians. That was during their atomic age. They had space flight with sub-light ships and had several small colonies by then. But they were destroying themselves with both major and minor wars between clans. They hadn't had a single day of peace for thousands of years.

"Now a bonded pair can have up to seven children if they survive long enough. But less than half of the children of the time survived to adulthood to have children of their own and few adults lived to have all seven children. Several times they came close to dropping their population below sustainable levels. It was during the last major war that Surak started to preach logic and pacifism. Now you need to pay attention to the amount of time involved. It took Surak over two centuries and several major; I mean cataclysmic, disasters to convert the majority of the surviving Vulcans. Even then he didn't convert everyone. Several of the surviving clans saw what was going on and left Vulcan never to return."

"You are speaking of the Sundering," T'Pol stated.

"Yes but my point is that it took Vulcan more than a thousand years before they ventured out of their territory again. Every successful race out here has gone through a similar situation unless they had alien help. And even those have taken a very long time before they ventured off their homeworlds."

"And they expect us to follow the same pattern," Malcolm said thoughtfully. "They expect us to have a major catastrophe and then take forever to learn from it once we figure out we have something we need to learn."

"Yes, but as a race we can't!" Hoshi said excitedly. "When you add in the factor that Humans act very similarly to Vulcan toddlers, many of the Vulcans who interact with Humans subconsciously treat us like children. They have never really interacted with Human children and teens. They don't understand our maturation process. They expect us to loose one of the very basic elements of our race. They expect us to 'mature' and loose the innate need to push our boundaries, to learn completely."

"You mean they expect us to become hide bound idiots?" Trip spluttered. Malcolm just looked horrified at the prospect.

"I do not understand the appellation," T'Pol said puzzled.

"Its slang for someone who is stuck in the past, who can not learn and move forward with new information," Hoshi explained. "One of the driving forces of Humans is the need to learn and explore. 'You learn something new everyday' is a very old saying and is considered to be fact for the most part. When a Human stops learning they stop living."

"And a Human learns best through experience," Trip pointed out.

T'Pol absorbed this information. It suddenly made something that had annoyed her for years make sense. "So when Humans continue to insist that all Henry Archer wanted to do was see his engine fly, they are referring to this need to learn?" she asked.

The Humans nodded solemnly. "Your people crushed him Honey," Trip said softly. "He was one of our best people and Vulcans destroyed him." They could see when the young Vulcan realized exactly what that meant. Not only had her people accidentally destroyed a man that they had great respect for but an entire generation of Humans had been prevented from learning in a way that they needed to as a species.

"By the very fact of your existence being common knowledge, many of our people were and still are consumed with a need to learn more about what is out here. There are so many new things to learn and the possibilities are endless," Malcolm said.

"Soval must have this information immediately," T'Pol said as she picked up her dishes and left the mess hall. The Humans were sorry for their friend's distress but the possibility that such a fundamental misunderstanding could be cleared up was wonderful.

8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

T'Pau was a junior member of the Vulcan High Council, having taken her Clan's seat on the Council some 25 years before. It was rare for one so young to be given a seat on the Council. Most were not given that sort of responsibility until their second century but she had an uncanny knack for politics that had shown itself from the time she was a young child. She had returned to her office after reviewing the information Captain Sopek had delivered to the Council. It was as disturbing as the rumors being circulated by the High Command that her younger sister T'Pol had become a deviant and had actually married a Human crewmember of the ship she was serving on. She was in need of meditation.

Instead of finding a peaceful place to meditate, she found her mother who had been missing for almost two months. "Mother, your unexplained absence has had many concerned," she said as she hurried into the room.

"The High Command did not wish to allow me to attend your sister T'Pol's wedding to her bondmate," T'Les explained. "I was forced to travel in secret."

"You approve of her marriage to a Human?" T'Pau said, shocked. She could find no logical reason for this.

T'Les arched her brow. "I see no way that I can disapprove of her marriage to one she shares a Pudvel-tor katelau tel with," she chided gently. She did not ask how T'Pau came to have knowledge of just who her youngest sister had married. Not only did she sit on the High Council, the Ni'Var had been delayed by no less than four diversions. Each of the diversions had dealt with a genuine emergency but the delay was suspicious to T'Les.

"A Pudvel-tor katelau tel?" T'Pau asked shocked. "I must meditate. I have had several shocks in the last few hours and must integrate the new information."

"Of course daughter," T'Les said calmly. "I too was forced to meditate for many hours when I was given this information. When you have regained your balance, I have a recording of the first ceremony you may view." T'Les got up to leave but paused for a moment to say over her shoulder. "T'Pol and her new husband also plan to have a Vulcan ceremony here on Vulcan as soon as they are given leave." With that she left.

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The Vahklas' engines were shot. Trip looked over them and shook his head in disgust. The Vulcan ship's captain, a male Vulcan named Tavin, had asked for help in repairing his ship's engines and life support. Captain Archer had sent him and a few of his team over to help while Enterprise mapped the Arachnid Nebula. Most of the crew of the Vahklas was over on Enterprise because Trip had shut down most of the life support systems. They were shot too.

"Kov, I don't know how you've managed to keep this old girl running, I really don't." It wasn't just that the systems hadn't been maintained properly, which they hadn't although he could tell that Kov had been doing his best to do so. There was only so much an engineer could do with a trashed engine and no repair facilities. The entire ship had probably been falling apart at the seams when Tavin had bought the ship and taken it out into space. "It's going to take at least three or four days to get everything up and running again the way it should be. My captain says that's not a problem. The Vahklas will just tag along with us as Enterprise maps the nebula."

The two Engineers spent all day working on the ailing ship's engines before finally deciding to stop for a meal. They went back to Enterprise only to find the mess hall mostly empty. Among the other occupants were two Vulcans, T'Pol and another Vulcan Kov identified as Tolaris. The moment Trip saw the two he realized that his intention of introducing T'Pol to the young Vulcan Engineer would have to wait. He could see that she was involved in an intense debate with Tolaris and rather than interrupt he steered Kov to the other side of the mess hall. He had the good sense to know that nothing upset his wife faster than having a good discussion curtailed.

Kov couldn't help but notice. "You don't get along with your first officer?" he asked.

Trip laughed, "Nah, we get along great but I know better than to get between her and one of her targets. She's either ripping apart his argument or committing it to memory." What he didn't say was that from the look on T'Pol's face he thought she would love to rip Tolaris a new one but someone, probably Captain Archer, had told her to play nice. He turned his attention back to Kov and the young man's endless questions about Humans; but not without keeping an eye on his wife and Tolaris. Even without having a lot of experience with Vulcan body language aside from T'Pol's, he knew that Tolaris was far too interested in T'Pol for his comfort.

[dragonfan]

Chapter 21

"I did not see you at dinner tonight. I thought that you might continue your work on the Vahklas," T'Pol said to her husband as she got ready for their neuropressure session.

"I was there but you had your frustrated laymata expression on and I didn't want to get between you and your prey," Trip smirked. "Besides, there's no way I'm going to miss this." He laid out the mat on the floor.

"You think I looked like a frustrated laymata?" T'Pol asked; eyebrow arched.

"Yeah, like you had a nice juicy meal right in front of you but you couldn't get to it because someone had put up an invisible barrier. I'm guessing that the Captain told ya to play nice."

"He believes that perhaps some of the techniques the V'tosh ka'tur use would be able to help me handle your emotions."

"Translation please?" Trip asked.

"Vulcans without logic; they have rejected the teachings of Surak," T'Pol explained.

"So that's why Kov is so curious about Humans," Trip said. "And you don't think that their teachings would work."

"No, not only will their techniques not work, Tolaris wishes me to join him. His arguments were illogical, juvenile, unsupportable, inane and an insult to my intelligence!" T'Pol said. "He is most persistent but I have no wish to be without logic. I require a way to handle your emotions. My control of my own emotions is adequate."

The uneasy feelings that Trip had upon seeing Tolaris solidified. The man was after his wife. He would deal with that later. Right now his wife needed him here, not out gunning for a Vulcan Don Juan. "And Jon wouldn't let you rip his arguments to shreds."

"You are correct. What is worse, I believe that Tolaris believes that I have been persuaded to believe his arguments are valid!" T'Pol had to stop and concentrate on her control. She had no wish to take her frustrations out on her mate.

Trip lit the candles T'Pol was setting out. "You've called me most of those things from time to time," he pointed out. He knew that there was an extreme difference between the two as T'Pol usually enjoyed their discussions but he wanted to hear what she would say.

T'Pol turned to face him. "You are Surak compared to Tolaris," she proclaimed flatly.

Trip burst out laughing at that comparison. The idea of him being anything like the father of Vulcan logic was ludicrous. "Oh honey, it sounds like you've had a worse day than I did."

"The Vahklas' repairs are that extensive?" she asked, concerned.

"Tavin must have bought that thing out of a junkyard. Here let's skip neuropressure tonight. I've got something I want to show you." When T'Pol looked at him like he had grown a second head, Trip persisted. "I want to give you a message. It's similar to neuropressure but I've always reserved it for very bad days."

Intrigued by the idea of Human neuropressure T'Pol gave in without further fuss. She had to admit that Trip was correct, today had been particularly difficult. Trip arranged her on her front and started with her feet. "So Tolaris was persistent?" Trip said. "What does he want you to do?"

T'Pol sighed as Trip rubbed her feet. "He wanted me to stop meditating before sleeping so that I might experience my dreams," she said.

"But we don't meditate before bed. We meditate before going on shift," Trip said puzzled.

"Your dreams are very interesting. I found the one about shore leave on the beach to be quite illuminating," T'Pol said sleepily.

Trip had to admit, "I liked that one too. Been dreaming that one since our little trip to the decon chamber together."

To Trip's astonishment T'Pol said, "Perhaps we can recreate it on our next shore leave. I have been thinking of suggesting Risa to the Captain."

"Sounds good to me darlin'!" Trip said.

By then he had reached T'Pol's thighs and she was a quivering mass of goo. She thought that Trip was very logical to reserve this for extremely stressful days. If he did this every night she would be too relaxed to function the next day.

Trip was pleased that his efforts were appreciated. He had never heard T'Pol make those small sounds before and he found that he liked them. He slid his hands up under her silk top and began working on her back. It was hard to believe that just two months ago Captain Kirk had told him they were bonded. At the time the very idea of being T'Pol's bondmate was shocking, horrifying and a tiny bit of wonderful.

"How can something be shocking, horrifying and wonderful?" T'Pol asked sleepily.

Trip realized that she was picking up his thoughts through the bond and physical contact. "Sometimes Human reactions are like that sweetheart, all hopelessly jumbled. It didn't take me long to sort things out though. That's what I was thinking about, how quickly we've adapted to being bonded. Now it's just wonderful."

"I was quite disturbed as well," she admitted. "But now the fact that you are my mate is quite satisfying."

Trip settled down to making sure that every single muscle T'Pol had was completely free of any tension. As he did so, he slipped into what had become one of his favorite daydreams, making love to T'Pol on a Florida beach. The feeling of being watched slowly crept up on them. Occupied as they were with each other's minds, they didn't notice at first that anything was wrong. Then suddenly the daydream was taken over and Trip was shoved out of the dream.

Where the mind touch of the Vulcan Healer had been cold and impersonal, this was malevolent and possessive. Trip had a flash of another man taking his place in the dream before the pain started. Both Trip and T'Pol arched up screaming in pain. They both reacted instinctively, lashing out together mentally at the intruder.

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In sickbay Dr. Phlox was puttering around with his menagerie when an alarm went off. Quickly checking it he realized it was the passive medical alarm for the officer's quarters; the Tucker's cabin. A second alarm rang out seconds later, calling a second medical emergency in the guest quarters. Phlox hit the comm while grabbing up a med kit. "Phlox to Captain Archer! Medical emergency among our guests and with the Tuckers! Crewman Cutler and I are enroute!" As the two ran out of sickbay Phlox directed Cutler to the guest quarters while he headed for officer country.

Archer and Tavin ran for sickbay, knowing that their people would be brought directly there. When they got there Lieutenant Reed and his people were carrying Tolaris, T'Pol and Trip into sickbay. Strangely Reed and one of his men were carrying the Tucker's side by side, making sure not to physically separate them. They were clinging to each other's hands.

"What's going on?" Archer demanded, springing forward to help Malcolm set T'Pol on a biobed. Surprisingly Phlox directed the Armory crewman to set Trip on the same bed.

"We found them on the floor writhing, screaming and holding hands. The doctor warned us not to separate them," Reed reported for Phlox. "He's speculating some sort of psychic attack. Tavin, contact your people and find out if anyone can 'hear' anything or if anyone else is being affected. It we're lucky someone may have noticed something."

"Do you know what you're asking us to do?" Tavin said astonished.

"One of your people is being attacked as well Tavin!" Archer snapped. He didn't want to take his stress out on the congenial Vulcan but this was an emergency and Tavin was supposed to be a Captain. That meant more than just deciding where to go and giving orders. It meant putting yourself on the front line for your people.

Meanwhile Phlox had run his scanners over both Trip and T'Pol and was now scanning Tolaris. "That is not necessary gentlemen," he said furiously. "Tolaris is the one attacking."

"That's impossible!" Tavin said. "Tolaris has no reason to attack anyone!"

"Check the readings yourself. I may not be a telepath but I have been trained in what to look for. There are only three brain wave patterns present and they belong to Commander Tucker, SubCommander T'Pol and Tolaris." While Tavin checked Phlox's readings, Phlox partially sedated Tolaris and all three patients relaxed. Trip and T'Pol cuddled into each other on their biobed while Tolaris went limp. Phlox checked to make certain that Tolaris would not be able to move or summon more energy for attacking. There was nothing more that he could do. Any more medication would cause further damage in all of his patients. At least the Vulcan could not escape in his condition.

Tavin did not want to believe that one of his people could be responsible. "I still do not see any proof that it was Tolaris who was attacking. It could have just as easily been the SubCommander," he said. But they could tell that he was deeply disturbed by what he had seen and heard so far.

Phlox snorted. "It could not have been her," he stated plainly. "Mr. and Mrs. Tucker were otherwise occupied at the time of the attack."

Malcolm looked down at the sleeping couple. 'I had thought that he'd said he wasn't getting any. He certainly was quick to chide me about being a gentleman every time I teased him about it. He was quick to point out that they had only known that they were bondmates for two months and married for one. That was damned quick for intimacy for a Vulcan. Then again, maybe Phlox was talking about something else.' They had found the couple lying on the floor on a mat, clutching each other's hands. Malcolm couldn't get their screams out of his mind. He had never thought he'd ever hear a Vulcan screaming in pain. He never wanted to again.

"Mr. and Mrs. Tucker?" Tavin repeated surprised.

"They have a chosen mate bond," Archer explained. "They've had a Human wedding ceremony and they'll have a Vulcan one the next time we get shore leave on Vulcan."

"They were more shocked than the rest of us to find out they were bondmates," Malcolm said as he moved aside for Phlox.

"How are they?" Archer asked.

"Very lucky," Phlox said. "If the attack had gone any longer at that intensity they could have sustained irreversible brain damage. As it is, they both will be experiencing symptoms similar to concussions. They will recover but it will take a few weeks. That is if Tolaris stops in his attack."

Archer nodded, "And how do we get Tolaris to stop attacking?" Personally he would love to shove the Vulcan out an airlock but as Captain he couldn't take that route. He had to take care of the situation in such a way that the authorities of both races could agree that Tolaris had been properly dealt with.

"We don't," Phlox said. "Either he stops on his own or the Tuckers must defeat his attack. Not even a Vulcan Mind Healer could separate them at this point."

Archer didn't like it but he realized that he could do nothing about a psychic attack. "Lieutenant, place a round the clock guard on Tolaris. Phlox; do whatever you can and let me know when this is over. I'll need to have Trip and T'Pol tell me what happened for the record. Tavin, I'm sorry but I'm placing Tolaris under arrest. Lieutenant Hess will head up the repairs for your ship." With that he left and Reed followed a moment later. Tavin stared about in bewilderment. He couldn't believe that after this Archer was still willing to help them. No Vulcan would have done the same. They would have condemned the entire group for the actions of a single man.