The
Cultural Addition
a Star
Trek: Enterprise - based fan fiction
by: Joycelyn
Solo
Summary: An unexpected pregnancy has some interesting consequences
for Trip, T'Pol, the Enterprise and the future of Humanity.
Author's note: This story takes place Season Three, so
expect general episodic references, but with definite AU qualities.
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Enterprise and associated
characters are property of Paramount Pictures. I mean no copyright
infringement, this story is for entertainment purposes only.
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Trip/T'Pol Romance; Mystery
Chapter Thirty - A desert holiday
In the moments before Vulcan's sun would rise and bathe the land in a heat almost too intense for its inhabitants, two figures stood in silence atop a sand-covered hill.
No words were exchanged between the two, for none were needed. A bonded couple, their minds were linked in a way few outsiders would understand. Her thoughts were his, just as his thoughts were hers.
Together they stood, watching the first rays of sunlight stretch across the desert terrain with a red glow.
As the sun continued its ascent, the figures turned as one, their fingers extended toward one another as they strove to deepen the psychic connection they shared with one another. At first touch, both closed their eyes with the intensity of the other's thoughts. It had been some time since they had been alone together like this; far too long as outside forces had kept them apart.
Though, as their bond strengthened with the physical contact of their fingers, they could not deny that their growing distance was not the fault of others alone.
T'Les slowly withdrew her hand from her husband's. "You have been too hard on her, Soval."
As he walked with his wife back to the groundcar they had driven from the city, Soval answered, "She should not have stayed aboard the Human vessel past the first mission or after the incident at P'Jem. It was my influence that allowed her to remain with the Human crew. It is the fault of my actions that our daughter is in her current condition."
"You take undue blame onto yourself, Husband," T'Les commented. "Where is the logic in this?"
"Where is the logic in our daughter's bond with a Human officer?"
"Perhaps she feels for him what I feel for you, Soval. T'Pol cares deeply for Commander Tucker, and he for her. You must have known that with the increased interaction of Vulcan and Earth and other species that our cultures would eventually entwine themselves together though the actions of individuals."
"There was always the possibility, Wife," Soval admitted, pausing as they approached the groundcar. "I just did not expect our daughter to be the first, nor did I expect such interaction to happen so quickly."
"T'Pol and Commander Tucker may be the first interspecies couple, Husband, but I doubt they will be the last."
Opening the door of the groundcar, Soval was greeted by the incessant beeping of his communicator. The day was still quite young and he could not think of who would have attempted to contact him at such an early hour, especially when he had left instructions with his staff that he would be unavailable until later.
The logical conclusion was that there was that the matter was one of urgency and, even as he accessed the message left for him, Soval could not help think of his daughter. Looking to his wife, he saw the worry she did not bother to hide. Despite their differing opinions about T'Pol's union with the Human engineer, both were well aware of the physical danger their daughter was in. Though she was monitored constantly by the specialists at the Vulcan Science Academy and rarely without the company of Commander Tucker, there was always the chance that something could go horribly wrong with the pregnancy.
Listening to the message left for Soval, T'Les felt her legs buckle and only the quick action of her husband kept her from falling to the ground in shock over the news.
T'Pol...
After assisting his wife into the groundcar, Soval quickly maneuvered the vehicle back toward the city and, without the caution usually recommended for driving through the hilly terrain, sped toward the city.
T'Pol woke to the sound of strange voices.
After a moment, she realized the voices were not all that strange, but the ringing in her ears made it difficult to accurately identify the speakers.
Opening her eyes, she felt a moment of panic when she could not see anything before realizing that a bandage covered them.
Feeling her husband's presence, she called out, "Trip?"
"I'm here, T'Pol." She felt pressure on the bed and the reassuring touch of her mate's hand on hers. "How do you feel?"
"Disoriented. What happened?"
"We're still trying to figure that out," he answered. "What do you remember?"
T'Pol frowned, the ringing in her ears a distraction as she attempted to piece together her last memories. "I was discussing Vulcan artwork with Ensign Kyle while you were meeting with Admiral Gardner." She frowned, unable to recall anything further. "Trip, what has happened?"
"There was an explosion at the Embassy, T'Pol." Trip's voice was quiet, as he delivered the news. "You've been out for two days."
"An explosion?" T'Pol asked, unable to believe such an accident could occur.
"This was no accident, T'Pol," Trip said, his grip on her hand increasing. "Someone planted a bomb in the second level garden."
"A bomb," she repeated, the concept even more unbelievable than an accident.
"More specifically, it was the deliberate detonation of Starfleet-issue concussive devices hidden inside one of the newly furnished garden statues," a distinctively non-Vulcan voice provided.
"Lieutenant Reed?"
"Hello, T'Pol. I'm glad to see you're awake."
"Not as nearly glad as I am," added another voice. T'Pol's eyebrows gathered in confusion under the bandage she wore as she recognized Dr. Phlox's soothing tone. "If you are curious about the bandage over your eyes, Sub-Commander, let me assure you that it was merely a precaution. With the debris we found in the hallway with you, I took the liberty of adding a salve to help dissolve any foreign material."
Sensing his wife's confusion over their crewmates' presence, Trip explained, "The whole crew's here, T'Pol. The cap'n's leading the investigation at Admiral Forrest's request. He wanted to be here when you woke up, but he's meeting with the Vulcan authorities at the moment. Soval's actually been a big help with that."
"My father?"
"Soval and T'Les were here when you were brought in. Your mom's with T'Vin, now, helping make arrangements with the Vulcan families."
"How many?" T'Pol asked.
"Forty-three casualties, a third of them Vulcan," Phlox provided. "You and Commander Tucker were fortunate not to be in your suite when the explosion occurred. Several of the living quarters were destroyed as well as the gymnasium, secondary cafeteria and several conference rooms."
As the doctor informed her of the damages, T'Pol's free hand moved to rest on her swollen abdomen. She and Ensign Kyle had been discussing the Human woman's fascination with Vulcan glasswork, an art form unique to a world covered with sand that could be melted and molded into whatever form the artist desired. They had been headed toward Selina's quarters when the explosion occurred. She remembered being propelled forward and then --
"Where is Ensign Kyle?" T'Pol asked, remembering the sound of the explosion in her ears.
"The ensign's injuries were minor," Phlox informed her. "She is working aboard Enterprise with Ensign Sato to inform the victim's families back on Earth."
T'Pol nodded, her relief over the Ensign Kyle's well-being short-lived in the face of the tragedy that had struck so close to home -- both her Vulcan and Human senses of the word.
For the first time in two days, Trip allowed himself a chance to step outside for some fresh air -- or what passed for fresh air on a desert world, anyway.
Even compared to his pre-T'Pol days when the engineer would allow his emotions to get the better of him in nearly all situations, Trip had been a wreck in the time following the Embassy bombing.
Since he'd felt the rumble of the explosion from the relative distance and safety of Admiral Gardner's office, he had been worried about his wife and children.
Though he could feel T'Pol's reassuring presence in their bond and was assured by Phlox and T'Vin that his wife was merely resting while she healed herself, Trip hadn't allowed himself a moment to relax until his wife told him, herself, that she was fine.
Squinting his eyes, Trip admonished himself for not grabbing a pair of protective lenses before leaving the shadowed entrance of the Academy medical facility. Granted, he didn't plan on spending a lot of time away from T'Pol, but the intense sunlight was interfering with his attempt to relax himself.
"Commander Tucker?"
Trip turned at the sound of his name, recognizing the sound of his mother-in-law's voice even as his eyes fought to distinguish her features in the sand-enhanced glare.
"Hello, T'Les," he greeted, putting his hand over his eyes to shield them. "I thought I told you not to call me 'Commander Tucker.'"
"I told you, Commander, that I will not use your nickname -- no matter how logical you seem to think it is."
Despite himself, Trip felt a grin spread across his face as he remembered telling T'Les why her daughter called him "Trip." Though he'd explained that he was the third son to be called "Charles Tucker," his mother-in-law did not quite appreciate the triple concept and refused to use his preferred method of address.
"If I say you can get away with calling me 'Charles,' will you drop the 'Commander Tucker'?" he asked.
T'Les tilted her head slightly, a gesture that reminded Trip of his wife. "I find that acceptable, Charles."
Pleased with the compromise, Trip turned with his mother-in-law back toward the Science Academy. "I'm guessing that you're here to see T'Pol."
"That is a logical assumption, Charles. Your Dr. Phlox informed T'Vin of her progress. She, in turn, passed that information along to me."
"I was going to call you myself, but I was caught up in --"
"There is no need to apologize, Charles. I can understand your concern for my daughter and the subsequent relief at her waking. Though I have not spent as much time with Humans as my husband or T'Pol, I do understand quite a bit of your species."
Trip wasn't quite sure how to take that, but didn't press the issue as he felt a tickle at the back of his mind.
T'Pol?
I am well, Trip, but I would appreciate your presence at your most earliest convenience. Though T'Pol attempted to assure him that she was not in any immediate harm, there was a hint of distress to his feel of her -- quickly cut off as she strengthened the guard around her mind.
"Is something wrong, Charles?" T'Les asked as Trip began moving more quickly along the corridor.
"T'Pol's got company," he said, attempting to touch his wife's mind once again.
Sensing, but not understanding, her son-in-law's determination, T'Les quickened her pace and followed Trip toward T'Pol's room.
Feeling the approaching and reassuring presence of her husband, T'Pol allowed herself to relax as she regarded her "guest."
Despite her protests to the contrary, T'Pol had been resting as ordered by Dr. Phlox and seconded by Trip -- until her sleep was interrupted by a small tendril of someone's presence in her mind.
The mind-touch had seemed familiar, but was cold compared to the familiar presence of Trip's mind.
Opening her eyes, grateful that the bandages had been removed earlier, T'Pol was only mildly surprised by the person standing at her beside.
Having once shared a mind meld with him when she was seven-years-old, T'Pol supposed she should have expected a residual connection to the man who would have been her husband.
If it were not for the man who was her husband -- a displeased Human currently standing in the doorway.
"Who the hell are you?" Trip asked, glaring at the Vulcan man standing too close to his wife.
"I am Koss," the Vulcan said, not moving as Trip maneuvered himself so that he was standing between his wife and the man who had caused her even the mildest distress.
"The ex?" Trip asked, his tone surprised as he regarded Koss.
T'Les and Koss, obviously confused by the term, looked to T'Pol.
"Yes, Husband. Koss is my former betrothed."
Trip eyed Koss. "Huh. I expected you to be taller."
Looking down at the engineer, Koss replied, "You are shorter than I am, Human."
Trip shrugged. "So what brings you to my wife's hospital room?"
"I was concerned. Though our betrothal was dissolved, I do not wish harm to come to T'Pol."
Trip looked skeptical, a feeling echoed in his wife. As far as he knew, T'Pol had not heard from Koss since she broke off their engagement two years ago.
"You can see, Koss," T'Les said, addressing the Vulcan she had once allowed Soval to chose for her daughter's mate, "T'Pol and her unborn children are doing well."
At the mention of the children, Koss looked pointedly at T'Pol's swollen abdomen. "As I said, I do not wish harm to come to T'Pol. Or to her children. That is why I have come here today. I do not believe you are entirely safe while you remain on Vulcan."
Both Trip and T'Pol tensed at the ominous -- for a Vulcan, at least -- tone of Koss' voice.
"Do you know something about the attack upon the Embassy, Koss?" T'Pol asked.
"I have no information that would further your captain's investigation, but there has been talk among some groups that the Vulcan alliance with Earth has gone on long enough with no benefit to our people."
Trip frowned. "And what does that have to do with the safety of our children?"
"Your children are the first Vulcan-Human hybrids; the truest sign of our two cultures integration. There are many who see their very existence as a possible threat to the future of our species."
"Not all Vulcans have agreed with our efforts to help Humans and other species," T'Les said, "But I do not believe they would take the measures you are suggesting."
"As I said, I have no information that would further your investigation, only a wish to see no harm come to T'Pol or her children." Koss turned his attention fully on Trip. "Or to you, Commander."
"What did I do?"
"You are the father of these children and, in some eyes, the chief contributor of the pollution of Vulcan culture."
Trip opened his mouth to protest Koss' statement, but couldn't really think of anything to say. He knew some Vulcans could be close-minded pains in the ass -- the same as some Humans -- but even he found it hard to believe that any of them could be responsible for the Embassy bombing.
Or potential threats to his children.
