No Beast so Fierce...
Chapter 2
By Verbosity
For disclaimer look to the first chapter.
As always, I love feedback.
Returning to consciousness was a terrible effort. Thoughts moved sluggishly through his mind as he forced his way nearer to the light. He wasn't alone, and for some reason he found that odd, though he couldn't think why. Struggling, he remembered. That was why: it was because he had always been alone. There had never been this sense of presence, this…other. There wasn't supposed to be, not here in this place.
He forced his way further up out of the warm darkness, some of the lethargy fleeing from his mind. There was a sense of difference. Something was different, wrong with the world. All was not as it should be. No, wait...that wasn't him, it was the other, the other had that feeling: a sensation that something fundamental had changed, something so basic that its existence had not even been perceived until it was so shockingly altered.
He groaned. Yes, he remembered. He was…he was…
His mind tried to pull answers from the shadowy twilight surrounding him, ideas thoughts floated close only to disappear into darkness when he reached for them.
"Captain?" The voice penetrated the shadows. It was familiar. There was a face associated with that voice, a name.
"Captain, can you hear me?" The voice came again, clearer this time. He realized that he was still drifting into the brightness he had so struggled toward.
He burst suddenly into light like a swimmer breaking the surface of the water gasping for precious air. Phlox. That was the voice's name.
He became aware that he was lying on some surface. It was soft, comfortable. There was a thin covering over him, not for warmth; the temperature was quite comfortable. So why was it there? Where was he?
The answer bubbled up from the depths of his mind: sickbay. That single thought unleashed a torrent. Thoughts, memories, all the contents of his mind, fell into place and he tried to open his eyes. His vision was blurry and he squinted against the light. There was a dark shape looming over him that after a moment resolved into the smiling face of Doctor Phlox.
Jon's voice came out as a croak, "Doctor?"
"How are you feeling Captain? We were beginning to get a bit worried."
How was he feeling? Turning his attention inward he addressed the question.
The pain in his leg was gone, and so was the dull throbbing of his head. All in all he felt pretty good, a little tired maybe, like even when he had been sleeping he had put effort into something. He was about to say so to Phlox when a shiver went through his mind.
It was an indescribable sensation. A ripple of thought and feeling in his mind that wasn't him: in which he had no part other than to feel it.
"Captain?"
He realized he was staring blankly up at the ceiling, seeing nothing; his mind totally focused on that part of himself that was no longer his. Breaking away he returned his attention to Doctor Phlox.
"Sorry Doctor, it's just, well, T'Pol decided to…" he struggled for a word to describe the sensation, and unable to find one simply said, "Shift. In here."
"Really?" Phlox seemed fascinated, excited. "So you're aware of her on a conscious level?"
"Oh, yeah." The little well of sensation in his head rippled again, restlessly. It was going to be hard to concentrate if this was normal.
"Fascinating. I've read a great deal of the literature on telepathic bonding, not that there's very much to begin with, but rarely is a bond between a telepath and non-telepath ever mentioned. This will make quite a fascinating study. Do you-"
"Doctor," Jon said, cutting off the flow of words. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but how is my crew and ship? How long have I been out?"
"Ah, well, you've been unconscious of the last two days-"
"Two days!"
"Oh, not to worry, Captain. Commander Tucker has matters well in hand. He-"
The com let out a noise, demanding attention, and Phlox stepped over to the console to push a button. "Phlox here."
Tucker's voice came over the speaker. "Doc. Please, tell me somethin's changed since I was last down there."
"Indeed it has Commander. The Captain just woke up a couple minutes ago."
"Trip?" Jon spoke up.
"Jon," The voice across the com oozed relief. "I don't think your voice has ever sounded better."
Jon smiled. "You sound like a man with a problem."
"Oh, you could say that. I got about a million an' one. But all those are engineering problems. It's this last one that's a kicker."
The odd note in Trip's voice set off warning alarms in Jon's head. "Oh?" he said cautiously.
"Well, while you were asleep we seemed to have… ah… misplaced about half the galaxy."
* * *
"Nothing?"
Hoshi shook her head. "Not a peep, sir." She tapped a few buttons on her console. "All systems show normal. The subspace array is functioning perfectly. The only explanation I can come up with is that there's no one out there to reply."
Jon glanced over at Trip and said, "Well, that pretty much cinches it."
Malcolm shook his head from where he sat at tactical. "It seems almost too wild to believe. I mean, another universe? Is it possible that we simply got thrown someplace where certain stars resemble the ones at home?"
"I know how you feel," Jon said. "But the stellar fingerprinting is pretty conclusive. That is Sol, and that's Epsilon Eridani, and that's Sigma Draconis. In terms of position we're right where we should be."
"But we're not."
Jon glanced to Travis as the Ensign spoke, and after a moments pause said, "No."
He looked again to Trip. "You have any ideas about this?"
The engineer gave a helpless laugh. "Cap'n, this level of Quantum and Astrophysics is way out of my field. I mean I've heard multi-universe theories, but nothing that would explain how we got here. Maybe the Vulcans…" He trailed off with a shrug.
Jon nodded. That was about what he had expected. He took a deep breath and said, "Well, when I joined Starfleet the poster did say, "To go where no man has gone before. I just never expected quite this far. What's the repair status Trip?"
"Most of the main systems are up, except warp drive, warp core, and long range sensors. The torpedo system is pretty much gutted from the explosion, but in another few days we should have the Phase cannons back online."
"Could you make use of anything from the Shirasna?"
Trip nodded slowly. "Yeah, It would make a lot of the repairs go faster, but compatibility might be an issue in some cases."
Jon was silent a moment, then said, "Take an engineering team and a couple shuttle pods over. Take what you need. And do an inventory on what's there."
"Yes sir."
* * *
Jon jerked his attention back to the computer screen, but after a few moments found his focus had wandered again to that alien knot of sensation in the back of his mind. It shivered again and he felt a sense of sharpening, and a nebulous ripple of emotion moved out from it.
T'Pol seemed to be getting increasingly restless. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, if it was this hard for him to concentrate when she was unconscious, what would it be like when she was awake?
He shook off the thought and doggedly returned his attention to the screen just before the door chime sounded.
"Enter."
The door swished open and a tired looking Trip stepped through. "Cap'n."
Jon gestured from him to take a seat and asked, "How is it over there?"
Sitting down Trip took a deep breath and then blew it out. "A tomb." There was a haunted look in his eyes as he continued. "They all pretty much dropped where they stood. We've been placing the bodies in the main cargo bay."
He looked at Trip silently as the man stared blankly at the bulkhead. Then he took his empty coffee mug from the desk and filled it from the pot Chef had sent up. Standing and moving round the desk he then held it out to Trip.
Trip stared at it for a moment as if he couldn't figure out what it was. Then, blinking, he seemed to focus on it more clearly and he took the mug.
"Thanks."
Jon watched him silently as he sipped it. Nearly a minute passed as he waited for Trip to regain his equilibrium. The man's voice was soft when he finally did speak.
"Ya' know, I would'a given a whole lot to get a look at the insides of those engines. But not like this."
"I know, Trip. I know."
The silence returned for a moment then Trip shook himself. Looking up at Jon he said, "We should be able to substitute many of the Vulcan components for the ones we're missing. They did help us refine a lot of our own systems after all." He paused for a moment and then said, "It would go a lot faster if we had T'Pol's help."
Jon said, "Phlox says she should be waking up any time now." He rubbed the back of his head. "And judging from how restless she's getting I'd have to agree."
Trip sat up straighter, looking at him, and said, "Yeah, the doc said you were able to sense her. How does that work exactly?"
Jon shoved down his discomfort at the topic. If it would distract Trip from the stuff on the Vulcan ship… "I'm not sure I can describe it. English just doesn't have words that express what it feels like. There are a bunch of places in here now that aren't me. I mean I feel the things she does as if it were me, but at the same time I'm aware it's not." He broke off and rubbed the back of his head again. "Sorry, I'm not explaining it well."
"It's all right. I think I get it. You, basically, feel what she does? Like an echo or somethin'?"
"Not really, and yet sort of."
"Huh," Trip said. After a moment of silence a slight smile crept onto his face. "So, Vulcans have emotions after all?"
Jon shook his head. "I'll talk about how I feel something Trip, but not about what I feel from her. I think you can understand why."
Trip paused, seemingly brought up short, and then said, "Your right. It's like having access to a whole lot of real personal information about someone: you wouldn't want to be blabbing about it."
"Pretty much, it-"
The world suddenly wavered.
Disorientation. Confusion: a sudden return of awareness, a sense of fundamental change. Another presence intertwined with her mind: uncontrolled, undisciplined, emotional, and yet supporting.
"Jon!"
Jon yanked himself away from of the suddenly overwhelming mind within his own. To find that he was being held up by a very worried Trip. Taking a deep breath he said, "T'Pol's awake."
* * *
Jon paused just outside of sickbay, bracing himself. T'Pol was aware he was here. He could feel it. It was the oddest sensation: not just to know, but to feel what another person did. If he'd thought she had been distracting when he was unconscious, with her awake it had gotten ten times worse. Unconscious she had been a vague collection of formless impressions, and feelings. Awake her mind was vibrant, active, and impossible to ignore.
It was layered, a crystalline structure of logic, control, and order. But underneath that he could sense emotions. Like the shift and pull of tides. At the most fundamental of levels they were there, but suborned to the crystal perfection of her mind and will. They gave her being force, but the logic provided structure, purpose.
Right now he could feel an upset in the harmony of her mind. The crystal had been damaged, and was flawed with cracks. Her equilibrium was unbalanced both by the trauma her body had endured, and by the fact that she had awakened to find herself, quite unexpectedly, connected with another being in the most intimate of ways.
He took a deep breath and then stepped forward. And the doors swished open before him.
* * *
T'Pol focused on her breathing and kept herself in a near-meditative state. It was far more difficult than it would normally have been. The Captain's presence permeating her mind brought instability to its painstakingly achieved order.
She had been aware that humans were illogical and undisciplined of mind, but she truly had not understood. Nervousness, worry, uncertainty, fear, even a touch of wonder all flickered through her mind. Only they were not hers, they were his. Yet they affected her much as if their genesis had been in her own mind. Such was the effect of the bond, and the danger of bonding with a non-Vulcan.
It had been done before. But in the more than two and a half millennia of contact with other intelligent species the number of times were a bare handful. Such unions could be hazardous to both the Vulcan and the other. If she had been fully cognizant she might not have agreed to-
She terminated that line of thought. It was done. She would have to deal with whatever came of it.
She sensed the firming of his resolve a moment before Sickbay's doors opened.
"Ah, Captain." Doctor Phlox greeted the arrival. "I was just about to contact you. But of course you're already aware that T'Pol is awake, yes?"
"Yes, Doctor. Quite aware."
T'Pol could feel his regard and opened her eyes, turning her head slightly, to return it.
"How are you-" He broke off shaking his head. "No, I already know the answer to that."
"Perhaps you should continue to converse as you normally would, Captain." She suggested. "It might seem redundant, but it would give you an element of familiarity in an unfamiliar process."
She felt him consider that for a moment before he nodded. "Sound advice." He chuckled. "Though it is going to feel a little odd."
T'Pol suppressed the discomfort as his flicker of amusement brushed over the damaged portions of her psyche.
He looked at her sharply as he caught it and said, "Sorry." And then, "But don't worry, you won't have to put up with me once Doctor Phlox thinks your nervous system has recovered enough to stand on it's own…"
He trailed off as he saw the expression on Phlox's face.
T'Pol braced herself for the emotional response she was about to endure. Doctor Phlox had discussed his findings with her before the Captain had come to sickbay.
"Captain," the doctor started hesitantly. "We have a bit of a problem."
Archer looked from Phlox to her and back. The sense of him was filled with trepidation. "What kind of problem?"
Doctor Phlox glanced once at her and then said, "From the data I have been amassing on what has happened to T'Pol severing the bond would be extremely detrimental."
"What are you saying?"
"I have come to the conclusion that there was nothing wrong with T'Pol in the first place. Her nervous system is functioning exactly as it should. It is the environment that is causing the problem. There is some factor having to do with wherever it is that we are that is inimical to the functioning of the Vulcan nervous system. I have been unable to isolate exactly what that factor is."
"It is unlikely that you will be able to Doctor." T'Pol could feel the growing dismay in the Captain. "If we are indeed in another universe, as you tell me the crew has surmised, then the problem may be a subtle difference in the quantum physics of this universe. The Vulcan brain is more dependent upon those effects than the human."
Phlox absorbed that silently for a moment and then, turning again to the Captain, said, "If that is the case, then there is nothing more I can do. If we sever the bond it will mean T'Pol's death."
He turned away from them both and took a couple steps. T'Pol closed her eyes, trying to keep her equilibrium against the sudden surge of feelings. She turned completely inward as her control began to fracture, blotting out awareness of anything but what seethed blow her mind's veneer of logic. After a moment the emotions subsided and it became easier.
When she was certain of her mastery again she returned her attention outward. The Captain's sense radiated a carefully muted concern. She could feel his attention on her, but his emotions were being brutally suppressed. He had apparently figured out what his response had been doing to her.
She opened her eyes to find Phlox observing the readings on a medical scanner.
This was not acceptable. She needed time and space to meditate, to reacquire some kind of equilibrium.
Doctor Phlox's voice was careful as he asked, "Are you all right, Sub-Commander?"
"Physically, I'm fine, Doctor. Mentally however I will need time to recover, but given the current situation, that will be-" she met the Captain's gaze. "Difficult. We will need to have a long discussion at some point in the near future, Captain."
He nodded. "That's a given." Looking at the Doctor he asked, "When will she be able to return to duty?"
Phlox was silent for several seconds. "I want to keep her here for another day at least. Then she can return to her quarters. After that, considering the situation, I will permit light duty, but light duty only until further notice."
* * *
Jon pressed the chime on the door to T'Pol's quarters. It had been nearly a week since she'd woken up. He'd put off this meeting as long as possible, partially in deference to letting T'Pol heal and partially from his own discomfort. He was still trying work out how he felt about all this, and that in turn wasn't helping T'Pol. There was also the small matter of him having a hard time concentrating. He had the impression that she was making an effort to be as unobtrusive as possible, but the fact of the matter was that he was getting distracted when he shouldn't, and he couldn't put off dealing with it any longer.
"Enter."
He started to reach for the door control an instant before he realized that he hadn't actually heard that. It had been a flash of something between an image and a feeling that his mind had interpreted as T'Pol saying "Enter". Drawing a deep breath he opened the door.
The inside of her quarters was dark, illumined only by several candles. She was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room. He could tell that she was near the end of whatever type of meditation she was doing. Her mind felt… peaceful. He concentrated more fully on her and…
Stillness, cold, the soft sound-absorbing silence of falling snow, the song of wind shivering over ice crystals…
The impressions faded and he realized her eyes were now open and looking at him.
"What…what was that?"
Her head cocked slightly to the side before she replied, "Many forms of meditation involve visualization of vistas with specific connotations: still water, or a pleasant scene. The one I was using was a place on Vulcan I visited as a child."
He contemplated the images for a moment. "I always thought of Vulcan as too hot to have snow."
"The temperature on Vulcan varies quite drastically from night to day. The nighttime temperatures can reach well below freezing. But in the mountains of the polar region there is considerable accumulation of ice."
"Ah," he said and then fell silent. He wasn't sure how to start.
T'Pol Regarded him silently from her position of the floor. He met her gaze. She felt better, not entirely, but the working of her mind felt… smoother. Her emotions weren't as close to the surface. He'd never felt anything like that upsurge of emotion from her in sickbay. It had been volcanic. She had always been so unemotional and controlled that it was hard to reconcile what he had felt with her behavior.
"That is Vulcan nature."
Her words took him by surprise; she seemed to be answering his thoughts. "Can you…" He gestured to his head.
"I do not perceive your individual thoughts, at least not at this point, but I do sense generalities." She gave a slight shrug. "From there it is easy to deduce."
He took another deep breath and shifted uncomfortably, feeling exposed.
"I am not certain how the bond will develop in a human, so I may only give you guidance as it happens, and show you techniques to deal with commonly does." She hesitated, and looking down, said, "I am sorry."
"Sorry? T'Pol you have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing here has been your fault. In fact all of this has been a lot harder on you than me."
"At the current time," she said, not lifting her gaze from where it rested on her hands in her lap.
He stared at her. Underneath the calm there was an emotion roiling. It took him a moment to identify it: she felt ashamed. Why…
A thought occurred to him and he asked, quietly, "Vulcan nature?"
Her eyes came up to meet his.
"Vulcan psychology and biology are both involved. The intensity of the bond we now share is not invoked except under certain circumstances."
She fell silent and he waited. T'Pol was obviously struggling with telling him whatever it was she trying to.
"How much of Vulcan history are you aware of?"
Taken a little off guard it was a moment before he answered, "Not much. I'm aware of a few major events, like Surak. That was what? A couple thousand years ago."
She nodded and said, "Our recorded history that we are aware of, if at times only in fragments, encompasses over one hundred and ten thousand years."
One hundred… He stared at her. After a moment he sunk into a cross-legged position on the floor across the candle from her. "I have the feeling this is going to take a while."
As she began to speak he listened to her, fascinated, not just with her words but her. Beneath her expressionless face he could feel her thoughts moving like quicksilver. Constant, never still. And beneath that he occasionally felt the stir of various emotions, all quickly controlled.
"Our world was once what humans would likely describe as a lush paradise. That ended when our star became unstable and flared. The resulting heat and radiation seared the surface of the planet, boiling off the oceans and killing ninety-nine percent of all life. Were you to visit Vulcan today you would observe that many of the mountaintops were melted by the intensity of the event."
"How did your people survive?"
"In caves far beneath the surface. It was generations before the environment recovered to the point where existence upon the surface was possible for us. When my race emerged upon the surface it was to find a world much changed. It was a world hard, brutal, and unforgiving. The intensity of the environment encouraged a certain speed in evolution, for if a species did not evolve it would perish."
In the midst of a pause he asked, "That's the reason why Vulcans tend to be stranger, faster, and smarter than humans? There was some debate about that on Earth. The actual physical characteristics of Vulcans didn't match the projections from the environmental profile."
She raised an eyebrow at him.
"There was a study done about thirty years ago," he explained. "The actual capacities of Vulcans didn't match what the biologists said they should. And your people weren't very forthcoming."
"That would be part of the reason, yes."
"Part?"
"Not only did my people fight against the environment but also each other. Resources were scarce, and competition for them was bloody. Those children that exhibited the most desirable qualities were the ones that were allowed to pass those on to latter generations."
He processed that, a bit taken back. "Eugenics?"
"Essentially, but far more draconian than any that has been practiced on Earth. And it continued far longer than your entire recorded history. The teachings of Surak caused the abandonment of such practices, but its effects remain."
"I assume you're talking about more than just the physical development."
"Yes. Some of the qualities that were highly prized were the Mind Sciences."
"Mind Sciences? Like mind melds?"
"Yes. That is one of the gifts. There are ones that are more common and others that are rare. A gift that was most highly valued was the ability to sense the presence of water, later the ability to find metals, neither of which were abundant. All Vulcans are telepathic in some measure."
"But those with the ability to mind meld have been persecuted."
"There are other…gifts that were persecuted, and coveted, far more." She hesitated. And he felt uncertainty in her, as if she was unsure about revealing something to him. But she continued, saying, "One such was the Killing Gift."
That didn't sound pleasant. She confirmed his thoughts a moment later.
There were some few Vulcans that found the ability to kill another with thought alone. First to kill a single person and then, as the ability was refined and inbred, more. Until at last, the strongest of these gifts could kill an entire city a continent away, though he would die in the doing of it. But even as they developed it the gift grew rarer. I know of no one who has possessed it in many centuries."
She was silent again, and Jon looked down at the candle between them for a moment then up at her. "Okay, but what does all this have to do with our current situation?"
"During the millennia of refining these gifts the genetics of it all were not fully understood. During this process less desirable traits were bred into and spread throughout the population. We have always been a passionate people, but what the breeding programs did was take this to an unhealthy extreme. Think of it as having a bipolar disorder that affected all emotions: rage, calm, happiness, sadness; they are all there but when they come they are dangerously intense."
Jon considered the one time he had seen a Vulcan angry and he absently rubbed the spot where the bruise had been after he'd been thrown across the room.
When he regained eye contact with T'Pol she said, "We nearly destroyed ourselves. Only Surak saved us from self-annihilation. He gave us the tools to control this thing we had created."
He said a single word that he knew she would understand, "Sickbay?"
She nodded. "Yes. Due to the circumstances my control was already tenuous and the added stress of your distress deteriorated it further. That is another fact you should be aware of is that due to the bond I am not immediately objective when it comes to you"
"How so?"
"This bond is a stronger form of what is generally used in a marriage ceremony."
Oh. "So by Vulcan law we…"
"Traditionally, we could be considered married. However due to the medical nature and lack of cognizance during the bond's formation it would likely not be taken that way."
"All right, how would this affect your judgment?"
"While we are not necessarily married by social custom my subconscious and body do not recognize the distinction. The Vulcan marriage is not merely a matter of social custom as it is on Earth, but biology. There are certain sets of instincts that go with the formation of a bond such as this and while instincts may be suppressed, they are nevertheless there."
Okay, he needed to think about that for a while. She was taking the time to tell him this and, judging from what she was feeling, it was making her quite uncomfortable so there must be a good reason. "Will this impair your ability to function as my second in command?"
"It should not, however it is a fact you should be aware of. As is-"
The communicator bleeped. "Captain Archer?"
Jon glanced from it to T'Pol and said, "We'll continue this later."
He stood and moved to the communicator. "Archer here."
"Sir," Hoshi's voice came through. "There is something I need to show you."
"Alright, I'll be right there." He glanced once at T'Pol and exited.
* * *
T'Pol glided to her feet as the captain left. It was time she returned to bridge duty; Doctor Phlox had approved several hours a day at her station. He was being cautious, but considering the situation, that was only appropriate.
She removed a heavier outer shirt from her closet and turned to put out the candles. A faint feeling of pressure gusted through her. The flames flickered and died on the wicks.
She automatically muted her startled response and froze, examining the sensation. After a moment she concluded that it hadn't been external. She'd done that.
Stepping to the desk, she relit a candle. Staring at it she tried to reproduce the previous sensation. It was surprisingly easy, and the candle flickered and died.
A wisp of smoke rose from the wick and she stared silently at it, turning what she had just done over in her mind. She knew of Vulcans that had the ability to manipulate things by thought.
However, she had never been one of them.
* * *
Jon arrived on the bridge. Nodding to Malcolm and Travis at their stations he turned toward Hoshi. She was hunched over her console, earpiece in one ear, and she was apparently concentrating hard on something.
As he stepped up next to her she glanced up at him with a distracted expression on her face and said, "Could you give me just a moment sir?"
He nodded at her and leaned against the railing to wait. A couple minutes passed and he was about to nudge Hoshi for and explanation when the lift doors opened.
T'Pol stepped onto the bridge.
A smile appeared on Malcolm's face as he said, "Sub-Commander."
T'Pol looked around the bridge, meeting Malcolm and Travis's gazes, and nodded to each.
"Lieutenant. Ensign."
She met Jon's eyes as she sat at her station. Even after she looked down at her console he continued to look at her. Odd, the sense of her was almost uncertain. Something had disturbed her after he'd left her quarters.
"Sorry, sir." Hoshi said. "I just needed to makes sure I had that right."
"What right?"
"I think I've found the missing interstellar communications. You see we were looking for subspace signals. And there aren't any, because they're using tachyons."
"You're, sure?"
"Yes, sir. These tachyon bursts are definitely some kind of faster than light communication."
He glanced toward the science station. "T'Pol?"
She looked up from the display and said, "It looks as if the tachyon frequency is being modulated to encode messages. The sensors are detecting many such signals. Fascinating."
Jon glanced down at Hoshi and smiled. She grinned back, no doubt as relieved as he was to hear T'Pol's expressions once again. "What is?"
"Subspace communication is preferred over methods such as this in our universe due to the fact that developments in subspace technology necessary for interstellar travel make it far more efficient to use for communication. The fact that we are seeing the use of tychon's for this purpose added to the lack of subspace activity indicates that there is some other method of faster than light travel. And it leads me to wonder why it was developed instead of subspace."
Lieutenant Reed spoke up from his station and said, "That could be either good or bad, sir. Tactically speaking. We don't know what anyone here uses, but they probably won't know what to make of a warp drive."
"It would be advantageous, T'Pol said, "To regain the use of long range sensors so that we could make observations of any nearby civilizations."
Jon nodded and activated the comm on Hoshi's console. "Bridge to engineering."
After a moment Trip's voice came over the speaker. "Capt'n?"
"Trip, could you give me an estimate on how long till we have long range sensors back online?"
"It'll be a few more days, sir. That system was hit pretty hard and we're havin' to scrounge what we can from the Shirasna."
"All right, Trip. Keep me posted."
"Yes, sir."
He glanced from Hoshi to T'Pol and said, "Well, a few more days for that. So, in the meantime, Hoshi."
"Yes, sir?"
"See what you can make of the transmissions. They may give us some idea of what the situation is and maybe a way to contact home. Home here, anyway."
He moved over to the science station as Hoshi bent over her console. "T'Pol, how's the research going?"
"I have been unable to find any information of use in the Shirasna's database. There is no record of any Vulcan ship that has experienced a similar occurrence."
He sighed. "I was afraid of that."
T'Pol lowered her voice and, glancing at Hoshi said, "Have you considered the fact that neither Earth or Vulcan may exist in this universe?"
"Yes," he said, his voice equally low. "But we'll deal with that as it comes."
* * *
The fine grain sand blew upon the wind, swept up on eddies and vortices, it got into every fold and crevasse of clothing. The air was dry, dry enough to suck the moisture from unprotected flesh. The reddish light of the sun, moving upward as day ended, left the desert sands in shadow and touched the sides of mount Sulaya with crimson.
He looked upward at the mountain towering endlessly above him, his eyes picking out the narrow path as it wound across the worn rock. He needed to hurry; with the fall of darkness many of the larger predators were already stirring. In fact he could hear the faint call of a Seyat from the canyons at the mountains base.
Breep.
He frowned.
Breep.
Jon pulled himself out of sleep at the sound of the comm. He paused half sitting, disoriented. He'd been dreaming of Vulcan. Vividly. Why had he been dreaming of Vulcan?"
A restless ripple went through him, an echo of another sleeping mind. Ah. T'Pol had been dreaming of Vulcan. Apparently he'd been along for the ride.
Breep.
The comm. continued to try for his attention and he filed the dream away with the collection of other questions he needed to ask T'Pol. He'd give it a couple days; he was still trying to digest Pon Farr.
He hit the button on the comm. "Yes?"
Lieutenant Reed's voice came through. "Sorry to disturb you, sir. But we've cracked the tachyon communications."
The last couple days Reed and Hoshi, with some help from T'Pol, had been working overtime on figuring out the tachyon bursts.
"Good job, Lieutenant." He rubbed a hand over his face. "But I assume there is more to it than that or else this could have waited till morning."
"Sir," Reed halted.
He'd never heard that tone in Malcom's voice. Suddenly he was wide awake. "Lieutenant?"
"Sir, Earth does exist in this universe. But it may not for much longer. They're being exterminated."
