Chapter Four
Jonathon Archer looked at T'Pol for so long that she was about to decide he had not heard her speak.
"T'Pol, I. . .there has to be something we can do!" he finally broke his silence.
"There is no recourse open to me, Commodore," T'Pol told him flatly. "I either do this, or my mother suffers for it. And others will suffer because of her. This is how it must be."
"I'll call Admiral Forrest," Archer said suddenly. "You're part of Starfleet now, T'pol. There has to be something we can do!"
"Admiral Forrest will not risk his relationship, Earth's relationship, with Vulcan over me, Commodore. The one person I thought would always support me has likewise withdrawn his support. I have been, as your people would say, overtaken by events. There is more at work here than just my mother. This is also punishment for my part in exposing P'Jemm. And in refusing to follow orders to abandon you before the Expanse mission." She paused.
"I am not what Vulcan considers a model citizen." Her face almost showed a wry smile, Archer decided.
"No offense to your people, Commander, but I couldn't care less what Vulcan thinks of you or anyone else, especially anyone on this ship and that's part of my crew," Archer's voice was almost savage. "I'm sick to death of the load of shit we have to eat to keep people like V'Las and Soval happy. I know you and he are close," Archer caught himself. "I'm sorry. I meant what I said, but I shouldn't have said it. Not in front of you."
"Do not concern yourself," T'Pol replied evenly. "I fear your assessment of the Ambassador is unfortunately accurate."
"I still should have caught it, if just out of respect for you," Archer mumbled. "T'Pol, surely there's some way I can help you, after all you've done for us!"
"There is no real choice, Commodore," T'Pol gave an eloquent shrug, something that Archer had never seen her do. "As I said, this situation is the culmination of many things, several of which are directly attributable to me. As Commander Tucker might have said, I must now compensate the violinist."
"Pay the fiddler, T'Pol," Archer grinned in spite of himself. "You have to pay the fiddler."
"That is what I said," T'Pol nodded. The two of them stood there for a moment, almost basking in the memory of Trip Tucker, as if just mentioning him made him somehow be present.
"Trip would be the first one screaming this wasn't right," Archer told her. "And looking for a way to get you out of it."
"I know," T'Pol said softly. "But there would be nothing he could do."
"There's no need for you to stand a shift if you don't want to, T'Pol," Archer said suddenly. "Take the time to yourself and do as you please. If you want to work, you can, but if you want to do something else, do it. We'll cover your bridge watch."
"Thank you, Commodore."
STE
Malcolm Reed was fuming. T'Pol was getting a dirty deal and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He had thought contacting Trip would be enough to get him involved, and maybe it had but he'd had no contact with him since that one brief call. He didn't dare try him again. Reed had used another of Givens' 'burners' to contact Janos with the information about the Syrranites. He had only three left. He couldn't wasted them on something so minor.
Not that he considered it minor. Still, he could only hide so many of the com units, and he might need them worse later on.
So all he could do was sit and stew in his anger and wonder if Trip was going to reveal himself over this, and if Janos could use the information he had given him.
STE
"I don't see how this is our problem, sir," McCann said after reading the latest intel on the Syrranite issues Vulcan was having.
"I wish it were that simple," Janos sighed. "Upheaval on Vulcan cannot help but be troublesome for us, Jerl, at least in the short run."
"I'm not arguing that, sir," McCann shook his head. "But this is on Vulcan. Completely out of our sphere of influence. We don't have anything there, and we have only two people on the planet, hidden in with the embassy personnel. I just don't see how we can affect the outcome. That's all I'm saying."
"Has Charles been in contact?" Janos asked.
"Yes. He's already destroyed one Orion station, destroyed I think eleven ships and freed almost one hundred captives."
"Where is he now?"
"On his way to Vulcan," McCann said, then groaned. "Oh, no."
"Now you see why we need to be up to date on this," Janos almost smiled. "Malcolm called him about T'Pol, but Charles said nothing to him about what he planned to do. But now he has freed captives and is headed to Vulcan. Would you care to wager if any of those captives were Vulcan?"
"No," McCann shook his head. "I wouldn't. And it's a good way to get on planet," McCann nodded.
"Exactly," Janos nodded. "Call Prim and warn him we may see Vulcan warships that may or may not be friendly," Janos said at once. "It's entirely possible that Charles is about to start a war." He almost grinned.
"You don't seem too concerned," McCann frowned.
"I'm not."
STE
"You are driven, milord," Kron remarked as he and Trip took a breather from their training. Dru'hak stood nearby, supervising.
"I got somethin' I gotta do in a few days," Trip admitted, taking a long pull on a water bottle. "Admit it's got me distracted."
"We will be on Vulcan tomorrow," Dru'hak said unnecessarily. "Does that have anything to do with what you must do?"
"It does," Trip nodded, then finished off the water bottle. "Friend o' mine is in a pinch. I don't aim to let her get pinched."
"Would this friend be a Vulcan, perhaps?" Dru'hal almost smiled.
"It might," Trip looked at his older friend. "Why?"
"No reason at all, milord," Dru'hak replied. "Merely curious."
"When we get there, I want all critical systems manned at all times," he ordered suddenly. "While I'm on the planet run 'port and starboard'. I know it won't be popular, but I'll make it up. Tell the crew that once this unpleasantness is dealt with we'll make for Risa. Five days leave all around in two shifts."
"That should prevent most complaints," Kron snorted in amusement. Port and Starboard was an old Earth 'wet' navy term for Condition Two 'steaming', meaning one half of the crew at battle stations for four to six hour shifts while the other half ate, slept and performed critical maintenance. It was hard on man and machine.
"They earned it," Trip shrugged. "And we might get a line on another station while we're there."
"I will do so, milord," Dru'hak nodded. "You expect trouble, I take it?"
"It's Vulcan," Trip snorted. "I always expect trouble."
STE
"Jon, I understand your problem, but this is some kind of internal matter with them and there's nothing we can do about it," Forrest said.
"So we just abandon T'Pol, after all she did for us?" Archer demanded. "The one Vulcan who helped us?"
"We don't have the muscle or the influence to stop it, Jon," Forrest admitted in a rare outbreak of honesty. "I wish we did. I really do. I like T'Pol. But I'd already been informed of this just before you called, with orders to stay out of it. And to tell you the same thing."
"This is wrong," Archer almost growled. "So wrong."
"I agree," Forrest surprised him. "I hate it. I just can't do anything about it. And I'm ordering you not to try anything, either. Don't leave the ship while you're there unless you're invited to the embassy or some other function. And if you go down, you keep your mouth shut, understand? The last thing we need is a diplomatic incident. I know how this sucks, Jon. All I can say is that someday we'll get ours back. I don't know how, but we will. Right now, though, the Vulcans hold the cards."
"What if I'm invited to the wedding?" Jon asked.
"You extend your regrets but duty compels you to stay aboard ship for the time being," Forrest had that one figured out already. "I mean it, Jon. We can't afford an incident. Please." Forrest's earnestness surprised Archer.
"All right," he said grudgingly. "I still say this is a piss poor way to treat someone we owe so much to."
"I agree," Forrest nodded. "I still don't have any choice, and neither do you. Forrest clear." The screen went blank and then displayed the Starfleet logo.
"Damn it."
STE
"I have decided to marry Koss," T'Pol told Soval without fanfare. "I have spoken to my mother. It appears that this is a plot to punish me for events that were beyond my control. You have been duplicitous with me, as has my mother. I do not appreciate that, but neither can I stop it. Know that whatever affection I had for you is gone. Know that the same is true of my mother. So far as I am concerned you are dead to me. I ask you to respect that and do not offer to speak with me again outside our professional relationship. For my mother there will be no need to speak to me at all after my wedding. I will not serve under your command ever again, nor will I answer to you in any capacity from this day forth."
Without waiting for a reply from the older Vulcan, T'Pol exited the visitors quarters and returned to her own, leaving Soval stunned and almost angry. Stunned by her abrupt withdrawal from his presence and angry at her having declared him dead to her. On Vulcan such a move was reserved for a member of a clan who had acted in such a disreputable manner as to be a shame to his or her clan.
T'Pol was telling her Guardian, what the humans would call her Godfather, that she was ashamed of his behavior. Of his duplicity in the meddling of her personal life as well as her professional life.
He found that the last three hours spent in meditation had been wasted.
STE
Once T'Pol settled onto the floor with a single candle and began her attempts to meditate, she finally allowed herself the pleasure of reviewing the last several hours of her life. Until now she had clamped down on her emotional control, thanking Delana Grix (wherever she was now) once more for the repairs to her neural pathways.
Something Commodore Archer had said came to her mind and would not leave. If Commander Tucker were here, he would be trying to find a way to get her out of the mess that others had created.
Yes, he would do that, T'Pol thought to herself, and an image of Tucker's smiling face came to her mind unbidden. Charles Tucker was, above all else, an honorable man. He would not stand for something like this.
It is too bad that people like Charles die young while those with so little honor live long and prosper. That thought stayed with her for a very long time as she tried unsuccessfully to enter meditation.
But it would not come.
STE
"Kov for you, milord," Julio called.
"Ready room," Trip ordered, already moving. He was seated in mere seconds.
"I'm in orbit over Vulcan," Kov said without preamble. "How many of the freed slaves were Vulcan?" he asked.
"Twenty-three," Trip replied. "Seventeen women and six children. All are in pretty fair shape physically, but I don't know about mentally. Emotionally. None of them want to speak to Delana much about 'private Vulcan matters'," Trip grimaced.
"As I suspected," Kov nodded. "We will transfer them to Argonaut when you arrive. The ship is capable of atmospheric flight and will eliminate the need for shuttling. I have already contacted my father, and he will have appropriate authorities standing by, including Vulcan healers. He will meet us at landing."
"We should be there in two hours," Trip nodded. "We slowed just a little to make sure you got there ahead of us."
"Good idea," Kov nodded. "All the arrangements have been made. I have said nothing of the other matters."
"Good deal," Trip nodded.
"I have spent much of the voyage studying the laws," Kov stated. "There is a ceremonial way for you to challenge the rival. I will teach you what you must do, and how. If you don't do things correctly it could cause a problem."
"I'll do whatever you tell me," Trip promised.
"Then I'll see you shortly, my friend."
STE
"Enter," Archer called absently when his door chimed. He turned as the door opened and instantly regretted giving permission to enter as he faced Ambassador Soval.
"Commodore Archer, I understand we are about to enter orbit over Vulcan," the older man said.
"Yes," Archer managed not to grind the word out.
"I must inform you that T'Pol will be leaving you when we-"
"Yes, we're aware of your little shotgun wedding, Soval," Archer did grind that out. "Anything else?"
"I understand your anger, Commodore, but do not forget-"
"There's no possible way for you to understand my anger, Soval," Jon had had enough of that talk. "Simply not possible. I always knew that you were low, you've certainly proven that often enough. Your hatred for humanity is palpable, though I have no idea what we've done to you to deserve it. I mean other than not being Vulcan."
"But no, there is no possible way for you to understand my anger, my entire crew's anger, over your treatment of the one Vulcan who had to courage to stand with us against the Xindi when we faced annihilation. T'Pol, her name and her memory, will be revered among mankind for as long as I can make it possible."
"I'm under orders to be nice to you, but I'm feeling a bit mutinous at the moment, so unless there's something else, feel free to find your way the hell out of here."
Soval regarded Archer in silence for a moment, realizing that he had, indeed, not truly understood the depths of the human's anger. The thing that made the greatest impression on him, however, was that this anger was on behalf of T'Pol, a Vulcan.
"Your affection for T'Pol does you credit, Commodore," he said gently. "It shows a growth that I did not think you capable of."
"No, the fact that I haven't dumped you out an airlock on the trip here shows growth," Archer replied flatly. "You've got all the cards for now, Soval. We have to play the game by your rules because somehow you've made sure of that. But mark me well. One day that will change. And when it does, don't think for a second that I won't remember every slight and slur. Not to me, because frankly your opinion of me is just about as important as the weather report on Andoria to me."
"But for my people, and for someone like T'Pol who has the moral courage to do what's right instead of what's 'logical', instead of what's 'expected', for them I'll remember. Whatever god you may kneel before, Soval, be it logic, Surak, or a graven image of some kind, you better ask that our positions are never reversed. Now, I'm sure I'm keeping you from stabbing someone who trusted you in the back. Unless you require me in my official capacity, feel free to get out."
With that he turned his back on Soval and returned to gazing out the portal at the starfield. His mood was dark of late, and he found himself thinking that he would soon be out of Starfleet.
There were other ways to make the Vulcans pay. Holding public office, for example. While being a mere starship Captain might not be the best job qualification for high office, negotiating a truce with three of the five Xindi races just might be. At least a start, anyway.
And there was the promise of technological exchanges with the Xindi as well. Not to mention the Andorians, who hated Vulcan with a passion normally reserved for ex-lovers.
Archer had always had a dream of uniting many races under a single banner in order to share knowledge and explorations, to see new worlds and meet new beings. He had always envisioned Vulcan being a part of that, probably because they'd always been a part of everything else.
But now Jonathon Archer was starting to see that it was possible to do something without Vulcan. Something like what Trip had done.
Something new.
He didn't hear Soval let himself out.
STE
"This way, ladies," Trip said formally, leading the Vulcan women and children freed from the Orion Syndicate outpost to the airlock where Argonaut, one of Kov's new freighters, was waiting for them.
"We are indebted to you, human," one older Vulcan woman said quietly, her bearing and tone as regal as any Queen Earth had ever seen. "May I have your name, that you may be remembered properly?"
"My people call me Grim, ma'am," Trip said evenly. "It's more of a title than a name. Started in jest, really, but it became something more over time. My real name was left behind. And you don't have to remember me, ma'am," he smiled softly. "I'm happy we could do it. And once we've finished here, you have my word we'll be looking for others. I don't know that we can find the others that may have been in your party, but we will be looking."
"You seem to be at war with the Syndicate," the woman regarded him carefully.
"I am," Trip nodded. "When I'm finished, there won't be a Syndicate. There may not be any Orions, either. Or Naussicans for that matter. Slavery is barbaric, ma'am, and I intend to put an end to it. One way or another."
"Take care, Grim, that thy fire doest not burn thee as well as thy foes. Keep thyself apart from their ways and remain thyself, lest they be victorious, even in defeat." With that she continued on her way, disappearing into the airlock and moving into the Argonaut.
"What was that all about?" Julio asked, having been standing nearby.
"Just thanking me," Trip shrugged, still digesting the words. "And offering me some advice."
"Ah," Julio nodded. "I couldn't catch some of it. Sounded like some of what she said was what they refer to as High Vulcan."
"What?" Trip looked at him. "What'd'ya mean?"
"I didn't know you spoke Vulcan, bossman," Julio said.
"I don't, other than a few words here and there I picked up from T'Pol and Kov," Trip told him. "She was speaking Earth standard."
"No, boss, she wasn't," Julio shook his head, looking at his boss very strangely. "She was speaking a very old dialect of Vulcan. One they don't much use outside certain ceremonies these days."
Trip was still looking at him oddly when Kov appeared in the airlock.
"Ready?"
"Huh?" Trip looked at him, mind still processing what Julio had said. "Yeah, yeah, gimme just a minute to brief Dru'hak and I'll be ready to go. Should we take any security with us?"
"No, we won't need them," Kov replied.
Trip turned to find Dru'hak approaching him. The Klingon had made a fine XO since Neera had gone. He was also Trip's friend.
"Milord," the towering warrior nodded. "Do you know how long you will be gone?"
"No, nor when I might get back," Trip admitted. "This is gonna be tricky to say the least. I've got a transponder beacon on me and I want you to keep it locked in. There's the possibility that I'll need you to beam me out. Me and maybe someone else, too."
"If there is the possibility of danger some of us should accompany you," Dru'hak noted.
"Can't," Trip shook his head. "Like I said, this is tricky. I'm tryin' to help T'Pol without it ruining her life more than helpin' us already has. She deserves better than to be treated like this. It's possible that this is gonna cause a problem. That's why I want you on the port and starboard swing while this plays out. It's not beyond the realm of possibility that the Vulcans would attack the ship."
"That would be terrible," Dru'hak tried to keep from smiling but failed miserably.
"I'd prefer it not come to that," Trip snorted. "But don't risk a single member of this crew on it not happening. If they brace you, defend yourself and call me at once. We might have to modify this plan on the run, so to speak."
"It will be done," Dru'hak nodded. "Good hunting, my Lord," he added.
"Yeah."
STE
"It is completely illogical to utilize two shuttle craft," Soval intoned, knowing that it would serve no purpose.
"You and the two EU diplomats are going to the embassy," Jon informed him civilly. "We are taking T'Pol to a place of her choosing along with an honor guard. Our way of saying farewell and thank you, since she requested we not have a ceremony for her leaving. For the time being I still command this ship, and that is how it's going to be." His voice was firm and brooked no argument.
"The President will hear about this," one of the State suits hissed.
"He sure will," Archer nodded. "Probably when I announce my candidacy for his office," he added with a sinister smile. Even Soval looked stunned at that. Jon didn't miss the look, and turned an outright smirk on the Vulcan ambassador.
"Life's on a wheel, Ambassador," he said evenly. "It always comes back around. Have a safe trip down." With that he turned and left the shuttle bay as the crew prepared to depart.
"What did he mean by that?" one Suit asked the other.
"If he's serious, this could be a problem," the other Suit almost whimpered.
"Explain," Soval managed not to snap.
"Archer's famous," Suit Two replied. "He's the most visible face in the Starfleet program and the hero of the Xindi campaign. If he really does intend to announce he's running for office, there are millions of people who will jump on board his platform as soon as he gives the word."
"You're saying he could actually win the office of President?" Soval had to fight to keep his shock and disbelief from showing.
"I'm saying that there's almost no way he can lose!"
STE
"Captain, we're getting a hail from the Embassy," Hoshi called as Jon made his way back to where T'Pol was waiting for Travis to ferry her down to Vulcan. "It's priority one," she added.
"On my way," he called and picked up the pace. Priority One from and embassy meant something big was happening. It wasn't wasted on an ambassador complaining about having a shuttle to himself on the trip down. Besides, Soval had only been gone five minutes.
"On screen," he ordered as soon as he got to the bridge. Jon was surprised to see the EU ambassador to Vulcan himself appear on the screen, and even more surprised to note the man's dirty and sweat stained face.
"Sir, what's wrong?" Jon blurted, forgetting protocol.
"Commodore, approximately ten minutes ago a bomb was detonated inside the embassy," the ambassador told him flatly. "It's right at noon local here, and the concourse was packed with people on their way to or from lunch. I'm afraid the casualty count is going to be high."
"What do you need from us, sir?" Jon asked immediately. "We're in orbit and can get a team away in minutes. Ambassador Soval and the State Department representatives are already on their way."
"We need any help you can provide, both with security and with the injured," the ambassador replied. "And we need as soon as possible."
"I'll have a security team and our doctor on the way in five minutes, sir," Jon promised. "Is there anything else I can do?"
"If your ship can spare you, it might be helpful to have you here," the ambassador admitted. "Your presence alone would ease the concerns of a great many people. I know there's really nothing you can do, Commodore, but. . .honestly, a strong military presence to reassure those who are panicking, or on the verge of it might help."
"I'm not military, sir," Jon pointed out. "Never have been."
"To Earth, you are," the ambassador countered. "You and your crew are the protectors of Earth, Commodore. I know none of you are comfortable with that and I don't mean to put you on the spot, but perhaps in this one instance it won't hurt to pander to it? I can't order you to of course, but it might help."
"Of course, ambassador," Jon replied. "We'll be on our way as soon as we can get loaded. Can we land in the compound?"
"Yes, the pad is clear except for shuttles carrying wounded to the hospitals. I'm afraid our facilities are a bit overwhelmed."
"We'll see you soon," Archer promised and the screen went blank.
"I want Hayes and a fire team in the shuttle bay in five minutes, geared up and ready to go," he told Reed. "Hoshi, call Phlox and explain what happened. Send two men to help him carry whatever he needs to the shuttle bay. Malcolm, the ship is yours."
"Sir, I should be going with you!" Reed replied.
"T'Pol has to go," Jon reminded him. "You're now the XO, Mister Reed. Travis is flying us out. That only leaves you, Anna, and Hoshi. Neither of them have any command experience."
"And no desire to gain any," Hoshi muttered under her breath.
"I'm sorry, Malcolm, but it's got to be you."
"Aye, sir," Reed nodded. "I'll call Hayes."
Jon hurried to his quarters and grabbed his personal gear, along with the phase pistol he kept there, strictly against orders of course. Since losing his ship in the Expanse he had accepted Reed's recommendation to keep weapons at various points throughout the ship, including in all senior officer quarters. He met T'Pol on the way to the shuttle bay.
"I'm afraid you'll have to share your ride, T'Pol," Jon told her, explaining briefly what had happened.
"I will accompany you," she said at once. "I may be of assistance to Phlox in treating the injured. Also it is possible that this will not be the only device. I have experience with defusing explosives."
"I'm really going to miss you," Jon shook his head. "Good enough. We'll have to come back for your gear, or have it beamed down. Arm yourself. You're still a Starfleet officer." She nodded and made her way to the nearest weapons locker where she selected a phase pistol of her own.
Hayes and eight MACOs were waiting in the shuttle bay.
"This will be cozy," Jon muttered. "Major, we're carrying Doctor Phlox as well. I think five plus you will be the limit, and that's going to have someone sitting on the floor."
"Yes sir," Hayes nodded and detailed three of his people to stand down. "If we need them, we can let them take Pod Two down once it returns."
"Travis, I think I'll take us down with T'Pol backing me up," Jon made another command decision. "That frees up one more seat. And it will have you at the helm if Commander Reed needs you," he added.
"Yes sir," Travis nodded. If he was disappointed not to be going he hid it well.
"I have everything I think I'll need to get started," Phlox came hurrying into the bay followed by two ratings carrying supplies. "If we need anything else, Ensign Cutler will be standing by to gather what I need and can use the transporter to send it to me."
"Good idea," Jon agreed. "Get aboard everyone and get strapped in. We're on the clock, here."
Nine minutes after the ambassador's request, Pod One departed Enterprise on its way to the EU compound with Jonathon Archer himself at the controls. Forgotten was the admonishment that he was to remain aboard ship. Of course, he had been invited, so it wasn't really violating his orders.
STE
"What the hell is goin' on?" Trip muttered as the bridge of the Argonaut seemed to flutter with activity.
"There's been a bombing at the UE embassy, Trip," Kov told him quietly. "There's no exact numbers yet but the casualties appear to be heavy."
"Can we help?" Trip asked, concern in his voice.
"Enterprise is in orbit and Commodore Archer is on his way down with Doctor Phlox and a security team," Kov informed him. "I doubt that we can render any aid that they could not."
"True, and I don't want Delana exposed to something like that, either," Trip mused. "A bomb on Vulcan," he shook his head. "Now I've heard it all. I wonder why, though."
"Perhaps more information can be gotten once we're down," Kov suggested. "I've had Dru'hak informed of the situation as well."
"Thank you."
"We're going to be holding for at least half an hour," Kov said. "Let's use that time to start familiarizing you with what's going to happen at the Kalifee."
"All right," Trip nodded.
"I know you are. . .different, anymore," Kov decided to say. "But will the atmosphere and gravity here slow you down? Make you weaker? Will it be harder for you to breathe, still, as it would be before. . .before," he settled for saying.
"I have no idea," Trip answered honestly. "I can call Julio and see if he knows."
It will not hinder you, Trip 'heard' inside his head.
"Never mind," he told Kov. "I've got it covered. I'll be fine." He spoke with such assurance that Kov didn't doubt him.
"Very well, then. The ceremony will follow a pattern that is centuries old. There is a specific point where you will have to sound the gong. That will be the signal that you intend to challenge for possession of the female."
"Possession?" Trip raised an eyebrow at that. "I don't want to possess her, Kov."
"This is the Vulcan way, Trip," Kov pointed out. "You either do it properly or you don't do it at all. It won't work. You're an alien, an outsider, interfering in a sacred Vulcan rite. Showing some respect and doing things properly might help you win over at least some of the people watching. You can use all the support you can get."
"Point," Trip nodded. "And I didn't mean any disrespect, Kov. I'm tryin' to get T'Pol out of a mess that someone else put her in, that's all. You made it sound like she'd belong to me or something."
"By the law of Vulcan, should you win, she will," Kov nodded. "She will become yours to possess. You may claim her as a bride or you may set her free, or you may simply keep her. That is a choice few make, but some males, despite Surak's teaching, are petty and somewhat cruel. T'Pol's family has abandoned her to this fate so she will be at the mercy of the winner."
"Then I guess I better make damn sure I win, then."
STE STE STE
Author's note; Thanks to LoyaulteMeLie for pointing out the 'correct' or 'canon' spelling of Kir'shara. Since I've already got twenty chapter of this stupid thing written it may be hard to find them all and correct, so. . . .please, if you don't mind dear readers, pretend that I fixed them all and spelled it correctly. I'd really appreciate that.
Thanks for the reviews! Hope you're entertained, since if you're not I'm just wasting my time, lol.
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