Chapter Seven

Roman had spent the better part of the day meeting the staff and touring the ship. He was on his way to dinner when it happened. He entered the dining hall and there she stood…the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He stopped dead in his tracks, so did she.

Jon had only warned her of his uncanny resemblance to Trip. He had not prepared her for this however. He was in fact the spitting image of her dead husband. He even walked and moved like Trip. It was as if T'Pol had seen a ghost.

Roman grabbed his head and swayed, T'Pol stumbled, then slid to the floor.

"What is it? What's the matter?" Jon asked. Malcolm hurried to Roman's side as Jon helped T'Pol from the floor.

"He… is a t-tele…path," T'Pol gasped. "Apparently, a very powerful one… at that."

"I'm sorry," Roman replied. "I wasn't trying to access your thoughts. It's just when I came through the door all of these strong emotions hit me, and some of your thoughts. Forgive me. I would never take your thoughts without permission, but your emotions are so close to the surface that I couldn't help but to feel them. I let my guard down and some of your thoughts came in. I tried to block them and they cascaded back onto you."

"I understand," T'Pol replied. "My ability to control my emotions was compromised some years ago. At times I cannot suppress them as required, especially in the presence of other telepaths." With that Roman held his head and stumbled. He had to lean up against the wall to get his balance. T'Pol stumbled as well.

"Bloody hell!" Malcolm said. "What exactly is going on here?"

"You need to take her to your infirmary," Roman said. "Until she can get her emotions under control, we shouldn't be in one another's presence."

"Why is that?" Archer asked. "What's happening Roman?"

"You told me she was a touch telepath, but seems my telepathy is throwing her off balance. She's trying to connect with me. You should get her out of here, or I'll go."

"No!" T'Pol replied. "I will be alright. I just need a moment. I do not wish to ruin your evening." She then allowed Jon to help her up again. She straightened her clothes and looked at Roman.

"Forgive me Prince Roman," she said in full Vulcan façade. "I had no idea your appearance would be so…startling. As I said, I lost my emotional control some years ago and I find it even more difficult sometimes to maintain it in the presence of other telepaths, especially someone as strong as you are."

"It's okay, I've got a handle on it now. I can maintain enough control for both of us," Roman replied. For a moment there was an awkward silence as the two stared at one another. "By the way, I'm Roman Imperius, II…I'm Captain of…my ship… Vigilance and uh, the Crown Prince…uh down…there, he stammered." Jon and Malcolm couldn't believe how inarticulate he had suddenly become.

"T-T'Pol…of Vulcan…" she replied. "Ambassador T'Pol…of…Vulcan…to …Earth."

"Well, let's have dinner shall we…." Jon quickly intervened. They all sat and the officers quickly began to fill T'Pol in on their experience on Colloure.

"It's a beautiful planet T'Pol," Jon said. "You have to see it. They have water falls everywhere, even in the middle of the main city."

"The trees and plant life is simple captivating," Malcolm added. "Blue, green, yellow, orange, even purple. The sky even reflects rainbow like colors at certain times of the day."

"Sounds fascinating," T'Pol deadpanned. Roman just ate quietly, ever so often looking over at T'Pol. She tried her best to ignore his stares, but gave in intermittently.

"I understand that you are…unwedded," T'Pol said. Roman hesitated.

"No, I'm not married," he replied.

"Your child's mother?"

"Is deceased," Roman said. "She died during childbirth."

'Shit!' Jon thought, as he brushed his hand over his face, this conversation was getting dangerous, way too fast.

"That was almost two years ago, yet you have chosen not to remarry."

"I was never married to Sienna's mother," he replied. This time Malcolm flinched and looked at Jon as if saying 'do something.'

"Oh uhhh….Roman…." Jon tried to intervene. "What do you think of human cuisine?" is all he could think of to say.

"It's fine," Roman said quietly. "Actually, this dish seems very familiar, like I've had it before. Are you married Ambassador T'Pol?" Roman asked without missing a beat.

Malcolm dropped his fork and knocked over his water glass at that. "Sorry," he said sheepishly and quickly wiped up the spill.

"I was…" T'Pol replied with a slight quiver in her voice. "I am sure Commodore Archer has told you that my husband…was the Chief Engineer of this vessel for many years…he died." Roman slowly sipped his wine, set it down and forged ahead.

"But you've never remarried?" he asked. "A beautiful woman like you, obviously intelligent, extremely intelligent in fact, and you've never remarried?" One thing was for sure about Roman, he had no trouble getting personal if he wanted to know something.

"No," T'Pol said nervously.

"Don't you want more children?" he asked.

"What do you mean more children?" T'Pol asked sitting on the very edge of her seat. "I have no children."

"But you did have a child, a daughter, no?" Roman said.

'Bloody hell!' Malcolm thought, 'he's at it again!' "Uh, Roman, that subject may be a little too personal…" he began, trying to spare T'Pol's feelings.

"She brought it up," he replied. "She asked me about my child. Why can't you talk about yours T'Pol?"

"I'd just rather not," she said her voice noticeable shaky this time.

"Why not?" T'Pol did not answer. "You should be able to remember her without it causing you so much pain. And your husband, "Charles," wasn't it? You should also be able to remember him without it damn near killin' you. He wouldn't want you to grieve like this over him forever. He would have wanted you to move on."

"No!" she said rising, tears formulating in her eyes. "He is alive! He's alive I tell you and he wants me to find him!"

"T'Pol," Jon said rising. "Calm down. You know this isn't healthy. Maybe you should go turn in. Malcolm, please escort the Ambassador to her quarters."

"I do not need to be put to bed!" T'Pol shouted.

"No, she needs to meditate," Roman said. "How long has it been since you were able to meditate effectively? Are you still dreaming as well?" Suddenly T'Pol grabbed her temples as if in anguish. Roman grabbed his head as well as if in pain. T'Pol collapsed to the floor again. Roman pushed away from the table and shakily stood up.

"What the hell was that all about Roman?" Jon asked.

"We just had the equivalent of a telepathic fight," he replied still rubbing his forehead. "She started it."

"A fight, you just met for heaven's sake," Jon said.

"Like I said, she started it."

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Malcolm replied, "T'Pol is still somewhat fragile, even if she doesn't show it." Jon was still on the floor holding T'Pol in his arms as she started to stir.

"Why don't you take her to the doctor now," Roman said. "And I agree with Malcolm, she and I don't need to spend time together."

"Why?" Jon asked. "I'm sure this…whatever this is, will only get better in time."

"Commodore…she thinks I'm her husband," Roman replied. "Take her," he said. Jon and Malcolm looked at Roman then at T'Pol, then at one another. With that Jon lifted her and turned to go to sick bay.

Hours Later, Sick bay.

"How is she doctor," Jon asked looking down at the sleeping Vulcan.

"She came in greatly distressed," Phlox replied. "But after a little rest with the help of my hypo spray, and meditation, she is no worse for the wear."

"Did she tell you what happened?'

"Yes, she did."

"They weren't able to be in the same room together. What does it mean doc?"

"I am uncertain. Have you had a chance to speak to Roman yet?"

"No. But I will. I was on my way to see him when I thought I'd check in on T'Pol. Take care of her will you doc, she's been through so much over these last few years."

"I will do my best Commodore. Do you think it was wise to let them meet under the circumstances?"

"I don't know doc. I really don't know. I knew it was perhaps going to be difficult for her, but I thought it might…somehow…help both of them. They both seem to be so tortured. Let me know when she wakes up," With that Jon and turned left sick bay.

Jon's Quarters.

After dinner, Jon had invited Roman back to his quarters for a night cap, and to watch a sporting event, but Roman seemed unimpressed and distracted.

"Roman, we don't have to continue watching this if you don't want," Jon finally said. "I didn't mean to bore you. I just wanted to show you the same hospitality you showed us on your home world."

"My home world…right," Roman said.

"What does that mean?" Jon asked with a puzzled look. Roman closed his eyes then rose from the sofa where he'd been sitting.

"Nothin,' he said. "Look, think I'm gonna go…"

"Roman, I know we've only known one another a couple of weeks. But we've spent a lot of time together and I know something is bothering you. I know you want to tell me something."

Roman turned and stared at Jon for a few moments. "When we first met, I could sense that you guys thought you knew me," he finally said. "You still do."

"We've told you over and over again that you look exactly like our friend … Charles Tucker…exactly," Jon replied.

"I know, but there's more," Roman said hesitantly. "I'm not supposed to speak about it, it's forbidden."

"Roman you're on my ship and anything we say here is confidential." Roman did not respond, so Jon decided to go on a fishing expedition.

"A few days ago, back at the palace, you started to say something. You said you didn't really know if you were Prince Roman, but Zyan cut you off. What did you mean?" Roman sat quietly. He put his hand to his forehead as he rubbed it trying to soothe the headache that was building.

"I wanna show you something," Jon said. Then he walked over to his computer console and pulled a photo up. "This was Commander Charles Tucker III, my best friend."

Roman stared for a few seconds then he got up and walked over to the console. He stared at it up close then turned to face Jon. "I see what you mean," he finally said. "We…we could be twins."

"Or the same person," Jon replied. Roman whipped around. There, somebody finally said it.

"You think I'm…him, don't you. You always have, from the moment you first met me."

"It's not important what I think. It's important what you think."

"I don't know what to think," Roman replied wearily. "And after that business with T'Pol, I really don't know what to think. But how can I be him if he's dead?"

"I don't know," Jon said, "I can't answer that. But I'd be willing to explore it with you."

"T'Pol, how is she?"

"She's fine, just needed to mediate, like you said."

"She kept trying to connect with me," Roman replied. "She knows how to put up mental shields but she just wouldn't do it. She wanted me to hear her thoughts, feel her emotions. She's confused and in a lot of pain, Jon, emotional pain. If this keeps us, she's gonna be headin' for a breakdown. Already had one, I know," he continued. "But this time, she might not come back." Jon looked away for a moment.

"I don't know what to say," he finally replied. "Maybe…maybe I should just stop meddling. Leave this alone, just get out of here and let you go back to being the prince. Take T'Pol back home…and let her be."

"Jon, did you ever find yourself doing something, something really big and very important," Roman began, "but there was something about it that just didn't seem right."

"Yes. I've had that feeling about a couple of missions Enterprise was sent on, even about some of the decisions I made as Captain."

"That's not what I mean,' Roman replied. "What I'm tryin' to say is… what I mean is, what if something about your life that didn't seem right; your whole existence?" Jon raised both of his eyebrows and stared at Roman but didn't say anything.

"Okay," Roman finally said. "You showed me something a few minutes ago. Now, I want to show you something." Then he took the glass he had been drinking from and broke it on the desk startling Jon. He took a shard and cut his finger, startling Jon even more.

"What are you doing?" Jon asked alarmed.

"I bleed red blood," Roman said holding up is hand. "The only Collourians that bleed red blood are the Reds, the people that have red hair, eyes and facial markings. The Purples bleed purple, the Greens bleed green, and the royals, the Blues, bleed blue. Jon, not only am I the only Collourian with blonde hair, blue eyes, no facial markings or any markings, clear nails… I bleed red blood! That doesn't make any sense, but I'm not supposed to talk about it. The subject is forbidden."

"There were lots of other species living on your planet," Jon said, "did you ever encounter anyone else like you?"

"Alyira. She had black hair, brown eyes, and she bled red blood too."

"What about your doctor?" Jon asked. "Didn't he confirm your identity when you came back to the planet?"

"Yes. He showed me scans of my internal organs. Three heart vessels, one large filtering system, three pistons…"

Jon looked puzzled. "Pistons?"

"You call them lungs." Jon nodded.

"But he couldn't explain the red blood?"

"No. Nor could he explain my appearance. He just said, something must have happened to me the nine months I was missing. A virus maybe, alien drugs; perhaps living in alien environments, consuming their foods, breathing their air."

"But you didn't buy it did you?"

"No, not really."

"What made you doubt they were telling you the truth?"

"A feeling, gut instincts. But mostly, cause I had these dreams, all the time. I saw images of people, places events. I could never see faces though. And there was this woman… this exotic woman that would come to me in my sleep. She would talk to me, comfort me, reassure me. I loved her… even though I could never see her face, I knew that I loved her…and she loved me. It was so real, everything about her. Her presence was so strong, we had a powerful connection."

"That's why you couldn't really love Alyira, isn't it," Jon said.

"Yeah, because of a nameless, faceless woman that I only saw in my dreams," Roman said. "I had no idea who she was, but I couldn't forget her either. I know it sounds crazy. I tried to tell my father, my doctor, but they dismissed it. Then I was persuaded by my advisors to stop speaking about my dreams and visions, it made me sound unbalanced and the Crown Prince couldn't be crazy."

"Since you've been here Roman, have you had any dreams or visions? You said you had a moment of déjà vu in sick bay. What happened?"

"It was Phlox. I've seen him before. He is the only face that I can ever see in my dreams."

"Roman, Phlox was probably the last face Trip saw before he died," Jon said. Roman just looked at him. "Would you consent to letting him examine you?"

"Examine me?"

"Yes."

"I told you, my physiology is Collourian."

"But you said yourself that you didn't believe the doctor told you the truth. And, what about the red blood? Have you ever been seen by any other doctor?"

"No, only Racqueslier and his assistant, Vramarec. But, she's dead. When I became Captain of Vigilance, the Elder insisted that the palace doctor become my ship's doctor and that no one else was to ever touch me."

"Roman, let Phlox examine you. It's the only way to be sure. Either you're human, as I think you are, or you're not. Either you're Commander Tucker or you're not. Maybe you are Prince Roman. This may be the only chance you ever get to find out for sure." Roman held his head in his hands for a few moments. He then held up his hands as if surrendering.

"Alright," he finally said. "I'll do it. I'll let your doctor examine me. But I want Sienna examined too."

"Sienna?"

"Yes. I never knew what species her mother was. I'd like to find out if possible."

"Anything you want Roman. The doctor will take good care of you and Sienna, I promise. I'll set it up."

"Thanks," Roman said. "I'm gonna go now…I really need to say the prayers …to meditate. Probably won't sleep a wink tonight though. I need to check on Sienna too. Commodore, despite her species, who her mother was…Sienna is an amazing child. She's the best thing that ever happened to me. I can't lose her, ever. You see…I get the feeling… sometimes, that I know what it's like to lose a child, and I don't ever want to really know how that feels… Look this whole thing seems absurd doesn't it? The thought that I could be your dead friend… all of this seems impossible, huh?"

Jon looked away for a moment then said, "Roman, one thing I've learned in all my days of space travel, nothing is impossible and things are rarely, if ever, as they seem."

After Roman left Jon and had returned to his quarters he received a comm from the bridge, it was Renald.

"Renald this is the third time you've called me today," Roman said annoyed. "What is it this time?"

Prince Roman," he began, "I am simply trying to get an assessment of how long you intend to be on the alien ship?"

"As long as it takes! Why?"

"How long is that…Sir, if I may be so bold?"

"No, you may not be so bold! Major just who the hell do you think you're talking to?"

"Sir Roman I am simply concerned for your safety…"

"I'm a big boy Rey, I can take care of myself!"

"But Sir…what am I to tell your father when he asks…"

"Tell him whatever you want! Look Renald, I appreciate your concern for me, I really do," Roman said, "but quick checking up on me! Your incessant hovering and spying is really starting to get on my nerve. So give it a rest! Roman out!" and he cut the communication.

Renald stood on the bridge of Vigilance fuming. He looked at the comm officer beside him who had a slight grin on his face. Renald reached over and slapped him hard, knocking the young man out of his seat. He then punched the Science console, causing the officer to jump out of the way to avoid being struck. He had just grabbed the helmsman and drew back his fist when Zyan entered the bridge.

"Major!" he shouted and Renald jerked around at the sound of his voice. "Stand down!" Renald only growled. "I said stand down, that's an order!" Renald finally let go of the young man and abruptly pushed past another crewman out into the corridor. Zyan followed him.

"Renald! Major Renald!" he called out grabbing him and pushing the angry officer into the bulkhead.

"Remove your hands from me!" Renald snorted. Zyan slowly let him go.

"What is the matter with you?" Zyan asked. "You have been acting so stupid lately!"

"Stupid! You won't think I'm so stupid when something happens to Roman over there on that god forsaken excuse for a star ship! What is he doing over there anyway? Why has been there so long and…and who the hell is he with?"

Zyan got right up in Renald's face. "It's none of your business," he snarled. "The Prince does not have to answer to you, me or anyone else, other than Lord Roman the Elder. So do not contact him again."

"What?"

"You heard me. Do not call over to that ship again," Zyan said, his purple eyes glaring as if they would bore a hole into Renald. Both men stood angrily staring one another down. Finally Renald relaxed his body. Zyan then took a few steps back.

"Look Renald, you are the chief tactical and security officer. You do a fine job protecting the crew and the Prince. No one would ever question your resolve."

"How can I protect him if he doesn't tell me where he is at all times," Renald blurted out. "What if something happens to him over there? What if he gets ill? What if he is abducted again?"

"Renald, Roman can take care of himself, you know that… Look, no one blames you for what happened to him all those years ago. It was not your fault."

"It was on my watch!"

"You cannot keep eyes on him 24-7!"

"Precisely my point!"

Zyan lowered his head, then looked up at his junior officer. "Look my friend, your concern for Roman has started to come across as possessive, especially of late, and bordering on obsession, and I'm not the only one who has noticed. Now, for your own sake, back off. I'm telling you this not as your commanding officer, but as a friend. Now, go, get some rest, and think about what I have said." Renald was standing against the bulkhead with his arms crossed in front of his chest. For a moment it seemed as if he would not relent, but he finally moved away slowly.

"Aye…Sir," he said, quietly. "And thank you," he said as he began to walk away. Zyan watched him go then blew out a long sigh.

"He is just… so weird," he said, before walking away in the other direction.

The Next Day.

T'Pol stood outside of Roman's door. She knew what had happened the night before and she was unsettled by it. She knew it might be dangerous for her, but she had to see him, to talk to him alone. She knew if she could spend some one on one time with him, she could get some answers. So with meditation last night, a good night's sleep with no dreaming, more meditation this morning and a solid meal, she felt refreshed. Her mental shields were in place and she felt very much in control. So why she was standing outside of his door staring at the chime, she did not know.

Finally the door slid open as if on its own. "You don't have to stand out in the hallway, you can come in, you know," Roman said then walked away from the still open door.

"Good morning," she said upon entering.

"Good morning," he replied as he plopped down on the sofa across the room.

"I know you said that until I could properly control my emotions and keep my shields in place, that we should not be in one another's presence, but I had a lot of success with my meditation last night. I slept well and was able to successfully meditate again this morning. Therefore I am feeling quite refreshed. My control is intact."

"I know," he said. "Can I get you anything?"

"No. I came to apologize for last night. My behavior was inappropriate."

"You didn't have control of yourself, no need to apologize."

"I should never have tried to… or allowed you to access my thoughts the way I did. I wanted you to know what I was thinking, and since I couldn't touch you, I allowed my mental shields to come down. But my emotions were too out of control and when I tried to regain them, I could not. I did not mean to cause you pain."

"Yeah, not many people can do that to me, how is it that you can, especially without touching me." T'Pol did not answer right away.

"May I sit down?" she asked. He gestured for her to sit. She walked over and sat right next to him.

"I would like to spend some time with you. To get to know you."

"Why?"

"You seem…agreeable," T'Pol said, for lack of a better word. Roman laughed.

"I am anything but," he replied. "Some people say I'm really a tough son-of-a-bitch to get to know, or to like."

"I… like you." Roman looked at her intently for a few moments.

"I'm not him T'Pol," he said. "I'm not Trip."

"I did not say that you were."

"Oh, but honey, I know you think it. But, tell you what, I'll make you a deal. If you will agree to spend time with me, and I mean with me, Roman Imperius, and give me a chance to get to know you, without mentioning Trip, then I could handle that. Getting a little tired of hearin' about him," Roman said. "I would like very much to spend some time with you under those conditions."

"That would be most agreeable," T'Pol said. "Would you please join me for lunch today?"

"Mess hall?"

"No, my quarters. I would like time with you alone, and people tend to gossip. People gossiped about me and Tr…." I am sorry," she said after catching herself.

"That's okay, I'll give you that one. Lunch it is then, 1200 hours?" T'Pol nodded and turned on her heels and exited the room.

"Okay Roman," he then said out loud. "Just what the hell do you think you're doin?" Then he left the room, collected Sienna from Kimorra and headed for sick bay.