For As Long As Ever Lasts
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Enterprise is the property of CBS/Paramount. All original material herein is the property of its author.
Chapter 6: Echoes
T'Les had made certain this time that T'Pol was not forced to choose between her mother and anyone else. With the High Command's attack imminent, and Archer intent on finding the Kir'Shara, T'Les had urged T'Pol to stay with her captain, while T'Les remained behind to oversee the evacuation of the Syrrannites from the sanctuary. Their parting was hurried but warm, between a mother and daughter who had finally become friends.
That made it even more difficult for T'Pol when she, Archer, and T'Pau clambered out of the catacombs, with the Kir'Shara cradled safely in the crook of Archer's arm, and they were greeted by the sight of the sanctuary being blasted into rubble by the relentless Vulcan strike force.
The three peered down into the burning wreckage of shattered stone columns and collapsed chambers, trying to see through the smoke and debris being thrown up with each successive explosion. They could discern no movement within the ruins. It was impossible to tell whether the Syrrannites had escaped or had all been killed in the attack. T'Pol could not quell the apprehension growing within her regarding her mother's fate.
Trip was ordering extra personnel to the decompressed section of C-Deck when he first felt it...a vague sense of foreboding, deep in the pit of his stomach. But he'd already gotten a detailed damage report from Malcolm: the hull breach had been sealed, the injured had been moved to sickbay, and repair teams were already tackling the damage. His people were on top of everything; there shouldn't be any surprises.
The nagging sensation inside him only grew, though. As he restlessly prowled the bridge, Trip crossed to the science station, trying to focus on something else. Soval was attempting another long-range scan of the Forge to locate Captain Archer and T'Pol—again, no luck. The Vulcan ships had chased Enterprise too far out to pick up anything through the area's dampening field.
As he hovered beside Soval, Trip's nebulous unease suddenly ignited into crystal-sharp panic, spreading through his body like wildfire. He sucked in a breath of shock as he felt a horrific pain searing its way through his heart—but somehow he knew the pain wasn't physical. What the hell...?
T'Pol fell to her knees beside her mother's bruised, broken body, gently gathering her up. T'Les had been struck by a stone column as the chamber blew apart around her. She was still breathing, albeit shallowly. T'Pol fought back her rising panic. "Mother?..."
The older woman's eyes drifted open. She looked relieved to see her daughter. "I was afraid you were still inside."
T'Pol could already feel tears welling behind her eyes. "It's all right," she said, trying to sound calm but failing miserably. "We found the Kir'Shara."
T'Les held her daughter's arm lightly. She could sense T'Pol's tremendous inner conflict, her struggle to keep her emotions in check. If only it had not taken so long to discover the key to her child's peace... "You have always struggled so with your emotions. I came here—I did all this to help you."
What could be so vital that her mother's life was a just price? "Mother, I don't understand..." T'Pol's voice broke.
"You will," T'Les said softly.
At this moment, the future didn't matter to T'Pol. All she could see was here, now...her mother in her arms, dying.
Soval's eyes flicked up at the sound of Commander Tucker's soft gasp. The human was in obvious distress. He angled away from the rest of the bridge, clearly unwilling to let his crew witness his difficulty. "Commander?" Soval said softly.
Trip knew his cover was blown with Soval, but for some reason, he didn't care. The rest of the bridge personnel, that was something else. He didn't want everybody in an uproar, not when he didn't even know what was going on.
The terror was overwhelming him, the anguish in his heart worsening with each passing second. The notion that he was having an actual premonition of disaster seemed like a bunch of hooey, but he had to make sure. "Malcolm?" he called, bending over Soval's console, as if studying the data there. "Ship's status?"
"Dr. Phlox reports that none of the injured are in serious condition," Reed reported. "C-Deck has been repressurized and emergency bulkheads raised; damage control teams are inside now. All is proceeding apace, sir."
Trip couldn't get a clear view without giving himself away, but Malcolm's voice was calm enough. "Thank you." He was being assaulted by emotions now—hopelessness, fear, and a bottomless grief that threatened to swallow him whole. He pressed a hand to his chest, shutting his eyes, struggling to take a full breath.
"May I be of assistance?" Soval asked in a low voice.
"I don't know," Trip whispered helplessly. "I feel...I'm feeling..." The emotion had him tight around the throat now, making it difficult even to speak.
Soval rose. "Perhaps you would be more comfortable elsewhere."
Trip met the old Vulcan's gaze and nodded gratefully. Steeling himself, he turned and started toward the captain's ready room, willing himself not to stumble. Soval fell into step with him, staying close by his side.
"We'll be in the ready room, Malcolm," Trip said. Amazingly, his voice sounded normal.
"Aye," Reed nodded, hardly glancing up from his console.
T'Les reached up to touch her daughter's cheek. T'Pol, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, latched onto her mother's hand. She remembered countless days as a child, clinging wordlessly to T'Les like this, unable to convey what she felt.
Don't go...
As her long fingers spread carefully across T'Pol's face, T'Les began to whisper in a soft cadence. T'Pol could not make out the words over the crackle of the burning debris around them. She leaned closer, finally hearing— "...Our minds are merging...our minds are one—"
—With a gasp, T'Pol found herself standing in the sand garden at home. There was a curious glow to it...every surface, every grain of sand and drop of water flowing from the fountain, seemed to shimmer with an inner light. T'Pol herself was glowing, she found, when she held up a hand. As she moved her hand through the air, it left a skittering trail of light dancing in its wake.
The air was different too, warm and thick with...emotion. It suffused the garden like the pulsing heat of a summer's day, flowing around her and through her. T'Pol breathed it in, tasted it, and knew the source was...
T'Les. She was standing before T'Pol now, whole and strong again, her hand still on her daughter's cheek. T'Les was glowing as well, more brightly than the rest. It seemed to T'Pol that her mother was the source of all the light, the wellspring of the emotion that caressed her with such warmth and affection.
T'Les smiled gently at her daughter. "I love you, my T'Pol. I have always loved you. I realize I never told you, but such things are not given voice among our people."
T'Pol smiled back at her mother. It seemed such a natural thing here, the two of them sharing smiles. "It is liberating to speak the words aloud, is it not?"
"Indeed." Then her mother's smile faded. "I'm sorry," she said.
"For what?"
T'Les looked beside T'Pol. A shimmering, glowing Trip was standing there now, giving T'Pol the warm, dimpled smile that he reserved only for her.
"I did not realize at first that Commander Tucker was in love with you," T'Les confessed. "I sensed it when I touched him."
T'Pol could see an image behind T'Les, a memory given shape and substance...Trip and her mother in their formal robes for her wedding. She watched as the image of T'Les fastened Trip's collar, then ran her hands down his sleeves, her touch lingering for a moment as she regarded him thoughtfully.
As the image faded, T'Les said, "Now I understand fully. I hope you will forgive me someday, T'Pol. I thought my secret was more important than what is in your heart."
T'Pol keenly felt her mother's regret. Wishing to ease it, she said, "Commander Tucker and I did not lose each other entirely. We have reconnected as friends."
"But your love only grows...especially now." T'Les looked to T'Pol's other side. She turned to see Lorian beside her, regarding her with the tiny, impish smile she had come to cherish. T'Les gazed at his image in wondrous silence for a long moment. "So this is Lorian, my grandson." She arched a refined eyebrow. "You said he has his father's blue eyes, but who is to say they are not mine?"
T'Pol was pleased by her mother's easy acceptance of Lorian. "He wanted very much to meet you."
More images coalesced around them, memories of Lorian drawn from T'Pol's mind. Their first encounter in the Expanse, in Enterprise's conference room...their sorrowful embrace after the death of old T'Pol...the Launch Bay, as Lorian told T'Pol and Trip his theory regarding Koss's reason for marrying her...their heartfelt farewell days ago, before Enterprise left for Vulcan. T'Les drank them all in, like a parched traveler at an oasis in the desert. "He is an extraordinary man," she remarked. "The best of both you and Commander Tucker."
As the images faded, T'Les returned her gaze to T'Pol and Lorian. Karyn was standing arm-in-arm with Lorian now, regarding him with a serene smile. T'Les studied the new arrival with interest. "And this is Karyn, who will be your daughter soon."
T'Pol looked on her son's fiancée with fondness. "She has proven herself a worthy mate for him, and he has given her his heart."
More of T'Pol's memories came to life around them: Lorian and Karyn storytelling to their crew in the observation lounge on Enterprise, dancing together at Callahan's, working alongside Trip and T'Pol in engineering. "A true partnership," T'Les observed. "As it should be between bondmates. I am pleased."
She smiled at T'Pol again. "I feel your love for your son. And I cannot help but love him as you do..." She was glowing more brightly, so brightly that T'Pol almost could not look at her. As T'Les embraced her, T'Pol felt a rush of love, warm and everlasting. She held her mother close, giving her own love freely, feeling it accepted. Both women were glowing vibrantly now.
Then, suddenly, T'Pol was alone in the garden, her arms embracing empty air. She looked around in confusion—
—And saw the crumbling ruins of the sanctuary. Only seconds had passed.
The meld was broken. T'Pol's mind was alone again, so alone...and her mother's consciousness was far away, in her own body, her life force fading as her hand slipped from T'Pol's face. "I'm so proud of you," T'Les breathed, her expression peaceful as her eyes held her daughter's. "My T'Pol..."
"Mother," T'Pol whispered desperately. "Stay with me, Mother..."
T'Les sagged against her. She was gone. T'Pol felt her grief enveloping her heart completely, stealing away breath and light, wrenching tears from her eyes, leaving her bereft and alone in the darkness.
The door to the ready room closed behind Soval just as Trip's knees buckled. Soval caught him, helping him into a chair. "Shall I call Dr. Phlox?" he asked.
Trip shook his head, grimacing as an enormous wave of grief crashed through him. "No...no...this isn't physical." His vision was blurring. He rubbed at his eyes, and was surprised to find them wet with tears. "It feels like...God, like when I first looked down into that trench in Florida, where my hometown used to be...where my sister's house used to be. For a moment I pictured her down there, trapped under the rubble, and I was terrified that she'd been waiting three months for me to get home and dig her out. And then it hit me...she wasn't down there. She was gone. She was dead."
He turned to Soval. "This isn't my grief I'm feeling. It feels like...somebody else's. What the hell's goin' on?"
Inwardly, Soval was astounded by what he was witnessing. He would not know with certainty until he spoke with T'Pol, but he had little doubt that Tucker was feeling the empathic echoes of a mating bond. If true, it was an extraordinary development—unprecedented between Vulcan and human, as far as Soval knew. It would also provide a possible explanation for the connection he had sensed between the two some days ago. Commander Tucker certainly seemed unaware of a bond, if his baffled reaction was any indication. Apparently it had begun to manifest without his knowledge, or presumably, T'Pol's. Even more remarkable.
Spotting a carafe of water on the table, Soval poured a glass and placed it in the commander's unsteady hand. It would not be wise to discuss the bond until T'Pol was present; Tucker had already expressed his uneasiness regarding the subject. In any case, T'Pol's marriage made the situation infinitely more complicated. In truth, Soval did not know whether to speak at all. He had no wish to give them simply another reminder of the future they had been denied.
"It is possible that you have latent telepathic abilities," he finally offered. It was a form of the truth, after all. "You could be sensing the emotions of someone at the Syrrannite camp, if there was an attack."
"I'm an engineer, not a psychic." Trip sipped the water gratefully. The overwhelming emotions were finally beginning to ebb, but he was still worried as hell. "Do these mind-melds of yours work long-distance? Is somebody messing with me—trying to make me think the captain and T'Pol are dead, so we'll give up and leave?"
Wishing to allay the commander's fears, Soval replied, "On the contrary, I believe T'Pol is very much alive." He hoped Tucker would not ask directly about Archer. Judging from the intensity of the bond echo, the probability was high that T'Pol had lost someone close to her. That would mean her mother, or her captain.
Trip latched hopefully onto Soval's statement. "Do you know something I don't?"
Carefully, Soval sidestepped the commander's query. "I know that if V'Las were foolish enough to harm them, it would be tantamount to an act of war."
Trip scowled. "I don't think V'Las gives a f...I don't think he cares if he starts a war. You said yourself that he'll do anything to get what he wants." Under his breath, he muttered, "Reckless, ruthless passion..."
Soval frowned. "An unsettling attribute for a Vulcan, but an apt one for the perpetrator of these crimes."
"Lorian came up with that. Pithy kid, isn't he?"
The description was deeply troubling. It reminded Soval of V'Las's true motive for targeting the Syrrannites: to eliminate them as a possible obstacle to his goal of launching a war against Andoria. "If V'Las is allowing his emotions and personal desires to dictate his actions to the point of rationalizing murder," he told Tucker, "even the possibility would be justification enough for removing him from power until he can be questioned by the rest of the council."
"That's a start." Trip splashed water from the carafe on his face. He was feeling steadier now. "I think it's ending, whatever it was." He looked pointedly at Soval. "You didn't answer my question, Ambassador."
"Soval. I am no longer an ambassador."
"Soval. How do you know T'Pol's all right?"
"I cannot say with certainty," the Vulcan replied, after a moment's pause. "You will have to trust me."
Trip kept his curiosity in check, for the time being. "I trust you. But you owe me the end of this conversation."
"You shall have it. As soon as an end presents itself."
Trip ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "I guess I shoulda known there'd still be times I'd want to strangle you."
Soval inclined his head in assent. "It is inevitable, when two disparate personalities become friends."
Friends. Trip liked the sound of that. "Did you and Forrest fight?"
"We engaged in spirited debate, Commander."
"Meaning 'yes'," Trip concluded. Soval arched an eyebrow, and Trip smiled. "And feel free to call me Trip. I know Vulcans don't use nicknames, but I also know you're not a typical Vulcan."
Soval dutifully tried it on for size. "Trip..." He looked as if he were examining a peculiar new lab specimen.
Trip laughed out loud. It was a much-needed release, after feeling so much sorrow. "Don't hurt yourself."
Soval shook his head regretfully. "Perhaps...with practice."
Trip got to his feet, doing a quick self-diagnostic. Everything seemed back to normal, though he knew the memory of that emotional agony would stay with him. "I've got to get back to work. Shall we, Soval?"
Soval stepped to one side, allowing Trip to precede him. "Indeed...Commander."
Trip chuckled as he led the way out.
-tbc-