The Empire's Destiny
By Asso
Chapter Thirty-six
Tucker is…
4. Reckless Life
There are men whose lives are marked.
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["So, do we want to delve a little more deeply into the speech about the unforeseen opportunities that life sometimes offers unexpectedly?"]
The scene of his second meeting with Tucker was well vivid in Valdore's memory.
The grim and controlled Admiral of the powerful Romulan Empire folded his hands behind him, ill at ease. Even now the astonishment of that second meeting grabbed him.
And how could it not be so? How could that scene - his words and those of Tucker, especially those of Tucker - not show up in his mind as if everything was happening now? How could he not feel even now the amazement he had felt then, at that time, in the artificial evening of the so-called recreation room, namely the gloomy and bleak and bare wide lounge where the workers were seeking some relief after the exhausting exertion of their work shift among cheap alcohol and inane chatter, at hearing the direct and explicit reply that Tucker had delivered to his oblique question?
["Do you mean such as the opportunity that I seem to understand that you would have intention to offer me?"]
But more, much more, the amazement he had felt for what Tucker had said right afterwards, without leaving him time to find some kind of response.
The nerve-wracking wry snicker of the Terran had made itself heard for the second time since Valdore had known him. Sort of a sardonic introduction to what Tucker was about to state. And prelude to the constant, difficult, hard struggle in which from then on Valdore would have found himself obliged to engage to try to extricate himself inside the labyrinth of mental and expressive subtleties of Tucker.
["If I may, I would like to reverse the order of the factors. You know…"] The sarcastic enervating sneer, once again. ["…the result does not change"]
And again. The scathing sarcastic chuckle.
["Let's speak before of the one who offers such an opportunity..."]
A pause. Valdore could feel yet the weight of that pause. And, one more time, the jeering snicker - slight, feeble and yet loud, in some way; to precede and emphasize strongly the conclusive words of the Terran's phrase, while his damaged eye, perfectly visible now that there was not even the helmet to screen his disfigured visage, had seemed to twinkle mockingly.
["...to Cain."]
Then, finally, the question. The question that had left Valdore dumbstruck.
["I'm curious. I know, it is one of my worst faults, but so much so. Tell me, esteemed supervisor-chief. Was there need of lots of surgical corrections or is your breed the spitting image of our dear and appraised friends, the Vulcans?"]
Valdore had failed to hide his wince. He remembered his reeling at Tucker's question. And he remembered perfectly how his eyes had grown open wide, as he had stood nearly gasping for air, literally, at the last words of the Human, at his startling final question.
["How can I call…]
No wry chuckle, this time. This time only a cold glitter in the injured eye as well as in the healthy one, while the lips of the Terran - only the lips – had rippled into a sly, mischievous, just hinted smile.
["…the unknown race which has the good fortune to number among its members a scholar of your weight, my revered…]
A further and more accentuated crafty gleam in the Human's gaze.
["…bogus Vulcan?"]
"You... you had understood, Adun?"
Tucker could not help but smile with genuine smugness.
How can you not feel smug at seeing the look of admiration with which the woman you love is watching you?
He cleared his throat.
"Oh, well, little doll, if you think about it, after all it was not much hard to understand."
["You've got it!"]
These words. Valdore remembered them well. These words had been all he had been able to say, after the sarcastic question of Tucker.
These words.
Hardly expressed in a low voice, just there, in that place where it was necessary that no other ears besides his and those of the Human could hear what the two of them were saying to each other.
Pronounced with stunned surprise.
Accompanied by a gaze that Valdore was well aware he hadn't been able to prevent it from appearing stunned and surprised.
And then, again, that unnerving wry chuckle from the Human. Valdore had realized at that moment that from now on he would have to get used to it.
Of course. Because if, before, he could have had some doubts yet, now this was no longer possible.
Tucker was really the man he needed.
A man whose mind could go where the mind of others would have not even imagined that one might have to go.
And, for the second time, Valdore had felt something... an apprehension that was dangerously close to being real fear.
But he had not had time to realize that what he felt was fear.
Tucker had not allowed him.
"See, my little vulcan doll, there was at that time no sign, no hint of any possible uprising in the Empire. And, for sure, it was unthinkable that a... well, excuse me if I say it, my sweetness... it was unthinkable that a loyal servant of the Empire, just as the Vulcans were and are, with the exception of Syrran's followers - but at that moment the Syrrannites were only a small group of isolated thinkers devoid of credibility - could think to make himself the bearer toward me of any potential upheaval plan of the Human Empire. Because it was clear that this was the intention of that pseudo Vulcan. He wanted… he wanted to give Cain an opportunity to go far beyond the personal vendetta against his breed fellows who had outraged and murdered his sister and wounded his face and soul. That pseudo Vulcan wanted to offer him the chance to commit a far greater fratricide. The chance… to assassinate the Empire. Therefore, that man, who looked like a Vulcan, could not be a Vulcan. Nor even less, in reason of what I said, he could be a member of one of the breeds subject to the Human Empire. The time had not yet come for rebellions whatsoever. It had not yet broken out... Harrad-Sar."
Tucker was silent for a moment, while T'Pol was staring at him as if he was the source of wonders. An oracle. Unearthly. More than the fabled Delphic oracle of human myths.
Tucker went on in a deep voice.
"A Klingon? Let's not joke. Klingons were and still are there, where they are, to lick their wounds. And, certainly, Klingons are not able to be so subtly shrewd as the pseudo Vulcan showed to be. The new species? The Xindi? The approach of that man did not fit for anything with the little - with the nothing - that we knew of the Xindi, who, moreover, were light years away from us, really and figuratively, and seemed rather busy in thinking about how to slice us up in a way slightly more 'carnal' than the one that appeared to be in the mind of that man. No, that man was neither a Vulcan nor a Klingon, nor a Xindi, nor a member of any other species that could nourish dreams of hegemony over the quadrant or any other thought of any kind towards the Empire. It was a new appearance in the scene, an appearance that, apparently, wanted to take action against the Empire through me. And, vaguely, I was beginning to have an idea about what sort of breed he could be a member. But it was only a vague thought. It was a breed, the one on which my mind had taken to nebulously linger, which seemed to be distant a stellar infinity."
T'Pol's gaze was the gaze of a woman who feels her heart burst with pride at the thought that it belongs to a man like that.
Treacherous? Cruel? Traitor? Despicable? Alright! Agree! So be it, if you want! If you stop only at what of him shows up outside. But... for Surak!... in any case… what an amazingly brainy man!
And he was her man!
But how had she done not to understand the might of soul and mind of that man? Of her Champion?
But fortunately her Katra had. Had understood.
That one was the incomparable man who belonged to her!
T'Pol's arms snapped. They grabbed Tucker in an embrace that nearly smashed him.
"Tucker!"
Tucker was startled at being called so by her.
"Tucker!"
More loudly. More intensely. More vehemently.
"You may even be what you Humans call the devil."
T'Pol found herself biting Tucker's neck until to make it bleed, in the intensity of her irrepressible emotion.
He was hers! That man was her man!
And she branded him!
Forever!
The mark of her possession over him would remain impressed in his flesh forever!
Her voice rose again, hoarse, as her teeth left reluctantly Tucker's flesh, to complete what she had just begun to say.
"Yes! You may also be the devil! And I will burn in your hell forever together with you!"
["A Klingon? This you're? But let's avoid jesting. Let's leave the Klingons where they are, trying vainly to heal their wounds. A Xindi? And who are the Xindi? Certainly it is inconceivable that one of them can show up here to propose to me what seems pretty obvious that you want to propose to me, namely, to speak of the other factor of our mathematical expression, the kind of opportunity you offer me. The member of a rebel race? But there are no rebels breeds, currently, to the best of my knowledge nor, even less, breeds that can aspire to hegemony in the quadrant or that can nourish dreams of revenge or, in any way, of more or less covered fight against the Human Empire. So, my friend, you're new, I believe, in the Human Empire's scene."]
A break. Short and intense. Accompanied by a twinkle of the eye.
["Who are you, my esteemed bogus vulcan supervisor?"]
And at that point Valdore had burst out. It had been stronger than him.
He remembered with perfect clarity.
He had been unable to restrain himself.
He had proudly overthrown on Tucker his identity.
["I am a Romulan."]
"A Romulan."
Succeeding, somehow, in containing and controlling the jolt that shook his heart in front of the impetus of love and pride of T'Pol and well aware of what it meant the brand of her teeth that from that point on would make show of itself on his flesh, Tucker addressed her by pronouncing that name in a low and tense voice, sweating like if he was carrying out the Sisyphean task not to yield to the tempting invitation of her hot breath on his skin.
T'Pol said nothing. She lifted her mouth from his flesh, the sour and gorgeous taste of his blood on her lips, and with a huge effort she managed to master the thrill she felt inside.
Silent and attentive, she watched all eyes him, her ears pricked up and careful not to lose a single one of his words.
"Do you understand, little doll? Very vaguely I had begun to suspect. But one thing is suspecting, another thing is knowing. I had to deal with a Romulan. And with a not at all insignificant Romulan."
["I'm Valdore, Admiral of the Romulan Empire."]
"Do you understand, my pretty vulcan doll? Do you understand? An Admiral of the Romulan Empire. An Admiral of the mysterious, unknown, scary Romulan Empire, under the guise of a Vulcan supervisor, was addressing me for... for what, T'Pol? Well, it was clear, or, at least, so it seemed to me. In one moment in my head all the pieces reassembled themselves to return the whole and sharp image. And what Valdore said right after, while I tried to master my amazement, only served to substantiate what, actually, I had already figured out."
Valdore began to measure the room with slow steps, his hands crossed behind his back, his chin down on his chest.
That proud statement had sprung out of him without him worrying about mitigating its impact.
But then, come to think, what importance could ever this have had? Sooner or later he would have had to reveal his identity to Tucker, and the fact that he had done it... well, yes ... impetuously, under the lash of the sarcasm of the Human and in order to counterstrike somehow his irritating effrontery, his annoying ability to enter with uncanny skill in the core of things... well, all in all, this was not relevant.
Irksome, yes. Already from that second meeting, Tucker had revealed his annoying ability to break the mold, to make breach in his armour of cold self-control. And indubitably it was also worrisome in some way.
However, in that way, the Human had also strengthened Valdore's conviction of being in front of the man who suited him.
And then...
Well! And then, it had not been at all unpleasant to enjoy, finally, the flash of astonishment, short but quite evident, which had appeared in the Human's eyes. In both of them.
Eh no. It had not been at all unpleasant.
"I think I have made one of the biggest efforts of my life to dominate my astonishment, T'Pol. All right, inside me I had understood, or I thought I had understood, although certainly not in its entirety but only on the surface, what hid behind the apparition of that man. But the fact remained that the one who was in front of me was a Romulan. He who at that moment had resumed talking, smiling - yes, smiling, T'Pol, imperceptibly - well pleased at my inevitable amazement, had stated he was an Admiral of the Empire of Romulus. And from Romulus came the opportunity. The opportunity that was being offered to me. To Cain."
["Romulus offers Cain the opportunity Cain was waiting for."]
So, he had said. In unambiguous terms. Proudly. Not hiding the slight smirk that had ruffled his lips.
But the Human had immediately regained the control.
Of himself.
And of the situation.
It was a good thing, of course, did nothing but reinforce his idea that Tucker was the man he needed.
But this didn't change the fact that for the third time in that their second meeting Valdore had felt something very similar to fright.
"I realized immediately it was me who had to lead the game, T'Pol. If what I thought that Romulus wanted from me corresponded to the truth, I had to prove right away to be able to dominate any situation. Maybe it could be dangerous, but what could Romulus do of a man who was not able to do so? If a Romulan, an Admiral of the Romulan Empire, was there to offer me an opportunity, this - let us not forget the tenor of my first meeting with him - was certainly connected with the… assassination of my Empire, the Human Empire, on which evidently Romulus had decided to extend its influence and that that Romulan had realized that I hated to the point of being willing to betray it. And he believed I had the skills to do what he was going to propose. That woman - the woman who first had addressed to me in that hell and who had allowed me to survive with her advice - was somehow the source of his conviction and... I thought I knew how."
Tucker stopped.
His eyes were somber.
"I wanted, I had to get out of there, T'Pol. And I wanted, I had to avenge the evil that had been done to my sister and me. I wanted to murder my Empire! My face was now marked forever. And also my heart. Indeed, perhaps, I didn't even have a heart, by now. What was left of it after the rape and the murder of my sister had gone to ashes in the flames of that hell."
T'Pol grabbed Tucker's wrist.
"No, Adun. It had not gone to ashes. It had been frozen, wrapped in the ice of those lands of fire and frost. But this ice cuirass will melt. I! I shall melt it forever."
Tucker nodded. His gaze became clearer. A smile, sweet, sad, embellished his lips.
"You already have, my love. But then - at that time, at that moment - you were not there. There was only the ice. And my hatred. My rancour."
"No! It is not true!"
"What? But... T'Pol!"
"Adun. I repeat for the second time. That ice... the ice in which you've wrapped your heart... I know it well... - I know it well! - ...was the ice with which sometimes a man is forced to envelop his heart to do what is necessary to do!"
"Like betraying my people, T'Pol? Like… committing the fratricide of Cain?"
The grip of T'Pol on Tucker's wrist became more accentuated.
"Like destroying the spheres, my Lord." T'Pol spelt out strongly her words. "My Champion."
Tucker's gaze grew almost broody.
"Yeah. Like destroying the spheres."
Then he shook himself.
Gently he freed his wrist from T'Pol's grasp.
He ran a hand over his face. Then he spoke again, without looking at her, as if he was reliving his past life.
"That was the means, T'Pol. The means that allowed me to disappear as Cain and reappear as Tucker"
He turned toward her.
"As I told you, I had understood that it was going to be offered me, in the most unexpected of ways and from the most unexpected of bidders, the chance to get away from there and complete my revenge. I also thought to understand, even if not in the details, of course, what the Empire of Romulus could possibly want from me, because it could fit well with the little that was known or that it was thought to know of the Romulans. Strong, for sure. And powerful. But not inclined to show their power in the open field, apparently, because otherwise most likely they would already have done so. And, perhaps, determined now to expand over the Terran Empire or, at least, to acquire its control, because worried of the rapid territorial growth of the Humans, opponents, maybe, for them most fearsome than the Klingons."
Tucker took a breath for a moment.
T'Pol did not avert her eyes from him.
"I did not understand why they had decided to do it right now, even though it was known that sooner or later the two empires would… come to blows. The only thing I could think was that this could have something to do in some way with the historical moment that we Humans were living, because of the Xindi threat. The state of relative lack of direct control that reigned inevitably there, where I was, could have been for the Romulans the opportunity they were waiting for in order to find and to contact the man who was fitting to their purposes, still provided that my reasoning was correct. And, on the other hand, if Earth had succeeded in its intent, namely to destroy the Xindi, the Human Empire would become for the Romulans an even more tangible and concrete threat, whereas, if it had happened the other way, i.e. if the Xindi had destroyed Earth, very likely the Romulans would have then had to deal with a possibly even more formidable space power."
Tucker paused again. He wanted T'Pol to understand very well everything had passed tumultuously in his mind, that distant day.
And T'Pol drank his every word.
"Maybe what they wanted was that Humans could be able to destroy the Xindi, thus eliminating other possible dangerous rivals, but at the same time, it was to take the opportunity offered by the peculiar moment that Earth was experiencing in order to lay the foundations of their expansion into the Terran Empire warp, because this - I really did not think to be wrong - this was their plan. And the key they were looking for so that they could do it... the key... was me. You need to be able to rely on someone of the place if you want to creep into that place. But, if things were as I thought, I had to prove just since that time that the Romulan was betting on the right man for him, because, in doing so, I would have actually been able to seize the opportunity that he was telling he would give me. I could have gone away from there, I could have done what I wanted to do. Therefore, I had to keep the situation well in hand. I needed to demonstrate to be the man he thought I was."
["I grab this opportunity, Romulan. I will build the occult power network that serves to Romulus to take impalpable possession of Earth for then conquering it almost without striking a blow."]
Valdore still felt muddle up at the memory of those assertive words of Tucker.
The Human had understood everything!
"You said this, Adun? Really did you say this?"
Tucker nodded, almost uneasily.
"Yes, T'Pol. I spoke so. Was it true, what I said? Did correspond to truth? This was the opportunity - sordid, I know - that Romulus offered me? I thought it was, but if it hadn't been so, I would have ended my life adventure… rather badly. And yet I had to risk it. I had to prove to the Romulan that I was able to figure things out even before they could be said openly to me. If what I thought the Romulans wanted from me had been true, I, by hurling impudently this truth on his face, would have possibly dissolved any residual doubt that still could lodge in the head of the romulan admiral. Otherwise... oh well... otherwise T'Pol... worse for me. If that was a trap, I would have ended up with being mangled in it. And not precisely pleasantly. And Cain or Tucker or anyone else I may be... it would have been as if I had never have been."
Tucker was silent.
Something... kind of... as an infinite weariness in his eyes ... on his face.
In his voice.
"And from that moment onwards, for me, T'Pol, it has been always so."
Then he was silent again, and stood quietly looking at her.
As if awaiting her.
T'Pol remained watching her Adun in silence, with a strange look, mirror of her soul, where the wonder was mixed up with the pensiveness.
But for real this had been the life of her Ashayam? A life lived always and constantly on the cutting edge? A... reckless life?
But how had he done to keep some sort of balance? A bit of lucidity? How had he managed to survive? To survive until the moment when her Katra had been able to meet his soul? Until the moment when her Katra had been... enraptured... by his soul?
Maybe it was true. Perhaps the God that some scant and sparse groups of Humans affirmed there was, though concealed in the evil of the Universe, really existed.
And that God had preserved her Adun until he had been able to come to win her heart. Until she had been able to stay at his side. To live his own reckless life.
Together with him.
She shook herself with effort.
Her hand rose slowly to caress almost with awe the disfigurement on his visage.
"Adun…"
Words which no Vulcan, male or female, had ever told welled up pure and crystalline from the depths of her Katra.
Words which perhaps had existed before, at a remote and faraway time.
Which seemed couldn't exist anymore.
Words... immense.
Her voice was a chant.
"I love you."
End of Chapter Thirty-six
TBC
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There are men whose lives are marked.
There are words that change their fate.