T'Pol was sore and still aching when Skon dropped by the hospital. Her muscles felt weary, tired. More than that, her mind was exhausted. Emotions were always difficult for T'Pol, but the warring of them now was unbearable. Only the bond she shared with Jonathan gave her comfort. She knew her mate struggled, too.
She had always known her bondmate as a man of strength. Few things hurt him deeply, felling him. Their child's death, her fragility now, and the knowledge they would never have offspring tore at him.
Skon came to share information, alerting her and Jonathan that Starfleet was hoping to bring Admiral Archer home for trial. When Jonathan asked with some dismay who was assigned to collect him, Skon informed him it was a friend - Captain Malcolm Reed. This information caused Jonathan's shoulders to slump. T'Pau had instituted security procedures that would act as a shield, preventing Starfleet from seeing visitors … including those with human biosigns.
Although Jonathan seemed willing - as he called it - to face the music, T'Pol wasn't ready. Even with Skon there, they discussed it, arguing as they might have when she reported to him on Enterprise. It frustrated her that, even now, he seemed ready to play the hero. She urged him to consider, if not for his sake, for hers.
"I knew the consequences," Jonathan told her.
Skon indicated many worlds had already called on Prime Minister Pelleiter, the Earth leader, to pardon Jonathan. That surprised Jonathan, but not T'Pol. Skon also explained that many had called on Starfleet to drop the charges. That hadn't surprised T'Pol either. Jonathan's actions on Andoria propelled cooperation the likes of which the allies hadn't seen since the beginning of the Romulan War began. The plan included ambassadors from at least twenty different planets to head to Coridan. Skon mentioned that even the Klingons were considering it.
Jonathan suggested the ambassadors notify Starfleet to receive an escort. Skon indicated avoiding Starfleet was a side-benefit of going to Coridan. It was then, Skon asked if both she and Jonathan could go.
T'Pol was amenable to the idea, but she could tell her bondmate was less interested. By going to Coridan, Jonathan could continue to evade Starfleet. And for some reason, he seemed resolute on allowing them to take him.
In the meantime, Skon had suggested that she and Jonathan stay with him at T'Rama's, instead of visiting her mother's house. He indicated that like the hospitals, T'Rama's home could use shielding to prevent Captain Reed from learning their whereabouts. Again, her bondmate bristled at the idea, and again she urged him to evade capture for her.
"We still need to scatter the ashes of our child," she finally said. She knew it was a plea, a logical one, that he couldn't refuse. "And I am still recovering."
Jonathan gave a slow nod. To her, the matter was closed, at least for now.
T'Pol was discharged from the hospital, given the ashes of their unborn child in a box. Then the three stopped by T'Rama's abode. Both T'Pol and her bondmate needed to shower and change clothes.
When they reached T'Rama's house, T'Pol noted how unusual it was. Instead of a spartan abode decorated in reds, browns, and yellows, it was filled with greens and blues. Even without meeting the mathematician Skon had married, T'Pol knew it would be a successful match.
When the woman appeared, she seemed not just accommodating, but friendly - even warm for a Vulcan. These traits T'Pol always admired, such as with her hero V'Lar. What also struck T'Pol was that T'Rama was so kind to Jonathan. The woman even shook his hand, a gesture that earned a smile from her bondmate. As T'Pol slipped into the bathroom, she knew T'Rama made small talk with Jonathan. And through her bond, T'Pol knew Jonathan was happy discussing trivialities. It distracted him from the sad task they would need to complete soon - scattering their child's ashes.
After T'Pol was done preparing, she slipped on clothes T'Rama provided. Jonathan was still talking with T'Rama, drinking water, and leaning against a counter used to prepare food. Skon approached T'Pol.
"You married well," T'Pol said. She knew Skon would understand the human sentiment, and he did.
"Thank you."
"Jonathan likes her," she said. She nodded toward Jonathan as he laughed at something T'Rama said. Instead of seeming confused, the woman seemed pleased.
"He obviously has excellent taste," Skon replied. "I have added a shield around our shuttle, so you may get to the Forge without worrying about Captain Reed."
A sigh nearly left her lips. It bothered both her and Jonathan that Starfleet would choose their friend as the one to apprehend him. It would've been much easier to select someone they didn't know or like.
"Thank you," she said.
"T'Rama and I are here should you need anything else." He then gave a saying in Vulcan to her which meant she was considered extended family. It was an honor and reserved for only the closest of friends.
"I would like your help with one thing," she told him. He could tell she was growing weary and he guided her to a chair. It felt good to sit - her body was aching, still recovering.
"Of course."
"Kali-farr."
They discussed that T'Pau was trying to re-introduce the ancient rite of holding bonding ceremonies on ancestral grounds, but even she was willing to see the logic in choosing a more practical site. In the Kir'Shara, they'd learned that wedding ceremonies took place there.
Skon explained his own wedding was in the courtyard of T'Rama's house, not honoring the ancient texts. He even suggested, as shielding was available, they could hold at T'Rama's home. Touched, T'Pol thanked him and indicated she'd discuss it with her bondmate. It was essential to T'Pol they incorporate human traditions in the ceremony. Bowing, Skon indicated he'd await further instructions from her.
Jonathan excused himself to get ready and this gave the three Vulcans a chance to talk.
"I have heard much about you, T'Pol," T'Rama said.
"And I know of your work," T'Pol said. "It is groundbreaking."
"It has yet to be proven," T'Rama said.
T'Pol knew just how groundbreaking it was. If the Science Directorate disagreed, but continued to investigate, it was worth knowing. She then pointed to the lighthouse and other oddities about the house.
"Your home is unique. Pleasantly so," T'Pol said.
T'Rama said, "I am pleased you find it agreeable. You are an honored guest - you and Admiral Archer."
"He likes you," T'Pol said.
"The feeling is mutual. He is an interesting man."
That he is, T'Pol thought.
T'Rama continued, "He helped deliver the Kir'Shara to Vulcan and saved Surak's katra so that it could enter the Great Hall. When it comes to off-worlders, he may be the greatest our people have ever encountered."
T'Pol raised an eyebrow. Although T'Pau was grateful, T'Pol doubted the lead minister would be so effusive or provide so much credit to Jonathan.
"I don't believe that is what is in the Vulcan database," T'Pol said.
Skon replied, "No, but it should be. It is the truth. And that truth is why our government agreed to hide Admiral Archer. T'Pau sanctioned the security protocols herself."
Jonathan returned freshly showered wearing different clothes from Skon. He saw her in the chair and asked how she was doing, worried. He knew she sore, aching from the procedure. She reassured him they could travel to the Forge.
"And mentally?" Skon asked.
"It will take time," T'Pol said. Jonathan gave her a sad smile, taking her hand. In return, she sent love to him through their connection.
"We should get going," Jonathan said. "We don't want to be there when it's night."
Skon and T'Rama reassured the two they'd be there when they got back. And T'Pol, aided by Jonathan, went to Skon's shuttle. Jonathan climbed behind the wheel and typed in the coordinates. Then, they set off for the Forge. As they flew over, T'Pol watched Jonathan point to a few things as they both recalled being there before.
"That's where we were almost eaten by a sehlat," Jonathan said.
When they finally reached the Syrranite compound, both felt melancholy. Jonathan helped her out of the shuttle, and she leaned against him for physical and mental support. It was odd T'Pol knew exactly which rock her mother perished by, but she did. Quickly, she headed to it and saw a plaque there. That was unusual on Vulcan. Skimming the plaque, she realized it held the names of those who died as well as those who helped Vulcan renew its commitment to Surak and logic. Her name, her mother's name, and even Jonathan's was there to commemorate the experience.
"This is your name in Vulcan," T'Pol said, pointing to the bottom of the plaque.
He felt the swirls on the plaque, bemused. "I'm last," he finally said, chuckling.
"You aren't Vulcan," T'Pol told him.
"Despite hosting Surak's katra," Jonathan kidded.
"Hosting Surak is different than being Surak," she reminded him.
A grin spread over his lips until he withdrew the ashes in the container. He breathed deeply and T'Pol did with him.
I grieve with you, he thought to her.
We both grieve.
Holding T'Pol's hand, he was about to open the container with her when they heard someone behind them.
"Admiral Archer, you're under arrest."
T'Pol didn't need to look; she knew who it was.
Captain Malcolm Reed.
[-]
The hanger in San Francisco was filled with smaller vessels. There were flitter pods, shuttles, and transports. Shran thought most were antiques, except for the one he'd chosen.
Enterprise.
Shran walked around the medical transport vessel and then went inside. It was slightly larger than an Andorian shuttle, but just the perfect size for taking a small crew. It had weapons, mostly to scare people off. But it could move quickly. For such a small vessel, it could travel faster than warp 5. Andorian design, Shran understood all the panels and readings.
There were two sets of quarters, each with multiple beds jammed in. Each bed was set to provide medical assistance - bio-analysis, blood transfusions, and more. Shran ripped out the medical gear, deeming it unnecessary, to reduce weight.
It had been a while since he'd been asked to captain a ship. Petting the hull like he might an Andorian darkog, he whispered to it, cooing.
"You and I are going to become friends, old girl."
He heard a grunt behind him and realized Gral was there. Gral asked, "Should I leave you two alone?"
Shran laughed as his antennae wiggled in delight. "Commanding a vessel. Flying again. It's like coming back to a fresh ice bath after mating." When it seemed Gral didn't understand, Shran clarified. "It's glorious."
The Andorian took another spin around. "You ready?"
Gral pointed to a few bags. "I'm prepared."
The Ithanites weren't far behind. However, instead of taking a few things, they had more baggage than Shran thought they could use in an Earth month. He was about to tell them only to take what was necessary when a huge crate arrived, hauled by a forklift. Shran's antennae straightened.
"What the tarpig is this?!" Shran yelled.
"Booze," Ki'ar said. "We party!"
Shran was about to counter him when Tares appeared. She barely had a duffle bag of things. Shran explained why they couldn't take everything and asked the Ithanites to whittle down the number of garments, gewgaws, and even liquor they were taking. With some reluctance, they began dumping the furs and fezzes. Shran wasn't sure they had more than one.
As they did, Shran picked up a bottle of blue ale from the open crate.
"Andorian," he said with admiration. "I'll hold onto this one for you, Ki'ar."
As the Ithanites continued to grumble, going through their belongings, Shran saw a figure approach. It was Admiral Gardner. The look on his face said he was annoyed and maybe worried. It was unusual for an admiral to leave Starfleet; Shran knew this had to be important.
"Word has it you're headed to Coridan," Gardner said.
Puffing up his chest, Shran answered. "What if I am?"
"In a vessel like this?" Gardner asked. "What if you're caught by the Romulans?"
"We'll be going through space quickly. This transport will evade them. After all, I'm its captain."
"Ambassador, you haven't been an Andorian commander in many years," Gardner sighed. Then he seemed to get to the matter on his mind. "Starfleet would like to provide an escort."
"That's unnecessary," Shran said.
"It is," Gardner argued. "You need protection."
"We'll be fine, human."
Gardner frowned, asking, "You're not … you're not going to Coridan just to settle peace, are you?"
"What vessel is Captain Reed on?"
"You know that's classified," Gardner said.
"Then, I suppose we have a stalemate," Shran responded.
Looking over, it seemed like the Ithanites had managed to get down to only three bags - with a pile of furs and fezzes near them. Of course, the alcohol was left untouched. Shran pointed to the crate.
"Keep going!" Shran shouted to the Ithanites. Annoyed at waiting so long, he decided to open the ale in his hand. He held it aloft for Gardner. "Want some, Pink Skin?"
Gardner said, "It's nine a.m."
"Your point?" Shran asked. Archer would've had a nip, even at this hour.
Gral walked out of the ship, joining them. Gardner repeated the request with Gral there; his friend grunted with the same annoyance he felt in his antennae.
"We'll allow Starfleet to escort us if you forgive Archer's crimes," Gral bargained.
"He'll receive a fair trial," Gardner said.
"We've known the Pink Skin a while. For me, it's been more than ten years. Archer abandoned his post to help me - to help me return to Andoria. In the process, it seems he helped all Andorians and Aenar," Shran said.
Gardner furrowed his brow. "That's what Gral told me. Why did he go to Andoria?"
"He was honor-bound to do so - he is the guardian of my children." Shran drank from the bottle and then pushed some over to Gral. The little pig shrugged and then took a swig. "Besides, while he was there, he exposed the Orions and changed the tide of the war. We're all sharing technology, including with the humans. Sharing technology, it's why even the Ithanites joined."
As if hearing their species, the copper-dwarves waved pointing to four bottles left out of the case.
Shran said, "No, keep going! More." And then he smiled at Gardner. "Hedonistic little fiends. Hard to tell them 'no.'"
"On Earth," Gardner started, "Jon has to answer for crimes. A court will decide whether he's guilty. Your voices and those of your leaders will be added to his defense."
Gral said, "Archer told us once you were in the space program with him. You know the man. He's done so much for Earth. Surely they can … look the other way."
Gardner seemed like he was about to argue again when Shran decided a new tactic was needed.
Shran asked, "What can I give you to let the Pink Skin off? You know …." The Andorian then rubbed his fingers together. He'd seen that in an Earth movie once - Goodfellas. During this downtime in the motel, in fact, he'd seen it with Gral.
"Bribing a Starfleet officer is a -" Gardner started.
Shran cut him off. "Who said anything about a bribe?" Even as he said the words, he had to admit, he was bribing him. Although he didn't think he had quite enough money to do so effectively.
Gral agreed, "We're just talking." The Tellarite next to him put his skinny fingers on Gardner. "You want us to be escorted to Coridan. We want Archer pardoned."
Gardner said, "An escort is for your safety."
Shran said he was carrying the secrets of Andoria with him. Then he nodded to Gral, indicating he was carrying Tellarite secrets. The Ithanites, he argued, were bringing some of their own. Their combined knowledge was what the Romulans wanted - desperately wanted - including dilithium crystals and Earth transporter technology. His antennae whirled. Sure, he was bluffing, but Gardner wouldn't know that. If the Pink Skin had taught him anything, it was that bluffing seemed to be an easy way to get exactly what you wanted.
Sometimes.
As Gral looked on, in horror, Shran ignored him.
Shran continued, "Maybe we should just contact them and give it to them these secrets now."
That bluff seemed to alarm Gardner. The officer said, "You wouldn't dare. Our home worlds' security hangs in the balance - not just Earth. They'd destroy us. All of us."
"For the Hero of the Expanse, Ex-Consort to the Queen, Uniter of Aenar and Andoria, Leader of the Imperial Guard, Carrier of Surak's Katra, Deliverer of the Kir'Shara, Honorary Debater of Terra Prime, Father of the Federation, and avat to my children - I would."
Gral seemed to hold his breath.
Gardner said, "To pardon Archer, I want a Starfleet vessel to take you. All of you."
"Including Archer?" Shran asked. "With his title restored and all charges dropped?"
"You're pushing it," Gardner told him.
"Before I got this job, I was a gem thief. Think I give a ripnik?" Shran asked. His antennae lurched forward.
Gardner sized him up as the Andorian jutted out his chin as he'd seen Archer do a thousand times. Then, the Starfleet officer said, "I'll see what I can do."
"I'll give you a few hours," Shran said. "Three! And I want your vessel to carry this medical transport! Her name is Enterprise. And I'd be damned if we didn't take this down to the planet."
Shran was almost sure he'd used the curse word right and thought Archer secretly would be proud. Gardner rolled his eyes and then walked away. When he was out of hearing range, Gral squealed with delight. Shran told the Ithanites they might not have to dump as much alcohol as before, which also delighted them. To celebrate, the Ithanites danced, which made their furs flap off, showing they were naked underneath.
Gral was about to ask them to stop when Tares - just joining - encouraged them to keep going.
"Bah," Shran said, giving up.
Gral grunted, "Thy'lek Shran of Andoria, you may be a master debater."
Shran said, swaggering, "I'm a master of many things."
Alcohol was added back to the crate. Shran kept his eye on the clock, setting the timer on his PADD. As Shran did, he wondered what he would do when the timer went off.
"I think the Pink Skin and I may be even," Shran said.
Tares corrected him. "He united Andorians with Aenar, brought the castes together, and -"
Shran frowned at her. "I know what he did!"
Gral said, "I guess you owe Archer a few more."
Instead of irritating the Andorian, he laughed. Sure, there was much he owed Archer. It was then Shran took another belt of Andorian ale and Gral took one after him.
[-]
Jon watched Captain Reed pointing his phaser at him. Even now, while Reed held the weapon, Jon knew the assignment hurt the man. He could read it in his eyes and gestures.
T'Pol raised her eyebrows, questioning in their bond, what she should do. In her mind, Jon saw they could overpower Reed - especially with her Vulcan strength, even as weak as she was. But neither thought that would be best.
"Malcolm," Jon said.
"Sir, please, it's hard enough as it is," Reed said. His phaser kept trained on Jon.
"I know," Jon agreed. "You knew we'd be here?"
Malcolm frowned. "After having Soval tour me around Vulcan for more than four hours, I thought perhaps you had come back to the Syrranite compound. I remembered that's where T'Pol's mother passed away."
"Malcolm-" T'Pol started. Even though she was weak, she took a step toward him.
"Stay back, T'Pol. I … don't want to hurt you. Either of you." He frowned greatly. "Hoshi will kill me as it is."
Archer said, "You should take me-"
T'Pol was quick to counter that argument. "Jonathan, we have already discussed this."
"I'm going to surrender myself to you," he agreed. Malcolm seemed to be relieved. "But we'd like to do one thing first."
Reed didn't seem to understand. "What is that?"
"Spread the ashes of our child," Jon said.
The captain's pistol lowered slightly. "I'm sorry? I don't believe I quite heard you."
T'Pol said, "We're spreading the ashes of our child. He's joining his foremother."
Malcolm said, "I'd heard from Travis that the two of you …."
Jon was surprised to hear T'Pol speak up.
She said, "It started much like your relationship with Hoshi - meeting for dinner, being colleagues. Since then, it has evolved. Jonathan and I are bondmates. And I cannot imagine my life without him."
Although Jon had heard the words before, it stirred him. And he reached out to hold her hand.
"But … you had a child together?" he asked. Again, his pistol dropped by degrees.
"Yes," Jon answered, pained. "It seems Clarke's Disease won't enable us to have any others."
Reed whispered, "Hoshi - she's due in a few months."
"Congratulations," Jon said. "That's wonderful!"
"I never thought I'd have children," Reed confessed.
T'Pol answered, sadness in her voice, "Neither did we."
Reed put a hand through his hair as Jon asked him again. "Let us do this one thing, Malcolm, and I won't put up a fight."
"Our nuptials," T'Pol said to Jon.
"Maybe Captain Reed would let you aboard so we can marry," he told her.
"I can't take T'Pol, Admiral." A curse fled Reed's mouth and this time he lowered his weapon completely. Offering his weapon, he instructed Jon. "You should fire on me. If you use a low stun setting, it'll hurt less."
Jon already knew that. "I'm not shooting at you, Malcolm. I know you have a job to do. Just … just let T'Pol and I do this. Spreading his ashes won't take long. You can arrest me afterward."
Malcolm seemed confused about precisely what to do. Cursing one more time, he holstered his weapon and pulled a communicator from his top pocket.
Quickly, he flipped it open and spoke into it. "We got a false reading about a human bio-sign here. So typical of the Forge. We ran into the same issue on Enterprise."
Jon shook his head and Reed continued, "Lock onto this communicator and beam me up on my mark."
"Aye, sir," said someone over the communicator.
"Malcolm," Jon said, heading toward him.
Reed said, "Hoshi and I want you around after our baby is born. We're having a girl. We quite like the name Elizabeth."
T'Pol was touched and - though hurt - walked over to hug him. It was a loose one, more holding him by the arms instead of tight around the chest. The embrace shocked Malcolm. Jon would've been surprised more than a year ago. Now, he wasn't.
Jon added, "I think that's a great name." He gave Malcolm a hug of his own.
"Elizabeth Sato Reed," Reed told them.
"How's Hoshi feeling?" Jon asked. He knew pregnant women went through phases, from throwing up to blissful to cranky.
"Well enough," he said. And the British way he said it made Jon think Hoshi fit into the cranky category.
Reed then looked at the sky, as if noticing twilight falling - the first of the suns setting. "I'm sorry about your child."
"We are, too," T'Pol told him.
"I wish … I wish there were more I could do," Reed said.
"You're doing a lot, now," Jon countered.
Reed said, "When you two were on Earth, we were going to ask you to be godparents." He chuckled awkwardly. "I doubt now is the best time to ask, but -"
Through the bond, Jon knew this tugged at T'Pol's heart just as much as his own.
"We'd be delighted," Jon agreed.
Reed gave a smile. It seemed he was about to go when Jon told him. "You need to take me after we're done here."
Jonathan, no, he heard in his mind.
"Admiral?" Reed asked.
"Someone will eventually get me," he told Reed and then his bondmate. "I'd rather it be Malcolm. Besides, it'll be good to get this over with."
"Sir-" Reed began.
"We're staying with Skon at his wife T'Rama's house, south of the city. You should meet us there in about three hours," Jon said.
Reed then appealed to T'Pol. "I tried to get reassigned from this mission."
"It's all right," Jon said. "I knew the consequences. I'm sorry you're involved."
"Jonathan didn't do this for selfish reasons," T'Pol told Reed.
"I know," Malcolm agreed. "The allied forces recently destroyed an Orion armada. I know it's not a coincidence. I've been hoping for a pardon. Hell, nearly everyone in Starfleet has." Captain Reed, then sighed deeply, mumbling Hoshi would never forgive him. "I'll meet you at T'Rama's in about three hours."
Jon knew T'Pol was about to argue when Reed took out his communicator. "Mark."
And then his body disappeared, transported away.
Jon looked to the sky, wondering the coordinates of the vessel. It was a significant risk, Reed disobeying an order to bide them time. Archer knew his old tactical officer would rather gnaw off a limb than disobey an order. It made his sacrifice all the more precious.
Why? T'Pol asked. He was going to let you go.
Malcolm would face charges of his own for letting me go, sweetheart. I can't allow that to happen.
T'Pol, he knew, didn't necessarily agree, but could see some logic in the words. Jon knew she was loathed to admit it, though.
Without saying anything further, they focused back on spreading the ashes of their child. Together, their hands on the container, they sent the ashes into the wind. The breeze carried the remains into the Forge while Jon bent his head thinking about T'Pol. T'Pol, he knew, was thinking about him in return.
"I love you," he told her quietly.
"I care for you also," she told him.
He felt a tear trickle down his face, evaporating quickly in the desert air. T'Pol seemed to see it and kissed where it had rolled down his cheek. He could tell she was sad but managed to keep emotion from reaching her features. It was a challenge. Still, his wife-to-be felt the emotion of sorrow.
"You will always be in our hearts," she said to the wind.
"He'll join the stars," Jon said, "like our parents."
"Yes," she agreed.
They held each other again, kissed, and held hands. Finally, after sharing their grief silently, he helped her back to the shuttle so they could reach T'Rama's house. The ride back was quiet, the two occasionally holding hands.
[-]
Skon saw his friends come back. To say they were devastated would be an understatement. Worse, when they left the shuttle, Archer helping T'Pol leave, they explained they'd run into Reed and he'd be joining them soon. When Skon offered additional ways to protect Archer, the human said he appreciated the help, but explained he didn't want the Vulcans to interfere further.
Captain Reed had a mission; that needed to be fulfilled.
Skon gave additional scenarios where the Vulcans could assist. T'Rama brought out a Vulcan brandy as if hoping to have Archer drink would change his mind.
But in the end, Archer told them the only regret he had was that he and T'Pol had not completed the bonding ceremony that, to him, signified marriage. Skon quickly left the discussion to contact his sister.
"T'Pau, I need your assistance."
"Brother," she said. "I was about to begin my nightly meditation."
"Come to T'Rama's house and bring the priest who retrieved Surak's katra from Archer. He needs to perform a ceremony."
"Kali-farr?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Skon-" she began.
And he did something unVulcanly; he interrupted. "It is imperative. I do not ask for this lightly."
T'Pau ended the communication and Skon asked for Ministers Kuvak and Soval - especially Soval - to join him at T'Rama's house. When Skon rejoined his wife and friends, he heard T'Rama asking how much longer until Captain Reed arrived. Archer looked at his PADD and determined he only had an hour.
T'Rama fixed a meal, a light one, giving the excuse it was bad manners for Vulcans to send a guest elsewhere hungry. And although he and T'Pol knew better, Archer seemed to be touched by the gesture.
"I'm not really in a mood to eat," he tried to explain.
Skon told the admiral it would be bad manners not to accept. It wasn't exactly a lie; when food was prepared, guests were expected to eat. As if settled, T'Rama headed off to prepare the meal.
Archer put a hand on Skon's shoulder. "Skon, I appreciate everything you've done. I know we've had our differences, but … I count you as a friend."
Skon was unused to human interaction in this manner, touching, but he knew this was important. Archer, he knew, used to connection to reinforce affection. The contact, more than the words, told Skon indeed they were friends.
"Being your friend - it is why I do not want Captain Reed to take you," Skon said.
"I know," Archer said, removing his hand. "Listen, look after her, please. I know she'll need your help."
"Jonathan," T'Pol whispered to her bondmate. It was clear her emotions were surfacing after an arduous day. Archer brought T'Pol to his chest, holding her, as he reiterated the request to Skon.
"Please," he said to Skon.
"T'Pol is one of my closest friends. As are you, Admiral," Skon said. "We will look after her … although I doubt she needs looking after."
Archer gave T'Pol a list of things she should do for him, Skon agreeing to take the chores if needed. Someone should look after Porthos, tell Shran not to avenge whatever decision Starfleet reached, and make progress toward defeating the Romulans. Archer said the Federation was essential to the Romulans defeat.
It was then, the gong chimed outside to alert the house that guests had arrived.
"He's early," T'Pol said.
Archer chuckled, somewhat bitterly. "Malcolm was never late."
"I'm not ready for you to go," T'Pol said.
"It's not like I'm dying," he told her softly.
"The punishment for abandoning a post is at least several years jailtime," T'Pol told him.
"If that's the sentence I get, I may be your age when I leave," he told her. His smile was sad.
Skon heard the gong again and asked his guests to go to the courtyard. Reluctantly, they all ventured out. But instead of Captain Reed, they found T'Pau, Kuvak, Soval, and a Vulcan priest waiting. Instead of discussing pleasantries, Archer seemed to know why they were there. Both were surprised yet thanked them for putting this wedding together so quickly as well as attending. T'Rama joined them as part of the marriage party.
"We do not have much time," Skon told them all.
"This ceremony is irregular, meeting here like this. And it includes outworlders," T'Pau complained. Skon knew T'Pau never approved of the simple wedding he had with T'Rama. This ceremony, with a human, Skon gathered she liked even less. His sister continued, "But, a Vulcan is joining with a human. The marriage is bound to be irregular."
"Infinite diversity in infinite combinations," Soval said. "The universe itself is … irregular."
Archer produced a small laugh at the comment. Skon gave the groom a mallet and pointed him toward the gong in the middle of the courtyard. "Go over to sound it."
As he handed Archer the hammer to strike the gong, the priest told them this ceremony had been passed down from the time of beginning. His voice shook as he said it. Skon had read, as a boy, their ancestors yelled it to the village and the Vulcan gods for acknowledgment.
"This is the Vulcan heart. This is the Vulcan soul," the priest said. "Kali-farr."
As if Archer knew precisely when to strike, without coaching, he rang the gong. Archer rejoined the wedding party, kneeling beside T'Pol. The priest hovered over them to meld separately and then together.
When he was finished, he told them what they already knew.
"They indeed have a bond, already," he announced. Skon believed that news may shake the foundation of the Science Directorate. "Rise."
There were no bells to announce the wedding ceremony was complete. Nor was there a procession. In that way, as well as others, T'Pau was right - this wedding was unusual. But it still held significance.
They arose.
"My people typically exchange vows," he told her. "And rings."
T'Rama dug into a pocket and provided him one. "I have read that, Admiral. Maybe you can use this for the time being."
It was a trinket Skon's bondmate undoubtedly picked up that looked very Earthlike. The ring was small with a tiny gem, red like the magma that poured from Vulcans volcanoes. Archer thanked her and slipped it onto T'Pol's finger.
"We will never be parted, T'Pol," he told her.
"Yes," T'Pol responded. "Never parted."
She held up two fingers to initiate a Vulcan kiss, which he took. Afterward, he took her into his arms and kissed her as a human would. Skon was amused, Vulcanly so, that his sister raised an eyebrow as if disgusted by the practice.
It was then they saw Captain Reed approach. He waited for the two to finish, breaking apart. Even Skon could tell the captain seemed forlorn, as if completing this task was excruciating.
"You don't need to do this," T'Pol said to Reed.
The man wilted at her words. Archer kissed her forehead and then walked toward Reed.
"He does, T'Pol," Jon said. "I'm ready, Malcolm."
"No," T'Pol said, her voice quivering some.
Skon felt the need to say something. "Captain, they lost their child and only married today. Surely there's-"
"I'm sorry," Reed said. And then more softly, he told both Archer and T'Pol, "I'm sorry. I waited. I waited until the wedding was over."
"It's not your fault," Archer agreed.
Soval added, "It would do no harm to wait further, Captain. Verify your orders. Ensure quarters are prepared for the admiral."
"Minister Soval, the brig is ready for him," Reed told him. "These orders … I wish I didn't have to fill them. Since leaving Earth, I've verified them what feels like a hundred times. I keep checking to see if a pardon's come down."
Kuvak said, "It is typical to have a meal after the wedding ceremony. Perhaps you can wait a little longer."
"They're married, aren't they?" Reed asked.
"We're married." Archer said, urging his friends to stop. "It's okay."
T'Pau added, "Vulcan has sovereignty here. This planet does not belong to Starfleet. Or Earth."
"I have my orders," Reed told her. "We don't want to cause an incident; we just want to bring the admiral to Earth for a trial."
T'Pau seemed she had more to say, but Archer spoke up. "Minister, it's okay. Captain Reed is arresting me because I've broken Starfleet regulations … Starfleet law."
The wedding party moved away reluctantly as T'Pol turned to her husband once more and brought her index and middle finger to him. It was another Vulcan kiss. Their foreheads touched as they did so.
"I love you," he told her. "We'll be reunited soon."
"Yes. Never parted," T'Pol told him.
And just as Reed was about to tell his communicator to energize, T'Pol slipped her hand around his collarbone and squeezed. It sent the human to the ground quickly. Archer spun on her with confusion and obvious anger.
"T'Pol?" he said.
Skon agreed that the move was foolhardy. He said, "You just assaulted a Starfleet officer."
T'Pol raised her eyebrows and agreed with them both. "I suppose now, my husband and I will both be in the brig. Together."
"Hell of a honeymoon," Archer told her.
"I meant what I said - never parted," she told him.
Archer shook his head and then he kissed her. It was a human kiss and T'Pol stayed in his arms for nearly a minute as their mouths merged. Skon noted this time, his sister didn't flinch.
