T'Pol got up the next morning and prepared to meet the council. Although it was early, she meditated and then prepared a light meal. As she ate, she realized she craved salt water. It was a strange thing to want and yet despite her better thoughts, she added a spice that tasted somewhat like salt to her water and licked her lips after drinking.
Delicious.
The meditation made her feel better than the night before, tired. She had attributed her dizziness and fatigue to the higher gravity of Vulcan, something she had not experienced in some time. Yet this morning, with one of the suns already rising, she felt better.
I am becoming used to the warmer climate and gravity.
Skon chimed a gong outside of her family's home and she welcomed him in. They spoke briefly about trivial matters – something Vulcans rarely did – and then he hesitantly spoke to her.
"My sister has requested I not come this morning," he said.
"Why?" T'Pol asked. She craved more salt.
"Unknown."
T'Pol went over to pour more water and add the t'luk spice to it, something that caused Skon's eyebrow to raise. Drinking more, she then listened to Skon tell her to be careful.
"The change in plans – it is unlike my sister," Skon said.
They discussed the argument again she would use for a few moments and then he walked her to the flitter. Quickly, she took off for the capital. On arriving, guards met her rather than musicians ringing tinny bells and took her to the minister's office. Before T'Pol had a chance to question T'Pau, she turned to them.
"Remain on the other side of this room. I will speak with T'Pol in private for now," T'Pau said.
The guards did as she asked and once the door closed, T'Pol asked with confusion, "Where are the other ministers?"
T'Pau put her hands behind her back. "I conduct a bio-scan of everyone who enters the capital. I want to be sure they are who they say they are. Using your medical records, I – myself – compared the data before you left Vulcan and now."
T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "You do this because of the Sundred?"
T'Pau provided the evidence herself on a PADD. T'Pol had seen her medical records before and wanted to frown due to them. Despite the many years, there were traces of trellium still in her bloodstream. But that wasn't what startled her. She noted there was a peculiar amount of iron in her system. That she hadn't seen before, not that she had ever had that particular metal examined.
"Are you Vulcan or you one of the Sundred?" T'Pau asked.
"I am not a Romulan," T'Pol explained.
"Then what is the explanation you have for this reading?" T'Pau asked.
"Why iron?" T'Pol asked.
The minister walked with her hands behind her back. "Traitors we have caught had increased iron in their bloodstream. I believe this is a telltale sign of the Sundred."
"I lived on Earth, where there is iron."
The minister sat down and watched T'Pol. "I have considered that as well as other reasons." The woman paused for a moment and then asked, "I understand this is private and I do not ask lightly – have you felt the fires recently?"
T'Pol bristled. "We do not speak of this."
T'Pau retorted, "These are unusual circumstances." Again her minister watched her. "I will take that as you have. And yet you survived without being on Vulcan."
"You believe I'm a Romulan?" T'Pol asked.
"You are more emotional than many Vulcans, T'Pol. I have wondered in the past …."
"And this is why I'm guarded?" T'Pol asked. "You had no right to take my bio-scans."
"We must take precautions. You know that. But that is not why I talk with you now alone." The minister slid her finger across the screen to another scan, one that made T'Pol shoot out of her chair.
"You did not know?" T'Pau asked.
The results were surprising and yet she should've known – the reason that her Pon Farr had ended early, why she had felt dizzy on Vulcan and now why she had more than just trace elements of iron in her system. T'Pol read the scan several times over, but the evidence was there, plain for all to see.
"Your fires were successful," Minister T'Pau said quietly. "You will have offspring."
T'Pol read the information multiple times as the minister continued. "I take it this child belongs to Admiral Archer? Otherwise, if it belongs to my brother …."
"It's Jonathan's," T'Pol confirmed. "We're bonded now."
"This puts us in a precarious position," Minister T'Pau said. "Your blood, your katra – they are tainted. I would have preferred you were a Romulan and were unaware."
"Tainted?" T'Pol asked, stuck on the word.
"Your thoughts are not your own. Archer influences what you think. He shares your katra. He shares your blood."
T'Pol felt her eyebrow flicker in anger. "Jonathan assisted in helping us retrieve the Kir'Shara. He's been a friend to Vulcan."
"He is an off-worlder," T'Pau said.
"Surak used his katra. Perhaps he is an off-worlder, but he's one even Surak trusted."
"That was when Surak had no choice."
T'Pol responded, "When I touch his mind, remnants of Surak remain. You know – you've touched his mind as well."
T'Pau took a deep breath and stood from her chair to look outside at the mountains. T'Pol joined her there as the Vulcan leader remained silent. With PADD in hand, T'Pol read the information again. The outline of a child was there, one too old to have formed in the fires of Pon Farr approximately a week ago. In fact, this child looked anywhere from three to five earth months old. Unconsciously, she felt at her midsection. Although it was thicker, she didn't know her belly held a child.
It was possible she was with child earlier, before she entered Pon Farr. It could've been conceived before Archer left for the front. Maybe this is what helped them form a bond. Why hadn't she seen known this sooner, though?
Why would I enter Pon Farr if I was already carrying his offspring?
So many questions and she found she was thirsty again. Also through her bond, she could tell her concerns stirred Jonathan's thoughts. Although she knew she would talk with him, she decided it would be later, when she understood the info better herself.
"You're certain these scans are valid?" T'Pol asked.
"I took them myself," T'Pau agreed.
It was new territory for T'Pol and she doubted the science academy had any additional information. The only thing she could hope was Phlox kept his readings from the Expanse, when Lorian was created. Though she wanted to argue her thoughts were hers and that she could still be counted on as the ambassador for Vulcan, she needed to see a physician first. There would be time to argue with T'Pau later.
"May I take these readings with me?" T'Pol asked.
"Of course." T'Pau leaned on her desk as T'Pol headed for the door.
"I still believe I can be impartial, Minister," T'Pol said. "My marriage to—"
"He is Earth's admiral," T'Pau said. "We cannot trust the humans with information about us."
T'Pol wanted to explain she could and had, but that conversation wasn't for right now. She also knew it wouldn't help to tell the minister he'd gone AWOL to help Shran.
"I would like to meditate on this," T'Pol said. "Skon, your brother, can serve in my stead for the meantime."
T'Pau agreed and with that and T'Pol left – guards following her. Her stride was faster as she left the office nearly running to her flitter. The ride home too was quick as she thought about the ramifications of her relationship with Jonathan.
As soon as she returned home, she grabbed a scanner from her suitcase and ran it over her body. Like the scans T'Pau had surreptitiously taken, it showed she was pregnant – although it had difficulty pinpointing how old the fetus was inside of her.
She'd go to an imaging chamber later. For now, she contacted Phlox even though she could feel her bondmate poke and prod, concerned. Still, she needed to understand what this meant. Luckily, Phlox was still at the station. When he came up on the view screen, she could see his surprise. The doctor jerked his head and extended a smile.
"Ambassador, what do I owe this privilege?" he asked.
T'Pol took an unsteady breath. "I need someone I can trust to review some of my bio-scans for me. I find the results … unusual."
"Oh?" the Denobulan asked. "I'd be happy to review them."
With a few strokes of her fingers, the file was sent to him and he seemed to get the scans, reading them. His head twitched more than usual.
"I suppose congratulations are in order!" he hummed merrily.
"Vulcans typically release their eggs during the mating cycle. But according to these scans—"
"Yes, you've been with child for some time. I see that." He paused, his overextended smile beginning to fade. "You don't think the results are accurate?"
"As I said it would be … unusual."
"I can validate this information. Have you talked with the admiral?"
A long sigh left her lips one that sounded very human even to her ears. She'd kept the information from him so far – her mind hoping to understand this before discussing with her husband. They'd had a discussion about children, but it didn't seem like he was overly interested. In fact, she'd recalled him saying he'd be in his seventies by the time her child entered college. At the time she didn't want to refute him indicating that Vulcan children enter college later.
Dr. Phlox's said, "Well, I know you'll tell him soon. Whether these are accurate or not."
"Yes." She then voiced another worry – if the results were accurate, her body would have difficulty bringing a half-human child to term. "Do you have Lorian's data – the child Commander Tucker and I apparently had in the Expanse?"
"I gave this information the Vulcan Science Directorate as well as Starfleet," he said. "It was in case Vulcans and humans ever mated."
She swallowed deeply.
"It was before I knew of you and Admiral Archer," Phlox said. The corners of his mouth perked.
He went on to talk about how fascinating it was to watch her and the admiral begin the Pon Farr mating ritual, saying as a doctor he'd been wanting to study that for some time.
T'Pol never reviewed the information about Lorian herself. At the time annoyed and embarrassed that another version of herself mated with Commander Tucker. Looking back the Vulcan understood it was more embarrassment than an annoyance; it felt odd to want a relationship with a human … something she'd come to terms with now.
Being on Vulcan, with higher gravity and a hotter climate, was definitely not going to help the half-human child. Nor was a long journey back to Earth.
Perhaps why I've been craving salt water.
Phlox must've sensed her worry, but he dropped his voice. "I'll get back to you as quickly as possible, T'Pol."
"Thank you," she said.
And then the screen faded to black. Thudding into the seat behind her, she completely forgot about Coridan and Skon. No doubt he would come over to question her. For now, she focused on the life growing inside of her. According to the scans, there was already information about the gender, too.
A boy.
La'lon. The heart of the Andorian Empire, what Jon Archer had read was an Eden of sorts. The imperial city, named after the spring at its base – enjoyed plumes rising into the colder air and exotic flowers in pink, purple and gold. Golden pollen from the flowers drifted along like fireflies at dusk, shimmering in the moonlight.
The palace itself shot into the heavens with spires twisting gracefully into the clouds. It looked to be made of ice, although Archer couldn't fathom that to be true. The climate was nearly as warm as a brisk New York winter – warmer than any place on Andoria. He figured surely such material would melt there and yet the building sparkled, shimmering like sunlight on the water as if made of ice.
It was beautiful and magical.
Jon had read enough about Andorian customs to know what was expected. He was to wait until spoken to and the queen seemed content to gaze out onto her city without speaking to him or anyone else. It was hardly what he'd experienced from any other Andorian – a significant lack of patience.
When the flitter stopped at the palace gates, musicians playing instruments that sounded like wind chimes met them. They were soothing and immediately the tiredness and even dizziness that Archer had been fighting – what he'd chalked up to altitude and a cold climate – eased.
The queen's Amazonian warriors, members of the elite imperial guard known as the Alok'ka-ty - the Handmaids – encircled their ruler to protect her even as they guided Archer through the inner sanctum. There, antiquities of wood and leather lined the entrance making the queen's home seem rich as well as opulent. A guard made a motion for him to sit in one and immediately he felt relaxed.
Speaking in nearly perfect English, one of the handmaids discussed a list of decorum he was expected to adhere to while with the queen. Among them were things like he could look on her if invited, must eat whatever she gave him and drink the blessed waters of La'lon if asked, must wear the ceremonial robes of Fetak and must do whatever the queen asked – his voice unraised to show his reverence.
Giving him an animal skin that looked like a long parka, the female explained those were the robes of Fetak.
"Fetak is honored among us, an animal killed to honor peace among clans. Only this animal pelt should touch your skin. Before you wear this, bathe in the blessed waters of La'lon."
She pointed him to a room and when he stepped in there was something that reminded him a Jacuzzi in the middle of the floor where steam rose. The handmaid then left. Thinking back on when Porthos urinated on some trees and the steps he had to go to in order to make up for the dog's offense, he slipped out of his clothes and dipped into the pool. Although there wasn't any soap, Jon managed to bring a few toiletries and used them to wash and clean up. Knowing Andorians didn't grow facial hair, he did his best to trim it now that he was seeing the queen and she knew who he was.
When done, as requested he put on the long parka. It fell to his mid-calf, not quite long enough to keep him warm. Almost as if knowing how long it would take to prepare, the handmaid appeared again.
"The queen would like to see you," the same woman said.
He was led down one hallway to another and finally to a door made of leather.
"You are permitted to enter," the handmaid said.
Archer wondered how she knew and thought about knocking.
"Don't bother," the woman said. "She's expecting you."
Taking a breath, Jon entered and was stunned to see the queen laying on a kidney-shaped bed the size of most people's San Francisco apartment. Again, he was struck by how lovely she was – even for an Andorian. Lighter blue than Shran, but darker than Jhamel, unlike most Andorian females she looked decidedly feminine. Like him, she was dressed in a long pelt, but hers covered everything, but her feet.
Two glasses of brown liquid were poured in ice-like square glasses. The door shut and sounded like it locked behind Archer and he jumped, nervously.
"Lie with me," the queen whispered to him.
He stayed rooted near the door. "Uh, I'm a married man."
She laughed and it tickled his stomach to hear it. "Our soothsayers said you would come to me." Again she asked, "It is custom to do what I ask. Lie down, your Vulcan has nothing to fear."
Raising his brows at her, unsure how across the universe she knew of his bondmate, he carefully did as she asked.
"Drink," she told him. Holding up her glass of brown liquid she nodded for him to do the same.
So he did. It tasted like mud, soupy and unappealing. Amused the woman explained that those were the blessed waters.
It was nothing like the steam bath, Archer thought, recalling the hot tub in his room and the clear water.
"These are fortified with the milk from Ga'rontem."
His translator didn't understand and as if reading his mind, she interrupted his thoughts. She said, "It's a goat-like animal."
"You know a lot about Earth," he said.
"I have studied it," she agreed. "I find other worlds interesting."
Archer said, "I thought Andorians didn't trust off-worlders."
In that, she agreed. "For the most part, we don't. We've had little success with our interactions with off-worlders. Humans, your people, are the first ones we feel like are like us – passionate, kind and honorable. However, I think it best we know more about other cultures. Our world is changing and knowing more about other cultures, even those I don't like, seems wise."
Over the years, Archer had time to meet cultures from various worlds and he found things in common with all of them, from the Klingons to Vulcans. And he agreed with her – the war and events he'd experienced from Vulcan's providing guidance on engineering when he was a child to the Xindi's attack on his planet meant no world could afford to be isolationists.
It's something the Prime Minister, Gardner and several of the admirals were discussing as a set of principles on how to approach planets and other cultures themselves. The entire discussion made him appreciate the Vulcan's approach more – it seemed nearly impossible to make the right decision. The discussion also made him question nearly every decision he'd made aboard Enterprise as its captain.
Rousing Archer from his musings, the queen asked, "You wanted to speak with me about Thy'lek Shran's family to protect them and to tell me Krag is an imposter."
This made Archer sit up with shock. "Yes."
Amused somewhat again, she pushed him down gently. "I am only the queen. I have little power these days."
He thought that even though her role was mostly ceremonial in nature, she commanded a great deal.
"No," she whispered to him.
How does she know what I'm thinking?
A smile spread across her lips and her antennae squirmed a little. "The Aenar are direct descendants of the royal family. Many moons ago, their queen had many offspring building a colony there."
He looked into her purple eyes wondering if she could see.
"I can see you. Her inbreeding caused genetic anomalies. One of the royal brothers turned into a zhen and gave birth. That is the Andorians now."
"A zhen?" Archer asked. He knew Tares was one, switching from male to female. The concept, though Shran had explained it to him a few times and Phlox almost giddily explained a few more times, still confused him.
"Yes."
"To enable the race to survive," he said as if understanding. Although from what Phlox said it was difficult for zhen to have children. In fact, he understood that wasn't entirely possible.
"It's not unless she engages two other partners."
Archer wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"Andoria has crucial moments in history – and we are at one junction. Like your mate, I only give birth a few times. The mate who must seed me now is Krag."
This surprised Archer and he shook his head. "I have information he's an Orion."
"Not the one you met, the one in this palace. He is sequestered so I may be impregnated," she said, casually. "The Orions presume our Krag is dead."
"You know Krag – the one I met – is an Orion?" he asked.
"Yes," she agreed.
His head was starting to hurt and he again reached out for T'Pol as if hoping for some guidance. Instead, she seemed busy. "You want the allies to fail?"
"No," she whispered to him. "Ensuring the royal line continues will help not just now, but in the long run."
"Why Krag?"
"His genetic coding is what we need now – strong warriors. Just as my mother knew we needed someone to bring peace with the Vulcans and created me. I was born of a religious man."
This was definitely long-term planning and he remembered that the queens live for much longer than typical Andorians.
He said, "But in the meantime, the Krag I met is sending Andorians to their deaths."
"I don't want Andorians to meet their deaths. I won't hurt Shran either."
He sighed, "But allowing him to continue will …." He furrowed his brow. "You already know he's a traitor. And since you don't want your people to become hurt you're … you're waiting for his next move."
"Keeping Krag safe was important. I also wanted to ensure we understand what the Orion Krag is doing. I don't want Andorians to become hurt, but understanding what he's planning –"
He interrupted her, "Saves more Andorians. On Earth, we've occasionally made the same choices."
He remembered reading that during World War II, code-breakers discovered an attack on a ship before it happened. At the time Churchill decided not to divert the ship hoping to understand the more about what the Nazis had planned. He'd thought about that particular story a lot in the Expanse, wondering exactly how far he'd go to protect and save Earth.
"You understand me," she said nodding.
This seemed like government secrets he shouldn't know – not as an Earthling. Sitting up, she answered him anticipating the question.
"You are known as a man who can be trusted." She paused regarding him. "I also need your help. The Orions must continue to assume Krag is dead and Andorians must regain faith in me."
He waited hoping to glean what exactly she had in mind.
"I would like to start new rumors."
During their conversation, Jon felt T'Pol's concern about something, but was unable to discern what that issue was. Prodding his bond, he felt her eschew his worry as she sought solace. Although he remained worried, he thought whatever it was, she wanted to work through it first. So he allowed her to do so even as he spoke with the queen.
The queen said the statement again, this time capturing his attention. "I would like to start rumors."
"Rumors?"
"I want the Orions to know we're meeting, but want them to believe it's for other reasons." She put the glass with brown liquid aside. "I want my people to think you're the next father."
Sitting up, he swallowed. "I'm a married man and an off-worlder."
"An off-worlder who has been touched in some capacity by many worlds - the warrior Klingons," she said touching his forehead. "As well as the logical Vulcans." A smile spread across her lips. "And by serving me, you will be doing a great service to Andoria – the humans will only gain gratitude. And it may help our species be more open to off-worlders as well."
He backed away again. "I'm married."
She laughed. "At this time, our species are incompatible. But your assistance may help with that one day as well. And as I explained, Krag is serving me privately in that capacity. There is a high likelihood I would have children soon."
"Soon?" he asked.
She smiled. "I should know within the month whether Krag was successful. Until then, you can be my guest. It will only help … rumors."
"To speak with you as the arat, I've gone AWOL from Starfleet," he said. "My public—"
"Should help you as well. I know Shran and you have discussed dilithium crystals. Krag has learned more about this energy source – my Krag that is."
Putting a hand through his hair, he thought he'd have to warn his wife when she was ready to talk. And for some reason, goose bumps formed along his arms knowing she had something important to discuss soon. Although he again poked at their bond, he was met with eerie silence.
The queen agreed, "Think about it. Talk with your mate. It seems this arrangement can only benefit us both."
The one thing that bothered him was what happened if Krag was unsuccessful. For some reason, he had the feeling he may be called for more than rumors, even if research hadn't been completed on Andorian human mating. And yet, she was right – if he was able to bring the dilithium crystal information to the Earth Prime Minister, him abandoning his post may be forgiven.
But I'm married and T'Pol would have difficulty forgiving me.
The handmaids walked Archer back to an opulent room filled with leather tapestries. His wife urged that now might be a good time to talk. He had the feeling he needed to brace himself.
Neville Simon had set Gral and Shran up in the Castro District. Neville had contacted the Prime Minister to sit down the two outlaws himself. Ensuring both were set up with reasonable accommodations, Neville the left complaining it was two a.m.
It was when Gral usually ended his fourth nap to watch CSPAN – a channel where people argued all day at each other and when Shran liked to come home from bars. Grab growled a yawn as Shran poked the bed with his finger.
"I feel guilty being in such cool climes while my family sweats their antennae off," Shran said.
Gral poked at the screen in their room mumbling he wanted to see people argue as it relaxed him. Finally seeing two people bellow – Judge Rodney – he sighed in satisfaction and folded his hands over his rotund belly.
"Ah. You can always count on the humans to yell at each other," Gral said. He kicked back further and watched the screen feeling sleepy.
"We meet with the Prime Minister tomorrow," Shran said. "What if he sends me back to Andoria?"
Gral pointed a slender finer at the screen. "Please, people are arguing."
"I won't bring Jhamel, Tallah, or Shras. Maybe I can send word and they can re-start their lives without me." He paused only for a minute taking the blade out of his shorts to sharpen it. "If they try to take my family, I'll split them in two."
Gral grunted annoyed. "We'll talk about this when people aren't arguing." He caught a glimpse of Trerog's emotional delay, masterfully done, as the young human in question began to cry. Shaking his head, Gral hoped the judge would see beyond such a paltry response. Trerog's emotional delay was typically for junior arguers.
Shran continued to mumble to himself and Gral knew he wouldn't get a moment to relax, so turned off the arguing. Snorting, he looked over at Shran.
"You could always appeal to the queen," he said.
"This is her mating time. She seems few visitors and makes few public appearances. And this queen has had few mates in her bed with even fewer offspring, all dead. If she doesn't fulfill her duty soon, some are thinking she'll become chan and that her brother will take her place," he said. Quietly, he admitted, "That hasn't happened for a while."
Gral snorted. The Andorian genders were confusing and their mating practices more so. Tellar ones were much more civilized with couples rolling in mud before mating, producing pups. Yet, Gral wondered if this was fueling unrest among the Andorians.
Gral said, "You said rumors of civil war have spread."
Shran sighed. "When the queen is mostly barren, there is always rumors of civil war – those who don't believe we should have a queen."
Shran's PADD beeped and he went over to view it. Gral peered over his shoulder. On a page that seemed like their local news, sent directly to his PADD, there was an image of a hairy off-worlder on Andoria who was escorted by the queen and her demon warriors, what Tellarites called the wang-do – the death females. Shran sat up and wondered aloud whether the queen had decided to mate with an off-worlder.
"If she did, after they're tyla-tora, she'll probably eat him," Shran said. "Good Grendal, that poor darp'nig is done for," he said. "Although maybe I should hope he's prolific."
"If she mates with an off-worlder, wouldn't your species change?" Gral asked, confused.
"Rumor has it the royal family has only mated with off-worlders twice before. But I suppose it was a different time."
He seemed about to power down his device when Gral took a gander at the human Shran had called out. Something about this particular poor human seemed familiar and he squealed.
"Blue, that's Archer!"
Shran grabbed his device and looked down at it. "Hairy tarpig! That is the Pink Skin!"
"He's her mate?" Gral asked. "Poor Skinny."
Shran shook his head. "What in the Gravnik is he doing on Andor? That's my queen. If anyone should be serving her, it should be one of us - like me."
"You already have a wife," Gral said.
"He should be married to the Vulcan," Shran said. Reluctantly, he said her name although Gral swore it was with friendly affection. "T'Pol."
"Maybe she and her aide are together?" Gral asked. It seemed absurd, but Shran was convinced it could happen.
"Skip seems like he would try it. I'd contact her, but I'm concerned Krag would find out my location."
Gral shrugged to Shran. "Tellar bureaucrats would take years attempting to locate my signal. Do you think she made it to Vulcan?"
Shran agreed, "Most likely." He paused. "Krag might tap into Tellar devices to locate us, knowing we're together."
"I wish we could contact Archer or Skinny," Gral said.
Shran said, "She may devour him after they mate, but … what a way to go!"
The two were quieter, Gral guessing both wished they could contact T'Pol. Knowing Krag would track Shran down, he turned back on the vid-screen. The judge in question was yelling at someone in his court and Gral put his hands behind his head to relax, feeling sleep overcome him.
Shran washed his face, his antennae and then got into a bad next to Gral's. The blue man leaned over. "Don't snore or I'll cut the snout off your beady head."
Swearing under his breath, Gral called his Andorian friend a blue demon. "Don't get your antennae in a twist."
Soon Shran was asleep and after another hour or so, Gral turned off the vid screen. The little pig splashed cool water on his face and then headed to bed. Staring up at the ceiling he wondered why the devil Archer decided to mate with the Andorian queen and suspected a good story – one he hoped they could discuss over ale.
With that, he ran through arguments for tomorrow with the Prime Minister.
T'Pol had heard the human phrase: time to face the music. Taking a few cleansing breaths, she turned on her video screen and despite the fact she knew Starfleet may find him, albeit a small risk, she contacted her husband. This needed both their bond and some discussion.
As the video screen fizzled on, Archer smiled at her. Reading her thoughts, he told her, "I'm jamming the signal."
Rubbing her fingers together she blinked a few times. "How was your trip?"
He furrowed his brow. "Bumpy. But I'm staying at the palace. There's a lot to say there, but –"
T'Pol leaned in. "You're staying at the palace?"
"Yes."
"That is … that is unheard of."
He shrugged. "She said she wanted her people to believe there would be offspring …. It's a long story."
"By publicizing your existence, Starfleet will find you."
Archer shrugged, "It'll take a while." He grinned and then it waned. "Honey, I can tell something's bothering you. What's up?"
"T'Pau conducted a scan of me – something she did without my knowing. It's part of new security protocols."
Jonathan said what she was thinking, "Seems like an invasion of privacy. You're concerned about the trellium?"
She wasn't, but she hung her head. "I'm having my scans reviewed by Dr. Phlox."
"Look, I can talk with T'Pau about—"
"Jonathan, the scans indicate I'm with child."
He was quiet and then leaned closer to the monitor as if he hadn't heard correctly. She shook her head at him. "You heard correctly. The scans prove I'm going to have offspring."
The comment forced Archer to sit back and stare blankly at the screen. "We're going to be parents," he finally said, a grin forming. "I can't believe it."
"There are risks—"
He put a hand through his hair and seemed happier still. "I can't believe it."
"There are abnormalities," she said.
This seemed to cause him to wince. "You're all right?"
"As far as I know. Dr. Phlox is reviewing my scans and I'll attempt to visit an imaging chamber while on Vulcan."
This caused him to furrow his brow and nod. She explained being on Vulcan was not ideal – that the higher gravity would be problematic. She discussed how the scans looked much older than she would've expected. And she provided realistic views on why this child would most likely never be birthed at term. Still, her husband remained enthusiastically optimistic through all of it.
"I'm not worried I'm too old. I'm just happy – assuming you're okay. You're are, right?" Jon asked.
"As far as I know," she said, more stoically than intended.
Her husband let out a breath. "All right." He leaned back in his chair and then said, "Well, this changes things doesn't it?"
"Yes," she said. She explained how T'Pau had told her she couldn't be trusted because of her association with Archer. He frowned in response and they talked about how that was already disproven.
After a few minutes, he clarified, "That's all true, but that's not what I meant. I suppose it'd be good to have an official ceremony sooner."
Through the bond, she knew that it was important to him the world knew it was his. He also started to talk through how maybe it was time for one of them to cut their careers short and focus on the family. As long as he wasn't in leg irons for being going AWOL, he said he'd done most of the things he'd wanted to do and could stay home with their child … even on Vulcan.
The turn of the conversation was interesting. T'Pol hadn't exactly expected this from her bondmate, but as he spoke, she shouldn't have been surprised. Family was important to him – his own father looming large in his memory. That was showing now in what he said and did.
As the conversation went on and began drawing to a close, her husband told her that she should take it easy and contact him the second anything happened or she knew more information. He also said he'd try to wrap things up with the queen sooner, if possible.
It was hard to end the contact and both of them talked about how they missed the other, even if it was only a short period of time. Jonathan touched the video screen and whispered to it.
"I love you."
"Adun," she returned.
She sat back thinking about what happened next wondering if Jonathan would be content to be only a father as she served as a diplomat. The fact he said he'd be willing to live on Vulcan made her stomach tickle. She never would've hypothesized it years ago when they first met.
Slowly, she decided to meditate to ruminate on how things had changed, including her own life, in expected ways.