The captives
By panyasan
Chapter 9
Disclaimer : Enterprise and its characters are property of CBS/Paramount. The text of the conversation in the shuttle pod is taken word for word from the screenplay of the ENT episode These are the Voyages. I only changed the word 'chef' into 'Captain'.
Time-line: Takes place between 2155 (after the events of Terra Prime) and the beginning of the year 2156, just before the start of the Earth-Romulan war (2156-2160).
Summary: After the events of Terra Prime, T'Pol faces charges and is sent to prison. Meanwhile Trip is assigned to several projects and Archer works at Starfleet Headquarters. In this chapter, T'Pol tells her side of the story: her time in prison (2155-2156), her release and her conversation with Trip in the shuttle pod, as mentioned by Trip in previous chapters, and what happens after that.
Author's note: Thanks to my beta, KKGlinka. The ENT episode These are the Voyages is clearly a historically incorrect holo-program. As often occurs, in this so called historical document, quotes and events are taken out of context to meet the goal of the writer.
- Correction and Rehabilitation facility Lethizeh, U'tal province -
The room in which she had spent 300 Vulcan days and nights was 15 steps by 15 steps. T'Pol counted them every day, when she walked up and down from her mattress to the locked door. The room was cool, even cold at night, but being in a Human spaceship for four years had her made resistant.
The only items within her room were a mattress, also used during meditation, and her asenoi, a meditation fire pot, that helped her meditate. In the corner, tucked away, her vokau, a plate made of stone in memory of a loved one. She had obtained a candle, an effort that had taken her several weeks to accomplish, and placed it at the vokau. She tried to light the light every night.
Sometimes she questioned the logic of bringing the vokau. It reminded her every time of the little girl she had known so briefly, but loved so much. She had felt loss before, first her father and more recently her mother. She had grieved and still grieved them, but the loss had became such a part of her, she could not cope. Now, every time her eyes saw the pink symbols and the lines of the vokau, the blue line for Trip, the red one for her, and the little flame gave some light in her dark cell, she whispered the words, "you will not be forgotten."
Each time, the pain came back like the waves of a fire storm in the desert, tearing down her defenses. What made it worse, that the vokau also reminded her of Trip, how she missed and longed for him. She had to push away those emotions in order to avoid being overwhelmed. It was the logical way.
From the first day she arrived in Lethizeh, she had learned the hard way that her main priority was to survive. T'Pol found her way in the tedious work of day, in the repetition of the Kir'shara word by word during the lessons, and by trying to fight off her fellow prisoners. She became used to always being on guard, knowing any minute she could be be attacked or poked or made fun of in a brutal way by people who didn't have anything to lose.
But she did and she lost it anyway. She wanted to hold on to future. She thought long and hard about her life and what she wanted. She pondered Trip, trying to keep the memories of him alive, but her need to survive pressed her to keep those times short and random. A future with them together become more like a fantasy, never to come true.
T'Pol's days went by in their monotonous routine. She heard people talking, but it didn't reach her mind. She read the Kir'shara many times, but her katra stayed untouched. She looked at herself, going through all the motions. Her hands, eating breakfast. Her hands moving, when she worked in the fields or when she lit the candles for meditation. Every day the same. While her body was functioning, the rest of her was absent. She knew her thinking, logic, emotions, passions, memories, everything that made her was there, somewhere deep inside. But it was frozen, out of touch and she couldn't and didn't want to reach it.
She was totally alone, with no one for support, no one to help her in a cold and empty cell that was a reflection of her heart.
One day she was called to the warden's office. T'Pol was told her time as Ras-kur kling dah-leh-teh reh-leh steh-kuh (prisoner 2037) in Lethizeh was almost complete, but she needed a medical and psychical examination. T'Pol answered the questions during the psychical exam with the required detachment and precision, while mentally quoting the Kir'shara. They were only words to her, sounds and letters. The warden was pleased, stating she had gained some logic during her time. The second part of the exam was to sign a letter, thanking Lethizeh for their help in regaining her logic. When she handed the signed letter back to the warden, the warden told T'Pol that she would inform the authorities of her release. She also would communicate this to her old employer, Starfleet, via Captain Archer. Archer of Starfleet – it sounded like a name she had heard before, in a past.
Logically, she had known that her days in Lethizeh would end, but when the doors of the gates opened, she had to tell herself it was true. She stepped outside and for the first time in a long time she could feel a soft desert breeze. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the bright light. The sun was warm on her face. She took a deep breath, inhaling the desert, the familiar smells of her youth.
Yellow and orange, warm and tender, her beloved planet, greeted her.
They had arranged transport from U'tal province to the next space station and from there she was free to go. When she walked toward the shuttle that waited for her, she felt a itch on her neck. Below her right ear, for 360 long days, the monitor had been there. A collar to monitor her movements. Right before she stepped outside the gate, it was removed. In these sunny surroundings her moment of freedom had come. Somewhere in her cold heart, there was a small fire that reminded her of Trip. She reached out to feel Trip through the bond. There was nothing. She tried again. The world stayed as empty as before.
- Earth -
From the space station she chose the first ship to Earth. On the ship, she slept in her chair or stared at the ceiling. She tried to read, but she couldn't focus enough. The ship had few accommodations, so only when she arrived on Earth could she contact people. First Trip. She tried to reach him, with no effect. She moved on to the second person on her list and contacted Ambassador Soval, then Captain Archer.
The Ambassador offered his help. He didn't say much, but his whole attitude was one of support for which she was grateful. The captain made an appointment with her.
She needed a location to stay and she could only think of one place. She had bought a beach house in the San Francisco area one and a half years ago, using her mother's inheritance, when a chance presented itself. Due to the fact that the Vulcan state confiscated every possession of a prisoner, only her beach house and some credit on her Starfleet card was left to her. In the house, she was reminded that her other clothes and belongings were still in storage. She knew the old galley master of the Enterprise, Ensign Gilbertand his assistant, Ensign Mizuhito would be able to help her to gather any remaining personal items from the ship.
They were both very friendly, though surprised to see her. Especially ensign Mizuhito, who doubled as the barber from the Enterprise, and was a old friend of sorts. He had talked her into changing her hair style from time to time, if only in minor ways. This time, seeing her traditional Vulcan haircut, he sighed that on Vulcan they seemed to have only one kind of haircut. Her old hairdresser insisted he would cut her hair and put some highlights in it to cover the gray streaks. It was logical to change her hair to fit her altered circumstances. Very logical.
So looking now in the mirror in the bathroom of her beach house, the woman she was facing didn't look anymore at the woman in gray prison clothes with gray hair. But her face was a reflection of the days ahead. Deep inside she was the same as the person pacing a cell 15 by 15. She looked unVulcanly emotional and nothing like the stern, dispassionate picture of the person who stepped aboard Enterprise five years ago.
The next day she went to Starfleet Headquarters for her conversation with Captain Archer. Seated behind his desk, the captain looked up from his paperwork to greet her. "T'Pol. Please sit down."
She sat opposite of him and stared.
For the first time he really looked at her. His eyes widened and he stammered, "Well, you look... How..." Then he regained himself. "How long have you been back on Earth?"
"Four days, Captain."
"So, what are your plans?"
"Regain my position and return to Enterprise."
The captain fidgeted back and forth in his chair. "It isn't that simple, T'Pol. You can't just go back where you left off. Look, I appreciate that you want to join Starfleet again, but I don't think... It's complicated. Maybe you would be better off with a change of carrier. You could try the Science Department. I could recommend you." In an enthusiastic voice he continued, "In fact, I heard they have a very interesting science job. The report I received about this project stated they're getting impressive results. "
With great haste, he searched through his pile of PADD's and with an attempted smile he offered one to her.
She read the text on the PADD. "The Moon? The project is on the Moon?"
The Moon was the last place she wanted to go.
"It a great assignment, T'Pol. You'll fit right in," Archer answered with confidence.
She felt a strange emotion, welling up inside her. She once traveled through a area in space where no stars where to be found. It was unnerving to be glaring into darkness, searching for light, that wasn't there. She had the same feeling again, like the ground beneath her was gone and she was falling into a void in space, a darkness with no stars to guide her.
At that moment she realized it wasn't logic that led her to Earth or Starfleet. Logic had nothing to do with it. It was the longing of the bond that had driven her to go to the place where she could find Trip. Unconsciously, rejoining with him was her focus during her stay in Lethizeh, but there was no response from the bond and now it seemed they would be separated again by different assignments.
In a haze, she let Archer make arrangements and dazed, she walked out of Starfleet Headquarters. Taking the road near the garden, she suddenly saw Trip, walking towards Headquarters. He was accompanied by Lieutenant Kelby. He looked like lighting had struck him. "T'Pol," his voice cracked.
Thoughts ran through her mind. The fact that she couldn't feel the bond, even standing in front of him, was puzzling and confusing. She had made many mistakes, there were so many obstacles and painful memories. They hadn't been in contact for a year. He never expressed that he liked the bond. Why should he want to be bonded with a former prisoner? Was that the reason why he blocked the bond? she thought.
In the midst of her thoughts she became aware of Kelby's hostile glare and she greeted Trip back, "Commander," before walking past him.
When she finally reached her beach house, she went straight away to her bedroom and started meditating. It helped her become focused again. Once she was more settled, she went to the kitchen to make some tea. Staring into the cup, she evaluated her situation. There was still a spark of fire left in her and she couldn't stand her passive attitude. She didn't want to end like this. She had to speak to Trip. In the past, she had assumed too many things without speaking with him. The fact that she hadn't told Trip the truth and asked for his help, was the reason behind all her troubles.
Plunging through the Starfleet database – she knew how to access it – she had discovered that Trip was working on a classified project and visited Headquarters once a month. More research revealed that Trip was scheduled to leave tomorrow, first to the Space station Xerves on platform 3 with shuttle pod NX-001. Pilot: Ensign Mayweather. It took more time, but possible to travel from Space station Xerves to Earth's Moon, by arrangement. She was going to be on the shuttle. Now she only had to contact Ensign Mayweather.
The next morning, she made a short stop at the captain's office. He surprisingly engaged her in small talk, asking her if she'd been in contact with friends and acquaintances upon her return, even mentioning Trip. She listened patiently to his chatter, before he wished her well and handled her a PADD with her assignment.
Quickly, she went to the platform where she was greeted by Ensign Mayweather. He said that he had already told Commander Tucker that he would have company during the ride. When she stepped in the shuttle pod, she noticed his familiar smell. A head with blond hair turned around, his eyes widened, but he didn't say a word. The only sound was Ensign Mayweather, starting the engines.
Ensign Mayweather broke the silence. "We're going through the troposphere. Might get a little bumpy".
What's wrong with him? she thought. She didn't expect Trip to resume their relationship like nothing had happened, but at least he could say something to her. Shouting, fighting, sarcastic remarks, anything was better then this silence. She thought of ways to begin a conversation to get at least a response from him.
Her emotions were not noticeable when she found her opening line. "Have you been down to see the captain yet?" She was curious if he knew about the captain's discussion concerning her. Did he agree?
He opened his mouth for the first time. "First thing in the morning. You?"
She took the opportunity. "He talked about you."
"Me?"
"Us".
"What about us?" What about us? Do you still care about me? Is your affection so fleeting? Don't you think it's important? she thought. He didn't want to talk about it, she concluded and back-peddled.
"It's not important"
"Why bring it up?" he said very logically.
She answered truthfully with the question that was her mind. "Do you ever miss me?"
He tried avoiding her. "You mean..."
"Yes".
He didn't answer the question. "You know how long it's been."
That's why I asked you about missing me. Are you saying that it's been too long for us to continue? She remembered the rocky road before and after they discovered they were bonded. Maybe he didn't think they had a chance anymore and thought it ended. Answer the question, Trip, she thought.
"That's not what I asked you."
Trip seemed reluctant to talk. "Well. Yeah. I guess. Sometimes."
Sometimes. She weighed his words carefully in her mind. She knew that it was illogical to dwell on memories. Those memories of those days after the Expanse and the other times. And too painful. She need to suppress them, to survive like in Lethizeh. And suddenly they all resurfaced.
"I haven't thought about those days in along time," she said.
"Benefit of being a Vulcan," he responded.
A fire of anger rose up inside. You don't understand, she thought. There is no benefit. I work every day to control this stream of exploding emotions. You are Human, you don't live in fear that emotions will be your downfall, for you and others. His answers made her fear Trip didn't care anymore. Did he care that they going to be separated again?
"After speaking with the captain, I realized we may never see each other again," she brought the subject up, after she managed to suppress the upcoming anger and fear in her katra.
Trip was surprised. "What are you talking about?"
"We are on different assignments. There is no way of knowing."
Trip disagreed. "There is every way of knowing. I can guarantee you, we are not going to lose touch. Stop thinking like that."
His message of indifference had been that "he guessed he missed her sometimes," but still at the end it looked as if he was reaching out to her. It was confusing. She left him with an indication that she missed him and hopefully he would understand. "However long it may be, I believe I 'm going to miss you".
They departed, Trip to a unknown location and she took the first ship to the Moon.
When she reported to the head of Starfleet research department on the Moon, Dr. Philips objected of T'Pol's assignment, stating she would hinder their goals. They wanted to establish positive changes in how the people on the Moon, mostly sympathizing with Terra Prime's philosophy, saw Starfleet and bringing in a very well known Vulcan was not going to help the Moon Science Department. T'Pol was equally uncomfortable with being on the Moon again, so she said she understood. The doctor quietly arranged to transport T'Pol back to Earth.
She went back to the only place she could, her beach house. Alone in the house, she took time to meditate. In Lethizeh she had spent many hours in meditation, mostly trying to analyze and suppress her emotions. It was different now.
Once, she had told Trip that Vulcans need to control their grief, otherwise it would consume them. In the days to come, she experienced how true these words were. The few hours on the Moon had opened an old wound that hadn't been much tended and probably never would fully heal. She grieved about the little girl she once was a mother to and who she would never see growing up. It was like standing in a sandstorm while microscopic grains of sand penetrated your clothes and abraded your body. The pain remained in flux and there was no escape.
The pain of losing Trip was a different one, also fierce and raw, but mixed more with despair and self-contempt. The pain weighed high hard on her mind, sapping her energy. She realized Trip had offered her his friendship. A precious gift, but her heart wanted more. While she hadn't recognized it at the time, in Lethizeh she had concentrated on meeting her love once again as a light in the darkness. Now that prospect was gone.
Her meditation became more erratic; she had a hard time focusing. She hardly ate anything and the feeling of hunger stayed with her.
Memories ran through her head, flashes that moved like a whirlwind. During the day, she noticed that her turmoil caused her to daydream about the few good times Trip and she had shared. She rebuked herself for such idle waste of time. She should process those past years and find a way to live without him. She would, but for now she found her memories of Trip too comforting. So she allowed herself to daydream.
But at night her dreams were mixed with memories from Lethizeh and other difficult times, dark, cold as ice, with no air to breath, a place where her thoughts were consumed in the black fog.
In the midst of her turmoil, someone came to help her. Two days after she arrived from her short trip to the Moon, she heard the doorbell. When she opened the door, she saw the familiar face of Ambassador Soval.
He entered her house and she offered him some tea. He graciously accepted it. He took a seat on the one of the pillows in the living room, seated opposite him.
After they drank their tea in silence, he told her, "I understand your assignment on the Moon is finished. Because you are an alien on Earth you need work to maintain your residence permit. I took the liberty of finding you a job at the Starfleet Science Department. You will be translating Vulcan science articles into English for their magazine: the Science Monitor."
Shortly after he had explained her new job in more detail and discussed peripheral matters of employment he prodded sincerely, "Child, I can see you have some difficulties adjusting to your new life."
She had known the Ambassador all her life; he had been a close friend to her father and the father of two of her closest friends on Vulcan. She always paid him the respect he deserved as an elderly person, but there had been an underlying camaraderie in their relationship. Once she started working for him and accepted her assignment on Enterprise, their relationship had become more professional and work related. In the past years she had differed in opinion with the Ambassador over certain issues, but if she could choose any Vulcan for advice at this moment, it would be him. So she answered affirmative to his question and accepted his offer to meditate alongside him.
In the days to come, he visited her every morning. He would meditate in the living room and his presence helped her concentrate.
Also, work always had helped her regain order in emotionally troubled times, so she tried to bury herself in the work of translation. She was well versed in English, but she had been living in a Vulcan-speaking environment for a year and lacked the creativity needed in this work. Working for the Science Monitor cost her more energy then she had expected.
One of the reasons was also that the pain was still there, and the nightmares became less frequent, but they still plagued her.
After a week,she finally asked him the question that been on her mind.
"Ambassador, I noticed that your presence helps me greatly. I am in debt. I didn't expect any support. I know I acted wrongly."
"I agree that your actions in the Expanse lacked logic and were self- indulgent, but you received punishment for those. We must close that chapter of your life and concentrate on your recovery toward normal function," the Ambassador answered.
She had been thinking of telling Ambassador Soval about her grieving process. "Del'haiu," she started this difficult subject, "we discussed the importance of my recovery. There is one element in this process that I have not told you about. It's not simply the stay in Lethizeh that I need to analyze and process. I didn't fully process a certain strong emotion, so I still have to deal with it."
"Because it consumes you. Grief over a child always does," Ambassador Soval answered. "I thought as much. That's why it's only logical that I would help you. Grief is normal; the bond between a child and its parents is strong and losing this bond will unleash many overwhelming emotions. First you have denial, then rage, then acceptance. The pain always stays."
His words were insightful and she remembered his grief over his daughter's death after Enterprise had destroyed the Selaya. She found the courage to ask him another question."I find rage the most difficult of emotions. Still I harbor anger against..." She found it hard to express such a delicate matter. "When you heard that Captain Archer had given the order…."
Soval understood her underlying question. "Rage is closely related to our desire to protect the ones who share our affection. Captain Archer didn't seem to care about the Vulcans how died. Later, I understood the logic of his decision."
The remark trigged an emotion related to her own situation. Her breathing became irregular. "There is no logic in this," she bluntly stated about her own loss. The minute she said it, she regretted it. She denied logic, the basis and answer to all things in Vulcan eyes, and she had spoken disrespectfully against an elderly person.
The Ambassador didn't respond with a sharp remark, but said instead, "It is hard to find logic in your situation, child. In my case, Captain Archer chose his own people above the Vulcans. It doesn't matter if my daughter was also on the Seleya, because everyone who died on that ship was someone's mother, father, son or daughter. I find his actions morally questionable and the death of my daughter deeply disturbing, but I can understand his logic of choosing a healthy crew above a contaminated crew, of choosing to save Earth and many planets from the Xindi instead of saving a few Vulcans. Terra Prime acted out of malice and hatred. I can only accuse Captain Archer of indifference. His katra is closed to us." He paused. "Unlike your mate."
"I do not have a mate," she responded, emphasizing every word.
"Not officially. There were many indications of your relationship. Your conduct after your connection with Koss was one of them. You know Vulcan rules, you live as a couple one year together to make the marriage complete or you mate. You didn't do either. First you used an archaic custom of meditating on Mount Seleya for two weeks and then you went on and on with your negotiations. Then I worked with Commander Tucker on Enterprise and my observation of his behavior led me to conclude he understood Vulcan's ways much better then anyone aboard the ship. He has an open katra. Combined with other factors, it became clear to me."
He went on, "Commander Tucker is also the father of your child and as such a much more suitable support then I am. He came to me after the child died, asking me for advice to help you with your grief. He seemed very concerned about your welfare and about the fact that his emotions, as father of the child, bonded to the mother, would effect you. I taught him several meditation techniques. He did this while he was under great emotional stress. It showed me that Commander Tucker cares deeply about you. So whatever your situation is now, child, always remember that."
"I will," she answered. T'Pol was grateful for his advice and his openness. More then ever she felt a longing in her heart to talk to Trip. Fear had stopped her from telling Trip about her addiction and all the things that troubled her. It had left her with nothing. "Cast out your fear," she quoted the Kir'Shara in her mind.
Days went by with meditation and work. Three weeks after her return to Earth the Ambassador asked, after their meditation, for some tea and after she made one for both him and herself, he took a seat on her couch. Steam was wafting from the cup in his hands, but he drank the hot tea with small, determined sips. When he finished his tea, he said, "T'pol, I offered you my assistance for many reasons. One of them is our old friendship and my gratitude to your father, the others are political."
He got her attention. "Del'haiu, please elaborate."
"Hardly any detail concerning Vulcans in service escapes the attention of the High Command or their administrators. Now we are expected to believe that one of the most prominent Vulcans in service with one of our allies goes absent without leave and nobody protested against it or discovered it for two years? And what are the odds that just before this officer is facing serious charges, one of my children and his family are injured so badly in a mysterious shuttle accident, that I had to return to Vulcan?"
"It was fortunate that they all recovered. Concerning my resignation, I know I received a confirmation from the High Command, but..." she answered.
"You couldn't find it any more."
"No." She remembered her frantic search in her files and her despair when she found nothing.
"My conclusion is that someone with access to all the involved files went to great lengths to get you out of the way. They tried too hard, so hard it became obvious someone or some group has infiltrated both High Command and Starfleet," the Ambassador told her.
"A group with an agenda against the Coalition," T'Pol concluded.
"Yes. My suspicion has been confirmed by one of the old high-ranking ministers in the Vulcan High Command, Valis. Our contact was developed after I helped him reestablish contact with his son. He told me a disturbing rumor about one of Starfleet's most famous officers." He turned to her with a unexpected question, "T'Pol, explain the story of Surak and the game of Kal'toh."
Every Vulcan child knew this story. In a flash T'Pol remembered telling this story to her father when she was five. "Surak played a game of Kal'toh. He couldn't solve it. Then he saw that something was wrong with the placements of the rods. This led him to conclude rods were missing. When your logic concludes there is something missing, then it's probably true."
"Apply this to Captain Archer."
"There is nothing wrong with Captain Archer," she responded to his unexpected request.
"Concentrate; don't let your personal perception and other distractions cloud your judgment. Analyze your last conversation with him and look for the missing rods," the Ambassador demanded.
She did. Taking their conversation apart word by word, she relived their exchange. She analyzed his body language, his mood and the way he said the words. She compared their last meeting with his mannerisms during the time she served with him. The captain might have made mistakes, especially in the beginning with his prejudice against Vulcans. Nevertheless, he had tried to establish a friendly and professional relationship. Granted, he had changed in the Expanse, but compared with his latest attitude, rods were definitely missing.
"His behavior is off," she concluded. "He didn't want me back. Captain Archer and I are not close, but I have proven my loyalty and we had established a sort of understanding. That's gone. I can find reasons for his behavior, but they are not convincing."
"You learning again to use your skills. Good, you're going to need them. I tried to get a Vulcan on Enterprise and you're my best choice. I want you to return to Enterprise and find out what is going on with him. It will also help you to solve the mystery of who wanted you away from Starfleet," the Ambassador explained.
She knew exactly what this meant. "The Ministry of Security believes Captain Archer is contaminated. Shouldn't we inform Starfleet about this? Earth is on the verge of war and a possible breach of security is imminent."
"I share your concern, but we can't tell Starfleet that we suspect that their hero of the Xindi war is under the influence of an alien, probably a telepathic alien, without any solid proof. Not in this present situation," the Ambassador refuted.
"And how is this connected to my trial?"
"T'Pol, remember agent Tikol? How he ended up being brainwashed when he was undercover on Helix 3 and in isolation for more then a year? When he returned to Vulcan, his mate was the first to find out. The mate is always the first to know. The ones closest to us will notice something is wrong. Commander Tucker and you are the closest to Captain Archer on Enterprise. Apparently, they wanted you out of the way and used the trial for that purpose," the Ambassador answered.
T'Pol took some time to contemplate this new information. She found the situation as painted by the Ambassador very disturbing. One sentence kept playing in her mind. The mate is always the first to know. Captain Archer wasn't the only one whose behavior was conflicting. When she met Trip again for the first time since her imprisonment, near Starfleet Headquaters, he looked shocked. Then in the shuttle pod, he was pretending there was nothing between them, but in the end he promised her they also would have a connection. And why was the bond gone?
"Ambassador, would it be possible that more people in Starfleet have been influenced?" she asked.
"Influencing more persons would lead to more chances of exposure. Captain Archer is in this respect a perfect target, highly informed, founder of the Coalition, isolated, known for his hostility toward Vulcans. But they could be reasons to do so," he answered.
Was she reaching a logic conclusion? Did she not let personal interest and emotions influence her? T'Pol thought. And then without a doubt, she knew someone had hurt Trip. A female face appeared in her thoughts and the flames of rage filled her. No one was going to hurt her mate. She felt the urge to rip that woman's face into small pieces, of hitting her so hard she would beg for mercy for what she did to Trip.
She quickly suppressed her rage, suddenly aware of what was missing.
Trips passion was gone. He would do everything to protect her, like she would him, maybe more.
At the end of her reflection, she turned to the Ambassador. Some of the fury was still there when she said, "Get me on that ship."
There was silent approval in his eyes over her passionate plea, when he promised her, "I will."
After the Ambassador left, she ate a small meal - she still hadn't developed an appetite - and filled with thoughts about what she had heard, she started her meditation. Kneeling on the floor in her robes, gazing upon the candle, breathing in and out, she focused.
An old familiar tingle in the back of her mind begin to arise. Vague, weak. Then it was gone. There it was again, a gentle reminder of the bond. Someone was knocking on the door of her mind. She opened it and reached out, strengthening the little stream.
Through the mist of her white space, she saw the face she dreamed about every night and day. He was happy to see her. Their eyes made contact.
"T'Pol."
"Trip."
At the same time an excruciating pain exploded in her head.
Trip screamed, his Southern twang thicker then never before, "It's killing me!"
"Break the connection!" she shouted. "Now!"
She did the same and he was gone. The pain disappeared instantly. She was alone again. But not as alone as before and certainly more like the living again.
Translation of Vulcan words
Del'haiu - respectful title to address an elderly person.