A/N: This takes the idea of Terra Prime and puts a bit of a spin on it. I also hope to answer why a child was created more clearly.
Major props to Angie who indicated this would be a more dramatic story.
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Paxton played the digital images again – he did every day; it's how he motivated himself on the right thing to do and was reminded of a legacy, one his father left behind. Earth. Earth for Earthers. Terra Prime.
It's the right thing to do, Paxton thought. He sipped his scotch and sighed at the video screen once more.
Colonel Green's visage – dark hair and eyes with a pale complexion -- filled the screen. Paxton didn't bother to turn the volume up, he knew the speech by heart and had since he was a boy; it was the one where he promised the people of Earth they would be safe from the threat of radiation, a sickness that would harm the younger generations of Earth. It was something that would keep the races of Terra pure. It's when he announced his plan to kill millions of infected people.
It was said in history books, the ones Paxton's father gave him – the ones that couldn't be located in a library, that Colonel Green was a savior of mankind. His mission, though controversial, saved humanity and killed off those sickest with radiation, people who would weaken an already ill population.
Colonel Green is a saint. He did what any sane man would do. He had no choice. I have none either.
It's why Paxton had done such painstaking research on who was in charge of Enterprise. He'd heard the man had a friendship with a certain Vulcan, the same Vulcan who had relations with a human already. That much he'd already known; he'd received the tidbit from one of his men stationed on Enterprise.
T'Pol.
She sickened him – both that she would have a friendship and relations with humans. He didn't necessarily blame the captain or the engineer, who he assumed had been enticed by her alien ways. It was a long-held belief that Vulcans could hypnotize people with their eyes.
A light cough behind him let him know someone was waiting for him, interrupting his thoughts. Setting down his drink, he paused the video and turned to see a large black man behind him.
"Yes, Watson?" Paxton asked.
"The doctor wanted me to tell you he's ready."
Paxton smirked and nodded. Standing, letting the affects of the alcohol he'd been sipping and his anxiety medicine intertwine, he headed to the back of the facility through caverns and drilled rock until he reached a steel door. Entering a few numbers, he sauntered in, noticing a creature – a stirring one – in a crib on the other end of the room.
Good, I was afraid the kid had died.
The bed was plastic and see-through with a lid covering it, like the child was being held in a cage.
As Paxton peered at the child, he grimaced. The baby's large green eyes stared at him in wonder and she stuck a childish thumb in her mouth as if any human baby might.
Hardly human. That thing defiles nature. It is ungodly. Unnatural.
She wasn't like the other ones the doctor had tried to bring into existence – the ones with deformities; this one seemed on the outside perfect, even her green skin and menacing, pointed ears. It was too bad, he'd hoped one of the mutant ones had lived; it'd make his case to prevent crossbreeding more compelling.
"I've decided to name her Abomi," said the doctor.
Clapping the man on the back, Paxton smiled. Dr. Jeremy Mann – a student of Dr. Soong, back before he left the university … or rather was forced to leave – was a brilliant man and one just as dedicated in saving the human race.
"Abomi?" Paxton asked.
"Abomination. Seems only fitting."
Paxton laughed. "I suppose it is."
Crossing the sterile room, he mashed his thumb against a red button next to his monitor to signal his communications man: Watson.
"Yes," Watson said.
"We're ready. Get me Starfleet."
---
Archer sighed as he tried to keep his eyes focused on the screen ahead, instead of allowing them to drift shut, which is what they'd wanted to do ever since this film began. It wasn't just that the room was dark and quiet; this was another horror flick, another one from the 1970s about a vampire and one Trip insisted he see.
"This is where it gets good," Trip said. His elbow jabbed into Archer's ribcage.
"Hmmm," the captain said.
A vampire grabbed a girl and plunged his teeth into her neck. Of course, the woman was scantily clad – as all of them were – which made Archer wonder whether that was the reason they were watching this movie.
Because one bite obviously wasn't enough, the man held the woman and bit again tearing muscles in his teeth.
Instead of gasps, the room was silent, save one snoring moviegoer that sounded suspiciously like Lt. Reed.
Archer's eyes drifted closed until he heard an annoyed voice. It prompted his eyes to flash open.
"When does this get good?" Travis asked.
Trip frowned. "You people have no taste. This film was a classic."
Phlox said, "I enjoy it."
Trip pointed to the good doctor, located on the other the nearly vacant room. "Least someone likes Son of Dracula."
Phlox said, "Yes, I have a good view of the two kissing in the front row."
Trip rolled his eyes as the couple parted, frightened by the outburst.
A beep and a "Bridge to Captain Archer" from the intercom interrupted the movie, which meant Archer leapt up to answer it.
Saved by the bell, the captain thought.
"Archer."
"Captain, I … it would be best if you came to your Ready Room."
It was T'Pol, and her voice sounded worried.
"Be right there."
Striding down the hallways, walking faster than his normal pace, he reached the Bridge in less than ten minutes. He was glad he put the hurry on; his normally stoic first officer was pale and he noticed her hands were shaking. Without any explanation, she wordlessly furrowed her brow and strode into the Ready Room as he followed behind her.
"What's--?" he asked.
She shook her head to halt his question until the door slid close. When the portal was secure, she paced.
She said, "You … you may want to sit down."
Normally he would've put up a fuss, but her reaction made him obliged to accept.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"We received a transmission from Starfleet."
He waited as she struggled for the words.
"They've been contacted by a group called Terra Prime about a … child. A … half-Vulcan child."
"Oh?"
Straightening her spine, she folded her hands behind her back. "A half-Vulcan and half-human child."
After waiting what felt like hours for what exactly was wrong with a half-Vulcan/half-human child, he leaned forward. "T'Pol?"
"Starfleet has verified the data. The child is …."
"Yes?"
"Captain," she said. "Captain, the child is ours."
The only reaction he could give was to strain his ear closer to her and duck his head, hoping to catch the information again. He knew he hadn't heard correctly.
T'Pol said, "The baby is our offspring. Yours and mine."
"What?"
"Starfleet matched it to our DNA."
Hesitantly, T'Pol strode to his monitor and pressed her fingers along the console to bring up a picture. A baby appeared, one with pointed ears, olive skin, dark brown hair that swirled over the crown and large green eyes.
Dragging his feet to his desk to inspect the infant more closely, he stared at the photograph and then T'Pol.
The resemblance to T'Pol was striking, even besides the pointed ears and skin tone; the child had large lips and the hint of a smile on its face.
"Mine?" he asked.
"Yes." As if by reflex she pointed to the baby's eyes.
Mine?
Giving the picture one last gaze, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that his first officer shifted her weight and tried to give her his attention.
She said, "It's a female. Approximately six months."
A delicate question had to asked, one that made him cringe. "How did this child--?"
"I don't know. And I'm not certain why Terra Prime has it. Admiral Gardner provided few details, other than this image."
His finger stroked the screen. "Yours and mine?"
"Quite. They've run various tests, numerous times to ensure it. But … it's not just that."
Twisting his head, he braced himself by wrapping his hands on the desk's edge.
She whispered. "I can … feel the child's presence."
"I don't understand."
"Vulcan mothers bond with their children, sharing thoughts and feelings until the infant is one years of age. It ensures the baby survives and the mother can and will attend to its needs."
Archer frowned. "I'm … I don't know what to say."
"I am at a loss myself."
The Vulcan took a deep breath and eventually he filled the stale air between them.
"I … don't think we should mention anything to the crew," he said.
He'd intended the sentiment to be soft, more about protecting her embarrassment than his, but he couldn't help the crimson that had already sprung to his cheeks.
"They would find the news … problematic."
"Agreed." Swallowing hard, he thought it would be more than just problematic. "You going to be okay?"
"Yes." She didn't sound convinced. "Are you?"
"Yeah." He didn't wasn't convinced either.
Attempting to wear the mantle of captain and friend again, he crossed over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. The move usually felt reassuring even to him, but this time his stomach twisted and lurched. Even though he knew she was equally spooked, he kept it there. It was important whatever was going on, the two remained captain and first officer, as well as friends.
He said, "We'll get to the bottom of this."
Gazing at the floor, she nodded. "Of course."
"I'll contact the admiral and let you know if I learn anything new."
She walked slowly toward the door and then as if she had another question or a comment hung at the portal, her finger poised over the button.
"My bond with the child is strengthening."
"Don't worry," he said. It was the only thing he knew to.
With that, she opened the door and headed out.
TBC