The Senators were staring up at the ceiling, speechless. The words of the Kir'Shara shown on the walls and ceiling in glimmering lights. There were several moments of stunned silence then everyone started talking and pointing at once. In the confusion, no one noticed the Administrator slip out a side door.
Suddenly the words disappeared. Everyone turned to see Archer standing with his hand on the Kir'Shara.
"Wait!" Archer's deep voice boomed through the room. "Before I turn the Kir'Shara over to you, I want T'Pol released!"
The First Minister turned to a guard and gestured. The guard turned smartly on his heel and left the room.
"Consider it done," the First Minister said.
Archer nodded and activated the Kir'Shara again. Again everyone started talking at once.
"Is it real?"
"How can this be?"
"Where did it come from?"
Archer stepped back against the wall. He could see T'Pau talking to the First Minister. She appeared to be recounting the events of the last few days as she gestured at Archer and the Kir'Shara. A part of him watched the group with satisfaction as they appeared to accept the significance of the Kir'Shara. But his role was over. Now it was up to Vulcan society to embrace or reject this revelation.
Out of the corner of his eye, Archer saw a door open. T'Pol walked in rubbing her wrists as if she had recently been released from restraints. She stopped a few feet into the room and stared in amazement. Her eyes shifted back and forth from the Kir'Shara to the walls, trying to comprehend the unfolding events.
Archer felt relief wash over him as he realized that T'Pol was safe and unharmed.
"T'Pol!" The voice was hoarse, and barely above a whisper. But something in the tone made her tear her eyes away from the ancient words. She looked around to see Captain Archer take two steps towards her, his arm reaching out to her. Then, the adrenaline which had sustained him for the last several days seem to drain away. She did not remember how she got there, but she caught him just as he collapsed to the floor. Once again, she found herself cradling his head in her lap.
"Captain," she whispered.
"T'Pol?" His eyes were only half open. His hand came up searching. T'Pol took his hand in hers and squeezed.
"I am here."
"Did they hurt you?" She could barely make out his words.
"I am unharmed," She answered simply.
Seeming relieved, he closed his eyes and slumped into her arms, the last of adrenaline finally abandoning him. Meanwhile the room grew quiet as everyone slowly became aware of Archer.
"Get a doctor! Quickly!" One of the Senators ordered.
"The katra! We must preserve Surak's katra!" T'Pau rushed to Archer's side.
"NO!" T'Pol's voice roared out with such force that T'Pau and several people took a step back. They were shocked by the display of emotion.
"I will not allow you to do him any further harm. He has risked his life to bring the Kir Shara here. I will not risk it any further." Protectively, T'Pol pulled Archer closer to her.
T'Pau opened her mouth to protest, but T'Pol cut her off.
"Not even to save Surak's katra."
Though T'Pol's face had regained its Vulcan mask, T'Pau could sense that it would not do any good to argue any further.
T'Pol looked down to see Archer staring at her. He seemed to be protesting that he was fine, but no sound came from his lips. T'Pol could feel that he had a high fever. He was beginning to shake uncontrollably. His face was tense with pain, and his eyes were glazed over with confusion.
"Water, he needs water!" T'Pol commanded.
Someone brought over a glass. T'Pol put it to Archer's lips, but he did not understand. Carefully, she poured a small amount into his parted lips. Most of it spilled out, but then he instinctively swallowed. She managed to get him to take a couple of more mouthfuls before he pushed her hand away.
A Vulcan doctor appeared at Archer's side with a medical scanner.
"We need to get him to a hospital," the doctor said flatly.
"No!" T'Pol cut in. She knew that the Vulcan doctors had no experience with Humans. "Contact Enterprise. Tell them to send a shuttle with Doctor Phlox."
XXXXXXXX
T'Pol waited impatiently in the docking port. Archer was lying on a gurney. They had removed his shirt and draped a wet sheet over him. Every few moments, T'Pol sprayed water onto the sheet. In the arid Vulcan atmosphere, the water rapidly evaporated providing a very effective means of cooling. However, she could tell from the medical scanner, that his body temperature was still too high. She had not allowed the Vulcan physician to give Archer any medications for fear that they were incompatible.
Archer was only partially conscious. His whole body was shaking, and he was tossing fitfully. Every couple of minutes a soft moan would escape his lips. His eyes fluttered open and he searched the room, confused.
"Captain. Lie still. The shuttle will be here soon," T'Pol tried to reassure him. But he did not seem to hear her. So she took his hand in hers. "Captain. Save your strength."
He gripped her hand very hard as a wave of pain washed over him. Then he slumped back onto the gurney, but he did not release her hand. She wiped the sweat from his brow.
Finally the docking port doors opened. Dr. Phlox stepped out and immediately began to scan the Captain. Following close behind was Crewman Mitchell, a trained medic. Mitchell dropped to the ground and opened the medical case he was carrying. Anticipating Phlox's orders, he had an IV and hypo spray ready. Phlox administered the hypo spray while Mitchell inserted the IV.
"OK. Let's get the Captain back to Enterprise," Phlox's voice was steady but urgent.
Trip was waiting in the shuttle bay. Before the shuttle door was completely open, Mitchell and Mayweather were already maneuvering the stretcher onto a waiting gravi-gurney. Trip rushed up to help. His stomach twisted when he then condition of his friend. Though most of his face was hidden by an oxygen mask, Trip could see that the Captain's cheeks were sunken, and that he was very pale. His breathing was ragged and his body was tense with pain.
"Come on! Let's move it!" Trip yelled. He could feel panic rising up in his throat. He raced down the hall beside the gurney. Trip glanced up at T'Pol who as on the other side. Her face was the usual impenetrable mask, but he could see that her eyes were glued to the Captain's face.
As they burst through the Sickbay doors, Trip saw a thermo control chamber waiting on one of the biobeds. Two other medics were ready. Several sets of hands helped lift Archer's limp body into the chamber.
Trip stepped back from the bed and watched Phlox and his team swarmed around the Captain.
"Commander, I'm going to have to ask you to wait outside." Trip heard Phlox say. Trip shifted his gaze to T'Pol who was still clutching the Captain's hand.
"Strange," Trip thought, "She hates physical contact." Trip stepped up and put a hand on T'Pol's shoulder.
"T'Pol," he said gently. T'Pol tried to resist, but Trip pulled her around to face him.
"It would be better if you gave the Doctor some room to work." It took a few moments for the words to make sense. She nodded slowly.
"Come on. Why don't you get cleaned up. Then I'll buy you your favorite cup of tea."
Trip put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her towards the door. He noticed that she did not flinch away from his touch as she normally would. Instead, she seemed to be in a daze as she let him lead her out of the room.
What happened down there? It must have been pretty bad for the Captain to be in such rough shape. He usually had a high tolerance for desert climates, Trip wondered.
T'Pol offered no explanation. She normally was a woman of few words, but as he walked her back to her cabin she was exceptionally quiet.
"Are you OK?"
"I'm fine."
"Can I get you anything?"
"No."
"What happened down there? What happened to the Captain?"
"A great deal."
"What happened to the Administrator? I didn't see him anywhere during the last transmission."
"I don't know."
Trip could hear his voice getting louder as his frustration mounted. He had just spent the last three days sticking his neck out. Now he had a right to know what was going on. The stress and worry that had been building up was about to explode when T'Pol turned to look at him. Something in her eyes stopped Trip short. She looked tired and worn like she had not slept in three days. Her face was streaked with dirt, and her uniform was torn in several places. But it was her eyes. They looked as if she had suffered a great wound that ran long and deep. But physically, she seemed to be OK.
"What the hell happened to you?" Trip asked gently.
But T'Pol did not answer. Her eyes simply begged him to understand. Then she disappeared into her cabin. Trip stared at the closed door for a moment. He threw up his hands in frustration as he turned for the bridge.
XXXXXXXXX
The chime caused T'Pol to start. But it was not surprise, but dread which caused this momentary lapse of control. She was not looking forward to facing what was on the other side of the door. Nonetheless, she stoically called out "Enter."
The door hissed aside to reveal her husband, Koss. She made a great effort to compose her face before she turned to greet him.
"It is agreeable to see you," Koss said the traditional greeting in an even, monotone. Only a slight tightening of his jaw betrayed the tension he fought to hide. As T'Pol turned to him, he caught his breath. A large, angry bruise marred her face. Koss had to stop himself from reaching out to her.
Koss had met T'Pol three times prior to that last encounter on Vulcan that had led to their marriage. This was an unusually high number in Vulcan society. Most couples met for the first time on their wedding day. But in Koss and T'Pol's case, their fathers had been good friends, and their families had actually intermingled during the occasional social event.
The first time had been when they were very young children, before they had gained their inner control. Yet, even then it was clear that T'Pol was unusually emotional. Koss had been shocked when T'Pol had cried after falling down and cutting her knee.
Koss remembered the next time he encountered T'Pol. He didn't know which was worst. The scolding he received after T'Pol talked him into helping her steal the desert his Mother had planned to serve, or the stomachache from eating half the dish. But at the time, he could not resist her daring. To his young mind, her reasoning had seemed perfectly logical. He should have known then, that she was trouble.
But it was the third time that had sealed his fate. Although Vulcans suppressed their emotions, they allowed themselves to appreciate beauty. And T'Pol had grown into a graceful, confident young woman of considerable beauty. Even though she barely acknowledged him, he could not take his eyes off of her. But there was also something else. Koss could sense that her emotions were simmering dangerously close to the surface. An impulsiveness and unpredictability that were strangely attractive. Like forbidden fruit.
And so, when he was once again, confronted by her as they stood in her mother's house, he could not let her go. There was the question of tradition and honor. But, it was not unprecedented for betrothed not to join. His family would have found him another mate. In fact, it would have been more logical for him to seek a different mate. After all, T'Pol's mother had fallen into disfavor and T'Pol was blamed for the incident at P'Jem. Yes, he could have found a mate who would bring more honor and prestige to his family. But it was she that he wanted. T'Pol, with her breathtaking beauty, and captivating unpredictability.
All of these thoughts flashed through Koss's mind as he stood in Captain Archer's ready room, staring at her.
"Captain Archer asked me to express his gratitude. He wouldn't have succeeded without your transporter codes," he heard T'Pol say. But he also heard the small lie in the statement. He knew that Archer was in a coma. It was T'Pol who wanted to thank him. This small sign of gratitude momentarily made him doubt his course.
"The Captain told me you were in danger. I would have not been a very good husband if I did not help." But the moment the words left his lips, he immediately regretted them.
"I'm not certain when I will be able return. I'm aware that I promised your family that we would eventually live together."
But her statement was unnecessary. The look of rejection in her eyes was enough to give him back his resolve.
"That's not why I've come. I am releasing you from our marriage." He had no desire to endure those looks any more. "I know you only bonded with me to help your Mother. She is gone now. There is no reason for us to continue."
"You don't have to do this."
"I know," he said simply. Though the words were what he hoped to hear, the relief in her eyes made him look away. He turned to leave.
"Koss," T'Pol did not know what to say.
The universe around her seemed to tilt. Suddenly she saw Koss for what he was. Instead of a symbol of an oppressive Vulcan tradition, she saw him now as simply a man. A compassionate man who was willing to put her wants before his.
"Goodbye T'Pol."
As the door slid closed behind him, the shock gave way to shame. Koss was a kind and gentle man, and she had treated him poorly. Why did it have to be like this? She had never wanted to hurt him. All she wanted to do was stay on Enterprise.
But then she fought her feelings back. Yes, she had acted badly. But, this was the logical choice. Now he could find a proper wife who would give him a traditional family, she told herself.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Trip reached over and switched off the monitor. He blew out a breath through puffed cheeks, and ran his hand through his hair. He had just finished a very uncomfortable conversation with Admiral Gardner. Actually, it was mostly a one sided conversation punctuated with a lot of "Yes, Sir's" on Trip's part.
"He didn't even let me tell my side of the story!" Trip fumed. "He's like a talking head for the Vulcan High Command!" Trip got up and started pacing. "Maybe when the Captain is back on his feet, he can talk to Admiral Gardner," Trip thought. He stopped in his tracks and glanced at the chronometer. Phlox seemed to be taking a long time. Trip wondered how his friend was doing. It looked like heat stroke. Trip shuddered at the memory of his own bout with it. If the Captain had not been there to force-feed him that rancid water, he probably won't have made it.
Walking into Sickbay, Trip made his way to the Captain's bed. As he pulled the curtain aside, he was surprised to see T'Pol speaking quietly to Dr. Phlox.
"How is he doing?" he asked, a little annoyed that Phlox was updating T'Pol without him.
"I have stabilized him. He is suffering from severe dehydration and heat stroke. But I have brought his body temperature down to a safe level."
As Trip listened, he could see that the Captain was no longer lying in the thermo chamber. But he was still unconscious. Trip sensed that the Captain was not out of danger.
"However," Phlox continued, "he has also suffered massive neurological trauma. The damage is proving very difficult to treat. His condition is continuing to deteriorate. "
It took a few moments for Phlox's words to sink in.
"Neurological trauma? What the hell happened down there?" Trip demanded.
Phlox hesitated and then said, "T'Pol tells me that he is carrying Surak's…"katra".
"Katra? What is that?" Trip asked.
He watched as Phlox glanced at T'Pol and as T'Pol looked away. Was that embarrassment in T'Pol's face?
"Some Vulcans believe that the… "essence" of a Vulcan's mind can be preserved after death in the form of a katra," T'Pol answered. "It appears that Syrin transferred Surak's katra to the Captain just before Syrin died."
"Hold on! Are you trying to tell me that the Captain has the mind of a dead guy in his head?" Disbelief was written all over Trip's face.
T'Pol glanced at Dr. Phlox and then back at Trip. She nodded hesitantly.
"And you believe this?" Trip demanded of Dr. Phlox.
Dr. Phlox looked uncomfortable. "I don't know what to believe! But my scans show highly unusual brain activity. It is almost as if there are two sets of brain patterns," he said pointing to the screen over Archer's bed.
Trip stared at the screen in confusion.
"It doesn't matter what I believe, the reality is that the Captain's condition continues to worsen. I need to find away to treat this "katra" before it kills him," said Phlox, his voice rising with frustration.
"T'Pau said that there are priests on Vulcan who are experienced with the transferring of katras," said T'Pol.
"Well, let's get one up here and get this thing out of the Captain!" demanded Trip.
T'Pol hesitated before continuing. "T'Pau attempted to removed the katra once before. It was this attempt that resulted in the neurological trauma."
"Great! So, are you saying that if we attempt to remove the katra we could kill him. But if we don't, he could die?" Panic rose in Trip's voice.
T'Pol fixed Trip's gaze. "It was T'Pau's first attempt at the procedure. I believe that an experienced Priest will be more successful. I recommend we try."
Trip looked at Phlox for his opinion. Phlox glanced at T'Pol and then reluctantly nodded. "We need to act quickly and there appears to be no other option."
Trip waited anxiously outside of Sickbay. There was quite a crowd assembled, but Trip was the only one who appeared agitated. Trip glanced up at the Priest's two aids. They were standing down the hall a couple of feet. In front of them were Soval and T'Pau who had insisted on accompanying the Priest to Enterprise. All four of the Vulcans were standing absolutely still. Their faces were completely impassive as they waited with what seemed to Trip, infinite patience. Even the two Enterprise security guards who had guided the delegation to Sickbay were standing quietly at attention. The calm of the group only served to make Trip feel more agitated. Dr. Phlox had insisted that everyone wait outside. He did not want a crowd of people to disturb the delicate procedure. The only other person he had allowed in was T'Pol, and that was only because he needed a translator.
Finally, the door slid open with a hiss. The Priest stepped out. To Trip, the priest appeared to be a thousand years old. "Just how long do Vulcans live?" thought Trip. Soval and T'Pau bowed slightly and addressed the Priest in Vulcan. The Priest answered with just a few short words. Soval and T'Pau moved aside and the Priest started down the hallway. His two aids and one of the Enterprise crewmen fell in step behind him.
Trip looked at the two remaining Vulcans questioningly. "Well?" he could barely contain his concern.
"He has the katra," Soval answered.
"Good." Trip said as he turned and entered the Sickbay. "I guess."
Dr. Phlox stopped them at the door.
"How is he? Is he going to be alright?' Trip asked anxiously.
"It appears that the Priest is skilled in this procedure," Phlox said glancing at T'Pau. T'Pau did not reply. "The Captain is recovering nicely."
Trip blew out the breath that he did not realize he was holding.
"May we speak with him?" asked Soval.
Phlox held up his hand. "The Captain is resting now. It will take some time for him to recover from the physical and mental trauma."
"Soval," a horse whisper caused the group to turn towards the Archer's bed. Phlox drew the curtain aside. Archer was lying in a semi reclined position. His eyes were only half open, and it was obvious that he was still very weak. A part of Trip's mind was surprised to see T'Pol standing beside him with her hand protectively on his shoulder. Something akin to jealously tickled the back of his mind, but his full attention was on the Captain.
"Captain.." Phlox started to scold him.
"It's OK. I want to talk to them," Archer said weakly.
"How do you feel Captain?" asked Soval.
Archer closed his eyes tiredly. Then he opened them to answer, "Like a giant weight has been lifted."
Soval and T'Pau glanced at each other in satisfaction.
"Word has already spread of the discovery. It may take years to translate all of the writings," said T'Pau.
"The people of Vulcan are in your debt," said Soval.
"You may be witnessing the start of a new era. Not only for Vulcan, but for Earth as well," said T'Pau.
Archer looked questioningly at Soval.
"The Minister intends to pursue a less aggressive policy towards your people. The High Command will be dissolved," said Soval.
"You will no longer have us looking over your shoulder," continued T'Pau. "It is time for Earth to stand on its own."
Archer closed his eyes, but there was a small smile on his face. "We're ready," he whispered softly.