A little bit of back story on how Trip met Janos to start with along with some thrilling heroics. . .wait, wrong fandom. Anyway, I own no part of Enterprise and claim none, make no money from these feeble efforts, and it's completely okay not to sue me. Also, Janos and other original characters belong solely to the writer (that'd be me) and may not be used in any way shape or form without my expressed permission. Have a nice day!

STE STE STE STE STE STE

Chapter Twenty-One

"And so that's what's happenin' at the moment," Trip finished bringing Janos up to speed.

"Well, you've had quite the few days, haven't you?" Janos leaned back into his chair. "Married now as well," he added with just a hint of malicious glee. His smile died off however as he thought ahead.

"Charles, you realize I hope that. . . ." he trailed off, unsure of how to proceed.

"I know," Trip nodded somberly. "He told me. It is what it is. He says that she'll help me. Teach me patience. Says I have to listen to her as she does so. That I have a lot to learn and T'Pol is the start of that."

Janos felt a great burden raise from off his shoulders at those words. He had spent much time in reflection over Charles Tucker. He had acted in his own passion, in his own anger, and that action had come very close to creating a serious problem. Had Charles' symbiot not be. . .different, then Janos might have been forced to do something distasteful and heart breaking where Charles was concerned.

"Do you remember when we met, Charles?" he asked suddenly.

"Yes sir," Trip nodded, thinking back to that day long ago. "Kinda hard to forget."

Fourteen year old Trip Tucker was on the beach when it happened. He didn't know the girl, had never seen her before, but he recognized the dorsal fin emerging from the water.

He was in the water before he had time to think, swimming with powerful strokes borne of determination, fear, and a lifetime of living on the ocean. By the time he'd reached her there was blood everywhere in the water and the shark was returning.

Trip had taken the girl's shoulder and began swimming desperately for the shore, knowing all the time that he would never make it before the tiger shark returned to finish the job, and probably Trip Tucker with it. He could have released the girl and made for the shore himself and probably survived. No one would blame a teenager for that. No one would hold him responsible.

It never crossed his mind.

As the shark bore in, Trip timed his actions carefully and just as the beast came in for the kill he kicked out, catching the predator on the snout. Pain and surprise made the shark turn away, swimming angrily into deeper water before beginning a lazy turn that would allow it to line up another attack.

Trip watched the fin turn, knowing he wouldn't be that lucky again. He was beginning to tire, too. The woman had been struggling at first, but had passed out from loss of blood. He kept a tight grip on her, still fighting for all he was worth. He might not make it, but he wouldn't quit.

It seemed as if the shark moved in slow motion as it approached from a different angle this time, almost as if it realized that Trip was too tired to maneuver around it. As the huge predator came on, Trip closed his eyes, not wanting to see the end. His parents would grieve over him and he was filled with sadness at that. But they would probably be proud that he tried to save the girl. It would have to do.

His eyes snapped open as the sound of splashing and struggle came to him without the accompanying feel of the attack he'd expected.

He saw a large man before him now, grappling with the shark. At first Trip was sure the man was dead, the ten foot shark being more than a match for any man. But his rescuer was not just any man.

"Hurry, child," the man said over his shoulder. "For the shore, quickly now!" Startled from his stupor of amazement, Trip began kicking once more toward the shore, dragging the woman with him. By the time he reached the beach he was exhausted. There was a woman waiting at the water's edge, and with a surprising strength she pulled both Trip and the injured woman from the water, dragging them well up onto the beach.

Exhausted now, Trip could only lay on the sand gasping for air as the woman checked the girl over. Girl was a misnomer, really, since she had to be late teens or even early twenties.

He saw the man wading from the water, blood covering him but looking uninjured despite that. Finally his exhaustion claimed him as the man knelt beside the injured girl, and Trip went to sleep.

"You've come a very long way since that day, Charles," Janos was saying as Trip shook himself out of that memory.

"Several light years," Trip nodded, joking, and Janos chuckled at that.

"You have a much longer journey ahead of you, my boy," Janos turned serious again. "Learn to insulate yourself against the pain of loss, Charles. Enjoy the time you have with T'Pol, with Archer, with all of them, but. . .remember that while you will remain, they will not. It is the bitterest of lessons that we must learn, Charles. For all the gift that time such as ours can be, there is always a payment. Always a loss for each gain. Her life, their lives, will look like the blink of an eye to you one day. Cherish the time, my son, for it will be gone all too quickly."

Trip knew that Janos was speaking from personal experience. He didn't know the experience, but he could hear it in the man's voice.

"What happened to the girl?" Trip asked suddenly. "From the beach? I never knew. I didn't even think to ask when I saw you again the day I came calling."

"Oh, she's around somewhere," Janos smiled easily. "It sounds like Archer has grown some, by the way," he changed the subject, getting back to business. "What about this girl, T'Pau?"

"She's different," Trip nodded. "And according to whatever Surak told him, she's the future of Vulcan. Believe it or not, that's the one thing that Jon and Soval can seem to agree on. He said the same thing to me while we were waiting for the Vulcan fleet. I don't know what makes her special, mind you. For my money they don't either. Not yet."

"Perhaps it was the way she was raised," Janos suggested. "She will lack many of the preconceptions that Vulcans are taught about us. And she will likely be free of the prejudice against non-Vulcans that seems to permeate their culture. That alone makes her something special. Perhaps she can lead the Vulcans to join the rest of us in an open society, Charles."

"Hadn't thought about that," Trip nodded, clearly thinking. "Guess I better make sure nothin' happens to her."

"I suggest that would be a good idea," Janos agreed. "Perhaps you can select a small guard for her. And for Archer as well. His future seems to be changing."

"If he runs for President that'll be true enough," Trip laughed shortly. "President Archer. Now ain't that something?"

"It would be, but I think he might re-visit that idea now," Janos smiled again.

"Why?"

"He seems to be taking his guardianship of T'Pau very seriously," Janos pointed out. "If that continues, then he will be very busy 'raising' the future leader of Vulcan. That does not leave much time for politics."

"Hm," Trip mused. "Hadn't thought about that. Well, maybe just the threat of him thinking about it would be enough to cause some changes around there. As long as there's the possibility of his entering the arena, it will keep the rest honest."

"Now you are thinking long term, Charles," Janos nodded approvingly. "Continue to do so. And now, I suggest that you have things to do, so I will allow you to go and do them."

"Yes sir," Trip nodded. "We'll be in touch." The screen went dark and Janos leaned back in his chair. Overall he was very pleased with how things were going. Not how he would have envisioned when all this began, but in no way disappointing. At least not for him. He sighed at that thought. He did have one rather distasteful duty to perform now. He hit the intercom on his desk.

"Neera, could you please come to my office, dear?" he asked pleasantly. "I have something I need to discuss with you."

STE

"Commander, we need to talk."

Malcolm looked up from where he was servicing his rifle to see Not Actually An Ensign Evans, as he now thought of her, standing over him.

"What do you want," he said evenly. Not rude, not nice, not anything.

"I know you're angry," Evans began. "But you have to understand that-"

"Listen to me," Malcolm cut her off, his voice vibrant with anger. "I can respect anyone following orders. I do so myself. But you do not get to dictate the terms by which I lead my life, I don't care who sent you or why. I am a bloody Lieutenant Commander in UE Starfleet and I will bloody well do my job, where ever that might take me." He stood. "If you're inclined to follow along in order to carry out your orders then I'll see to it that you can, but that is all the leeway you get from me. And you will never again presume to issue orders to me, Ensign. Understand?"

"Commander-" Evans was flushing now.

"Do you bloody well understand me?" Malcolm's voice never raised but crackled across her with a surprising energy for all its softness. She began to see what Lord Janos saw in Reed. She didn't like it much, but she could see a peek of it. Now.

"Yes sir," she settled for saying, fighting a sigh. She'd always been grateful to Janos. She'd be dead without his intervention. But sometimes her job purely sucked.

"Excellent," Malcolm nodded. "You are dismissed." With that terse command he returned his full attention to the rifle in his hands and removed Not Actually An Ensign Evans from his personal universe.

I don't know what July sees in him, she thought darkly as she stomped away. She had intended to thank Reed for saving her life, but he'd never given her the chance. Even someone like her wouldn't survive a disruptor bolt to the head.

"Limey jackass," she murmured under her breath.

STE

"Time is not on our side, ladies and gentlemen," Archer told the assembled group of leaders. "Every moment we spend here is another moment that your fleet faces the very real possibility of destroying itself at V'Las' orders."

"We're explained our tactical plan, and I'm convinced that Major Hayes and Major Reyes have covered not only all primary concerns but contingencies as well." Rey was filling in for the injured Jason Hunter. While Hunter would recover, even he needed time to do so. Cox and Batelli had returned to service, having never been actually injured to begin with. Hayes and Cole both gave them an odd look now and again, but were true to their word and said nothing.

"What we have to decide on is the strategic plan," Jon continued. "It is believed by most that being confronted by the combination of your authority and the Kir'Shara of Surak that at least some members of the High Command will leave V'Las' side. I believe that this is as good a plan of attack as we're likely to have. There does remain one question."

"V'Las will be removed from power, one way or another," he told them. "That is non-negotiable. He has killed Vulcan citizens and UE personnel in an attempt to create a state of war between us or at least to lend a reason to create a state of war between Vulcan and Andoria. Completely unacceptable. However, are you, the High Council, the rightful leaders of the Vulcan people, intending to try V'Las in open court and allow all this to air?" He paused, looking at each person in turn.

"Or do you desire that V'Las meet with an unfortunate end during this operation?" he continued. "Distasteful, I know, but still an option. I offer no opinion either way but simply the options themselves. While we will do all we can to assist you, ultimately it is you that has to decide what happens."

"It is not the Vulcan way to execute someone, particularly without a trial," S'Kar said evenly.

"Yet we send V'Shar agents to do just that without regard to whether it is the Vulcan way or not," Soval pointed out. "Further, V'Las has had no regard for the Vulcan way in issuing orders that led to the death of both our own people and many humans without benefit of a crime, let alone a trial."

"Our dealing so with off worlders does not mean that we should deal in such a way with our own people," one Minister said.

"That is an illogical statement," T'Pau interposed, moving from Archer's side to stand alone before the collected Ministers. "If Vulcan wishes to influence others in the Alpha Quadrant then we must demonstrate that we are worthy of being heard. Having a separate standard of treatment for our own people is not the way in which to accomplish that. Nor is it the way of Surak." Silence reigned as the Ministers looked a bit chagrined at the idea of being 'put in their place' by a mere 'child'. One of them, a woman by the name of T'Rian, nearly frowned.

"Who are you to lecture us in the ways of Surak?"

"I am T'Pau," the girl replied evenly. "Student of Surak since my earliest days. At the age you would have been playing with your pet sehlat and building models, I was studying the writings of the Father of Logic and learning the ways of Vulcan from those who still practice the arts taught to us by Surak and his disciples. While I do not seek to lecture, that is who I am." She spoke with confidence. With grace. With an implied power that Archer found himself admiring. This was the woman who would one day rule Vulcan.

He was impressed.

"T'Pau speaks true," Savaan spoke easily into the silence. "I helped in her education and have trained her in the meditative arts as well, assisting Syrran in doing so when his duties prevented him from instructing his ward. I daresay she knows more than any of you, perhaps all of you, of the true ways of Surak." He looked at each Minister in turn.

"While we are to be non-aggressive, that in no way means we are to allow others to walk upon us. V'Las and the Winged Ones are counting upon us as a people to be complacent. To be willing to allow them to rule over us, to dominate us, rather than to fight in our own defense. You may be so inclined," Savaan admitted. "We of the Ozh-dukal t'T'Khasi are not."

"So you do embrace violence," T'Rian spoke as if making her point.

"No, Minister, we use violence, when necessary to protect ourselves, to protect those incapable of protecting themselves and to protect the Vulcan way of life." Savaan's voice was calm and even, every inch Vulcan. "We do not promote violence as a way of life, but we do not rule it out as a tool to be used in the betterment of our people or the preservation of our way of life. Such is the teaching of the Ozh-dukal t'T'Khasi."

"A way of service," Kuvak intoned, growing weary of the debate. "Something we have allowed ourselves to forget. Something else that Surak taught that we have allowed to be cast aside. When we should be casting out fear, we have instead cast out all but fear. Fear of being thought deviant, or defective. Fear of the judgment of our peers and kin. Fear of being seen as somehow unworthy of being called Vulcan. Of being known as V'Tosh. The People."

"And in doing so we have brought shame and dishonor to ourselves," Soval added suddenly. "We have dishonored our friends and our allies, even though they have stood with us and shed their blood against the threat of V'Las," he said, looking at Archer. "We have been dishonorable in our dealings with Earth, to the point that when they stood upon the brink of destruction from an outside power we refused to aid them, save for T'Pol, who for her stand was vilified by the V'Las cabal. It is completely illogical to think that certain violence is acceptable even when alternatives are available, then refuse to accept that when no other course of action will suffice that violence cannot be considered as acceptable."

"For my actions I have been branded a traitor by V'Las," he said with a quiet dignity. "I have sacrificed relations with those I hold most dear to me," he looked at T'Pol, "in order to prevent as much of this foolishness as was possible. I have not surrendered my own personal honor, have not cast away the affection and endearment of my most cherished ones, have not suffered the indignity of being treated as a traitor to Vulcan, only to see you argue that we must not resort to violence in this instance because it is not the way of Surak."

"It was not the way of Surak to kill over one hundred humans who were guests upon our world in order to create a false crisis," he continued to hammer his points home. "It was not the way of Surak to violate our treaty with Andoria and desecrate one of our most treasured of monasteries with a military post. It was not the way of Surak to send our fleet against that same people, a people we have a treaty with I remind you, in an unprovoked attack that would have created a state of war between our worlds. Is war, sought after and unprovoked, the way of Surak?"

"So perhaps, Minister, the proper question should be who are you to lecture T'Pau, touched of the essence of Surak himself, on the ways of the Father of Logic." Soval ended his speech with the same quiet dignity he had begun, every inch the Vulcan he had always been.

Several of the Ministers had the grace to allow their embarrassment at the dressing down to be visible on their faces, and T'Rian actually blushed in shame at her rebuke. Soval glanced at T'Pol and she nodded to him in acceptance of what he had said. When he looked at Archer he noted that the human was actually looking at him with something approaching respect. Perhaps he had been too long in admitting the truth. Perhaps he should have been more trusting, and been so sooner.

"Enough," Kuvak spoke again. "What is your decision."

"V'Las must be removed," S'Kar spoke at once. "If a trial of his actions were made public, the damage to Vulcan would be great. It would not be fatal, perhaps, but it could be debilitating. I submit that, logically, we cannot risk such a thing when faced with the threat of the Rhihannsu." He looked at the others.

"V'Las suffers from ill health, perhaps," he spoke evenly. "He is not a young Vulcan and he has been under immense strain. Perhaps his recent actions have been influenced by his mental state. Perhaps," he almost allowed himself to smile, "protective custody and treatment for his mental illness should be considered."

"Agreed," Subat nodded at once. "He must be removed from office. If he can be taken into this 'protective custody' without risk to others, then so be it. If not, then what happens will happen." He added his glare to that of S'Kar and Kuvak. One by one the others nodded their agreement. To her credit, T'Rian's nod was not the final one of the group.

"Then we are agreed," Kuvak intoned evenly and turned to Archer.

"You may commence your operation, Commodore."

STE

Four alien shuttles over Shi'Kar attracted some attention, but by now word of the tense stand-off among the fleet had reached the ground and most Vulcans were more concerned with that than with four small ships that might simply be new developments of their own R&D works.

They weren't.

Twelve MACOs, twenty-two Ozh-dukal t'T'Khasi now outfitted in Vulcan commando gear, and sixteen members of Trip's 'special' security force occupied those shuttles, along with the Ministers of the High Council, Jonathon Archer, T'Pau, T'Pol, T'Les and Soval. They were spread around the various shuttles so that the loss of one would not decapitate the effort. The exception was that of Archer and T'Pau, who refused to be separated from her human guardian. T'Pol had noticed their closeness and had showed a slight look of interest, which Trip had noted. As their shuttle lifted, he asked her about it.

"Commodore Archer was appointed as en'arh'at of T'Pau by Syrran, practically with his dying breath," T'Pol noted, and Trip nodded.

"That's how I got it."

"She does not treat him as an en'arh'at," T'Pol observed. "I suspect that there is a deeper bond between them. Unknown to the Commodore and misunderstood by T'Pau."

"I don't get it," Trip admitted.

"It is my belief that the very beginnings of a koon'ul tel, a betrothal bond, have begun between the two of them," T'Pol admitted quietly. "I do not believe Commodore Archer would be aware of it and I suspect that T'Pau would not recognize it, given her upbringing. She likely would not have been taught of such and thus would not realize that her psyche has implanted upon the Commodore, nor his upon her. Such a bond is normally entered into at an early age when marriages are arranged."

"Are you telling me that-" Trip began, eyes wide.

"I tell you nothing except my observations," T'Pol interrupted smoothly. "I cannot even say it is a suspicion because even that is allowing too much. However, they likely had a great deal of contact in the Forge. Physical contact, especially under duress, could easily result in a bond between two people being established without their intent, or even their awareness."

"I can't see Jon being able to bond with a Vulcan, aduna," Trip said gently. "He really hates pretty much all things Vulcan except for you and Kov."

"Yet he allowed her to hold his hand in public, in full view of others," T'Pol pointed out. "And I saw him embracing her at least once, offering her comfort at a time when she was afraid. It would help if I knew what had occurred between them in the Forge."

Trip looked down the shuttle to see Batelli looking at him. He motioned for her to join them and she did so.

"My lord."

"Bats, you were with Jon, Commodore Archer, and T'Pau pretty much the entire time in the Forge, right?"

"Except when I was killing the sehlats, yes sir," she nodded.

"You killed multiple sehlats?" T'Pol asked suddenly and Batelli nodded absently. What was so special about that? They were just big cats, after all. Surely some Vulcan, somewhere, had killed a sehlat at some point in their history.

"Discussion for another time, k'diwa," Trip reminded her. "T'Pol needs some information about the Commodore and T'Pau's interaction while you were in the Forge, Bats," he pointed to an empty seat.

"Well, it started out pretty bad," Batelli admitted, taking a seat. "See, that Syrran guy got hit by what T'Les called a sandfire. . . ."

T'Pol listened to the account with a growing certainty that Commodore Archer and T'Pau were in store for a surprise. One that might possibly bode well for Vulcan and Earth relations. Some day. In the future.

Eventually.

STE

V'Las listened as his orders to the fleet were transmitted again. Thus far none of the Captains that had been turned to Kuvak's efforts were budging in their refusal to follow further orders from the High Command. That in itself was as ironic as it was damning. The High Command's actual function was to supervise Fleet operations. Defense and exploration. It was because of V'Las that the High Command had gradually assumed control of so much of Vulcan life, beginning with the security services.

V'Las felt his frustration mounting and had to remind himself to remain as calm as possible. He was so tired of pretending to be a damn Vulcan. Their meditation and refusal to acknowledge their emotions, their passions. How could any being live without the passions that made life worth living? For a people who prided themselves on logic, it was completely illogical to him. He almost shook his head at the irony before catching himself.

"Multiple ships dropping from warp, sir," reported one of the Vulcans cloistered in the command center with him. "It appears to be the remainder of the ships from the expedition against Andoria. Some of them at least as there are many missing."

"The work of the traitors Soval and Kuvak no doubt," V'Las managed to intone calmly when what he really wanted to do was to rend and tear and scream in rage. "Have they tried to contact us?"

"No, Minister," was the reply. "They are communicating with Captain Sopek of the Ni'Var."

"More traitors," V'Las bit back a snarl. No one made a reply to that. Unlike V'Las, the others in the room were Vulcan and were having some serious misgivings about all of this. The last two or three day's events were so highly unusual in an orderly society like Vulcan that many simply had no concept of how to deal with such happenings.

Fortunately that decision was about to be made for them.

STE

"We're on final, sir," Travis said to Commodore Archer. "Ninety seconds to first in."

"Right," Jon nodded. There was room on the roof for only one shuttle at the time to land. Trip had argued successfully that his men should go in first. He had argued successfully that he should lead them.

He had argued unsuccessfully that his aduna should ride a later shuttle. He was becoming used to that.

Jon watched as the first shuttle zoomed in at an alarming rate of speed only to lift the nose at the last second and hover scant inches off the roof.

"Here we go," he said to no one in particular. He felt a small hand take his and looked down to see T'Pau looking through the screen as well.

"It will be fine," he promised.

"And what happens after all is fine?" she asked, looking at him with impossibly brown eyes. "What then, Jonathon Archer?"

"Well, hopefully you'll stop calling me by my full name every time you talk to me," he grinned, and was rewarded with a green tinge to her ears and cheeks.

"Let's worry about that once this is over," he added. "Whatever happens you'll be okay, T'Pau. I promise."

She nodded but made no other reply. He wondered again what made him so protective of her.

She wondered what made her trust him.

STE

"Hit 'em!" Trip shouted as his people poured off the shuttle. He had managed to wring from T'Pol one lone concession, that she would be the last one out of the shuttle. He had considered telling the pilot to pull away before she could disembark, which had resulted in the comment;

"If you are deceiving me, I will be. . .annoyed."

Dammit.

There were two Vulcans, probably Vulcans, stationed on the roof for security and both went down in seconds. Trip had no way of knowing if they had sounded an alarm and really didn't care. He and his men would be the first in and he was confident they could deal.

They established a perimeter as the next shuttle repeated the maneuver, and then the next until finally everyone was in position. In the interim an explosive charge had been placed on the door leading down to the command center and two crew served weapons positioned on the roof to prevent reinforcements from coming in behind them.

Trip looked at Jon who nodded. He looked next to Savaan who did the same. Hayes was with Reyes.

"Get some!" Trip called.

"By the numbers!" Hayes said as Reyes hit the detonator and the door disintegrated.

Three of Trip's people, heavily armored against energy weapons, made entry first, literally leaping down the stairs to establish as 'stairhead' of sorts, allowing the others to fall in behind them. They were met with Vulcan resistance in the hallways but projectile weaponry was far more deadly than even disruptor fire, which they were armored against anyway.

Reyes and Hayes calmly stepped over the bodies in the hallway as if it were everyday business and led the way, guided by Soval to the command center's control and communications hub.

Reyes looked at the door and began laying another charge around it but Soval stopped him.

"Let us see how careless, or arrogant, V'Las is." He entered the code given him by Minister Kuvak and the doorway opened.

"Go!" Reyes ordered urgently and the three heavily armed troopers stormed the room followed by the remainder of Trip's forces save those assigned to protect T'Pol, Jon, and T'Pau. The Ozh-dukal t'T'Khasi commandos left five of their number in the hallway supported by the MACOs of Enterprise to safeguard their backs and protect those not entering the hub.

Three Vulcans inside drew weapons at the sight of intruders and were cut down at once. The rest froze, stunned by the ferocity of the attack. Except for one. A tall Vulcan with gray hair and a cape of all things walked slowly to a small console where he lifted a plastic box cover and rested his hand on the plunger underneath.

"Hold it!" Reyes shouted in Vulcan. Soval ordered everyone in the room to stand still and raise their hands in Vulcan.

"Stop where you are,' V'Las said calmly, almost as if he were a real Vulcan. "If you do not, then I will destroy every ship in the Vulcan fleet orbiting over us right now."