—Chapter 11—
There was no practical way to conceal the approach of an entire fleet from the Xindi, so the Border Fleet set course directly and expeditiously for the Xindi homeworld, by continually interspersing vortex jumps with normal warp speed drive flight, and at the end of the twenty-two days, the Border Fleet dropped out of warp to stand on the outskirts of the Xindi system. It was fairly unremarkable as such things went, with a Class F White Star which burned a bit hotter and brighter than the Class G Yellow Star of the Sol system, which Earth orbited. This star held six planets in its orbit, and the Xindi had chosen the fourth planet, an L Class Marginal planet, 18,090km diameter, rocky, barren, hot, and dry. A dump by Human standards, a veritable paradise where the Reptilian and Insectoid races of the Xindi species were concerned.
A paradise apparently worth fighting for as far as the Xindi were concerned, for a combined Xindi fleet of Reptilian and Insectoid ships awaited the Border Fleet at the edge of the solar system, some two billion kilometers beyond the orbit of the 6th planet. There were no overtures of peace or offers of negotiations from either side, and the Border Fleet spread out horizontally, to match the length of the Xindi fleet, if not the height or depth, for the Xindi fleet outnumbered the Human by a factor of five to one.
Shran commanded this battle, for this truly was a do or die situation, and the focus and aggression of the Imperial Guards fit the requirements of this battle like hand in glove, while Trip would be more useful in his role as a psion. Of the Human psions, only the five high level telepaths, Trip among them, and the three so called Mind Swords, Malcolm among them, would be able to affect this battle in any way, for the lesser psions could not project enough psychic force to affect such large scale engagements.
These eight psions stood on the Bridge of the Athena, Trip and Malcolm having given command of their ships to their executive officers for the duration of this battle, that they might cause more damage to the Xindi using their psionic talents. All other StarFleet and Andorian personnel were at their accustomed stations, while the thousands of MACO soldiers under the command of Colonel Hayes were armed to the teeth and spread throughout the ships, ready to repel Xindi boarders if necessary.
The battle was joined without delay, as the five telepaths focused on triggering the fight instinct of the Reptilians, while channeling that instinct towards other Reptilians. It was not a difficult thing to do, since the Reptilians had always seen the others of their kind as their fiercest competitors for rank and power. They opened fire on other Reptilian ships, while the Border Fleet focused their attentions on the Insectoid ships, as the minds of the Insectoids were alien enough to make psionic contact less effective, on top of which, the Insectoids could not be turned against each other, as could the Reptilians, due to their love for the other.
The effects of this first use of psionic power against the Xindi were devastating, but gradually, the officers aboard the Reptilian ships regained some semblance of control, and strove to impose that control on their subordinates, but just as they were beginning to make some progress, Reptilian crewman started killing Reptilian crewman, as the Mind Swords incited hundreds of acts of calculated homicide in the most susceptible of Reptilians through their mental commands, and by the end of it, the cohesion of the Reptilians was shattered, which was only made worse when the five psions attacked the Reptilians once more, this time with hallucinations of pain and madness, and then, once more by triggering their fear and flight instinct to such a degree that many Reptilians were virtually paralyzed by fear. Three StarFleet squadrons broke off from their engagement with the Insectoids on Shran's orders, to come deliver killing blows to all but helpless Reptilian battlecruisers.
This entire time, the Helmsman of the Athena had kept the ship in motion, while studiously avoiding front line combat, and five Insectoid ships noted that fact, and joined in a kamikaze attack on the Athena. The first ship missed the Athena, and was fired upon by Commander Hanshiro as the two passed each other. The Insectoid ship spun out of control and into a StarFleet frigate, destroying them both. The next two were fired upon, and destroyed on their way in, by other frigates, while the Dauntless deliberately placed itself between the fourth ship and the Xindi, firing the entire time, however the Insectoid ship was not destroyed, and plowed into the Dauntless, taking half the ship with it in a fiery explosion, while the other half of the Dauntless spun off into space, the screams of hundreds of crewmen reverberating through the Comm units of the Border Fleet. There was no time to aid them now. The Athena maneuvered for room in which to engage the last Xindi ship, and eventually won that contest, at the cost of a dozen injuries and a few deaths.
Two of the psions were exhausted now, but the three Mind Swords and the other two psions repeated their attack patterns against the Reptilians, aided now in causing havoc and destruction among the Xindi Reptilians by three more StarFleet squadrons which Shran had ordered into battle against them. Trip, the only psion who had managed to penetrate the Insectoid mind, did so now, in order to aid Shran. The Insectoids felt him in their collective, and hissed and screamed their displeasure into his mind, trying to dislodge him from the collective, while he fed crippling thoughts of death and fear into the Insectoid collective.
Six hours into the battle, every psion was exhausted and all but useless, and the Border Fleet was badly bloodied, having lost sixty-one ships, while the Andorians lost twenty-four battle cruisers. But if the Border Fleet was bloodied, the Xindi Fleet was done for, as a cohesive fighting force, and it was here that the Xindi had a last surprise for humanity, for they lifted off planet in ships, and took the ships already in orbit, past the event horizon of the black hole, only to eventually be drawn into the heart of the black hole, as the Border Fleet watched in silence.
"Good riddance," said Malcolm, but T'Pol merely looked thoughtful.
"What?" said Trip, taking note of T'Pol's look.
"It is fascinating," said T'Pol. "The research indicates that black holes may well be portals into other universes, and the Xindi, given the knowledge the Guardians shared with them, may also know this to be true."
"You mean we'll have to worry about them coming back, Captain?" said Jemez, the Athena's XO.
"No, Commander," said T'Pol. "It would take them billions and billions of years at high warp speed to return, which essentially means that they will never return. If the theory is correct, and if they still live, they will have whole new worlds to conquer, far from Humans, Guardians, and the other Xindi races. They are on their own now, to sink or float."
The return of the Border Fleet was greeted with great celebration by Earth, and subdued acceptance by the Xindi Arboreals, Aquatics and Primates, who considered their brethren's fate deserved, if tragic… These three Xindi species joined the fledgling organization, named the Federation, an idea brought forth by Admiral Archer as a way to avoid future tragedies, such as took place between the Xindi and humanity. Fellow signatories to the Federation charter were the Andorians, Vulcans and Tellarites, and there was great hope that it would, in time, encompass hundreds, or even thousands of allied species under its banner.
In light of the Border Fleet's victorious conclusion to the Xindi crisis, promotions and commendations were handed out like candy to the survivors, and the fallen were honored by all. The fleet was disbanded, for the still surviving ships needed stringent safety checks and months of repair time, and so the members of the former Border Fleet were given four months off in order to recuperate, before eventually returning to new posts.
Walking through the halls of StarFleet's HQ building, Trip looked at T'Pol and smiled. The Vulcan looked back at him, her face composed, but with the hint of a smile in the corners of her mouth. They'd just spoken to Admiral Forrest and notified the man that they were personally involved, and that they planned to formalize their relationship. They further stated that they would not be separated by distance in the course of their duties and were prepared to tender their resignations if that fact should cause StarFleet to doubt their ability to work together effectively in service of the fleet. Where things would go with StarFleet, neither knew, for Forrest had simply told them that the matter would be discussed by the Admiralty Commission.
"So," said T'Pol, looking intently at Trip, "we have told StarFleet that we would formalize our relationship, Captain Tucker."
Trip nodded, and glanced at his watch.
"By Vulcan custom," said T'Pol, "a union is created when a couple is Bonded, Captain Tucker."
"That's interesting, T'Pol," said Trip. "Isn't it wonderful, the many customs that beings all across the univers—"
"Yes, Captain Tucker," said T'Pol. "It is quite interesting. As I was saying, Vulcans are considered mated when they are Bonded, and you promised me that once this Xindi incident was behind us, you and I would be Bonded."
"I did?" said Trip. "Must be all the excitement. I don't remember saying that."
"Well, I certainly do, Captain Tucker. Quite clearly. I said when, meaning when will you Bond me, and you said, when this is over, meaning the Xindi situation. That situation is now resolved, so I ask again, Captain Tucker. When?"
"Relax, baby, we'll talk about it sometime, there's no hurry," said Trip, "We'll get to it when we get to it, sometime in the future. Probably sometime next year, or the year after, maybe…"
"Excuse me, Mr. Tucker?" said T'Pol, in disbelief, for this man had been subtly pursuing her the entire time they'd known each other, and now this? "You made a promise, and now you claim to have trouble remembering that promise. Explain yourself!"
"Come on, let's get out of here, and begin our vacation, T'Pol," said Trip, turning to lead the way. "I know a shortcut out of here."
T'Pol reached out to hold Trip's arm in order to compel the man to finish their conversation, and with her empath's touch she felt his amusement, and now understood his conduct.
"Oh, come on, Trip!" said T'Pol. "Seriously? You are playing with me!"
Trip smiled, and said, "Yes. Yes, I am."
"It is quite possible that I am about to attempt to murder you now, Captain Tucker! Prepare to defend yourself."
"That would be an illogical act on your part, my little Vulcan friend."
"Special," said T'Pol. "Special Vulcan friend, and just until tonight."
"Oh?"
"Yes, after tonight, I will be your tel'su, your Bondmate."
"You seem quite confident in making such an inflammatory statement, T'Pol."
"Oh, I am," said T'Pol. "We will see the sun rise tomorrow as Bondmates, or you will sleep with the fish, like Luca Brasi."
Trip cracked up at that, for they'd watched The Godfather the night before, and T'Pol had clearly learned the fine art of negotiation from the Corleone family, and the way of making offers which could not be refused. He looked around and determined that the hallway was empty, as T'Pol's Vulcan sense of propriety would not allow blatant public displays of affection, and then Trip leaned in to give T'Pol a quick peck on the lips.
"Well?" said T'Pol, brow raised, for she was too cunning to be distracted by a sweet kisses. "What is your decision?"
"If my choices are a life of bondage," said Trip with a smile, "that is to say, being Bonded to you, or sleeping with the fishes, well, logic dictates that I choose you, and choose life."
"A logical decision, Captain Tucker," said T'Pol, somehow conveying a look of satisfaction, despite an ostensibly neutral look on her face.
"Oh, you're so smug when you win, T'Pol," said Trip. "I already hate you, and we're not even Bonded!"
"Nonsense, Captain. You love me."
From StarFleet's HQ they took a cab to Jon's house where they threw a few things in a duffel bag, before taking a cab to the docks. There, they boarded Trip's classic Back Cove power cruiser, a Downeast 37 model named Kingfish, and cast off from the shore. They spent the next four months cruising down the California coast all the way down the Baja Peninsula of Mexico, being accompanied frequently by pods of dolphins which seemed to take a special delight in showing off for them, and at other times a seal or two, but for T'Pol, the highlight of her encounters with marine life came when they snorkled and swam with the whales. So they swam, and surfed, and T'Pol tanned while Trip fished. They dived to view the beautiful reefs at Cabo Pulmo, they played with frolicking sea lions while admiring the tropical fish at the beautiful Isla Espíritu Santo, and later, at Balandra they admired the majestic manta rays.
Still, not every moment was spent at sea, for they pulled in daily at one of the small villages or towns, where they pigged out on the fine peasant cooking of Mexico, so rich in variety, flavors and spices, and often enough they chose to spend the night in one of the many small charming inns, scattered here and there, rather than the cruiser's bedroom, simply for the novelty of the experience, as every inn was specialized as far as their amenities, such as hot springs bathing at one inn, guided cave diving trips by another inn owner, etc... and lastly, they shopped for a variety of beautiful hand made goods in the traditional markets, and most especially in the town of Todos Santos which was renowned for the quality of its arts and crafts. Trip's prize was a beautiful clay bean pot, useful for cooking much more than just beans, while T'Pol found a heavy silver necklace of abstract design, which T'Les, her mother, was sure to find lovely.
For T'Pol, the hundred or so days they spent in Baja was a magical time, and wonderfully exotic, and when they finally disembarked from the Kingfish, she looked back at the boat fondly, only tearing her eyes from it when she noticed Admiral Archer approaching the boat.
"Look at you two," said Archer, smiling at T'Pol, after a brief hug and back slap with Trip. "You both look great."
And it was true. The wind, the sun and the water had bleached their hair, though it was more noticeable in T'Pol, and their golden tans were magnificent.
"How was the honeymoon?" said Archer.
"It was wonderful, Admiral," said T'Pol.
"She tried to kill me, driven by an insatiable mating lust," said Trip, with a perverted grin.
Archer laughed, while T'Pol frowned.
"We do not joke of such things, Captain Tucker," said T'Pol.
"Maybe you don't," said Trip. "I do."
T'Pol sighed and lowered her head, while Archer laughed at T'Pol's gesture of defeat.
"I see you caught your BlackSand Hawk, T'Pol," said Archer, who had seen the way things would shake out between Trip and T'Pol in his vision.
"No, your prediction was accurate, Admiral," said T'Pol. "It was he that captured me, years ago, though I did not realize that fact until I awoke from my coma."
"And did he put an end to you?" said Archer, recalling the entirety of his prediction.
T'Pol reflected on the Admiral's question. For the longest time, frankly for her entire life, she had always walled herself off from life, always keeping others at arm's length, and although her professional life had prospered, her personal life was largely confined to her mother, and a few members of clan, and the result of that had been a personal life lived in a self-imposed isolation bubble of sorts, and stagnation on that front, but now, her logical affection for her tel'su and the momentous alteration of her emotional life caused by the Bond caused T'Pol to cast caution to the winds, and contemplate a life outside her little bubble, and she dared hope now that one day, she and Trip would make use of the knowledge of combining Vulcan and Human DNA, to begin a family of their own.
"That he did, Admiral," said T'Pol. "That he did."
.
—o—
*In the interests of fair play, I will confess that the line 'Explain yourself!' which T'Pol directs at Trip, was shamelessly stolen by me from Bri Wesmoreland, who questioned my literary decisions in a comment. It cracked me up for some reason, so I thought to include it here, after confessing my guilt.