Vahklas
By Blacknblue (aka Bluenblack)
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek. I wrote this for fun. Anyone is free to download and/or redistribute this story as long as you keep it complete and intact, and as long as you don't make any money from it.
Note: Vulcan terms used in this story were taken from the online Vulcan Language Dictionary, the Vulcan Language Institute, or I made them up myself.
A/N: This is another afterthought to my series "The Road Once Traveled". I thought it was done. I really did. But a few snips and bits were still hanging loose, so I scribbled off some scenes to tie them up. Here they are. This is a direct sequel to Kov + Hess . It picks up immediately after the other one stops. I'm afraid this one is going to be a bit longer than the previous story though. Three chapters and I'm just getting started.
This story makes several references to events that took place during earlier stories in my series. In addition, this story incorporates aspects of the Vulcan social and economic structure as described in my prior stories. If you have not read my earlier work you might have issues following along with this. Or you might not. Enter at your own risk.
Anyone is welcome to use anything I invent in these fan fics as long as they don't make any money off it. I also appreciate it when they take the time to give me a brief nod. Otherwise help yourself.
A/N: In line with the above, I was recently reminded that Linda/Bineshii was the one who originated the idea of Kuvak being the father of Kov. I do not know who first came up with the idea of Vulcan pregnancies being about a year long. It wasn't me. But I'm stealing the idea. Thanks, whoever you are. If/when I manage to dig up their name, I will post an official mention.
Chapter 3
T'Pol quite logically started the tour with Eric Hess on the far side of the factory and worked her way across, aiming toward the exit. They reached the prototype warp core at about the halfway point. Eric looked up at the gargantuan construction and whistled in admiration. "Anna told me about this, but I really never understood before just how huge one of these things is."
T'Pol's voice held a tinge of satisfaction when she said, "This is the largest and most powerful engine ever constructed by Humans. When completed, it will be capable of a standard cruising speed of warp 6.5, with an estimated maximum speed of warp 7.2."
"Yeowch." Eric ran a hand through his hair. "No wonder Anna was jumping up and down at the chance to work on this project." He looked at his combination hostess/tour guide. "When my sister's excited her voice gets louder and starts to raise in pitch. The last time she started telling me about this project I feared for the glassware in all directions."
"Anna's enthusiastic support has been invaluable," T'Pol assured him. "Would you like- uh!" She went to her knees, clutching her temples.
Eric froze in shock for a second. Then he leaped to support her. An instant later he remembered the warnings against touching Vulcans, but it was too late by then. T'Pol didn't seem to notice anyway. Whatever had hit her, she wasn't noticing much of anything. He carefully eased her over to the floor and peeled out of his shirt to make a pad for her head. Eric had no idea how to take a Vulcan's pulse, and even less idea of what a proper pulse would sound like anyway.
"Now what?" He started to panic. No comm unit jumped out and waved when he stood to scan the immediate vicinity. The nearest place to call for help was probably in the main office. Did he dare to leave her here? Did he have a choice? She wasn't bleeding or clutching her belly, so maybe she wasn't in labor. Maybe. "Please, don't let her be in labor!" He prayed fervently.
"Eric... Hess." T'Pol's voice came weak and shaky, but Eric wanted to dance to it. He dropped beside her and helped her sit up.
"What happened? Are you going to be all right? What can I do?" She raised a hand to stop him and fought to get words out.
"I... will be...fine. I need to rest. It seems I over... estimated my... stamina." She paused to breathe. "Please forgive the inconvenience. I regret that I will be unable to complete the tour. However, at a later-"
"Oh for fu-... for goodness sake," Eric said impatiently. "To hell with the tour. Let's get you someplace you can rest. Here, let me help you up, Mrs. Tucker." Once she was standing again, T'Pol seemed to stabilize and began to display signs of chagrin.
"Being pregnant seems to drain more of my strength than I had anticipated," she said defensively. "I did not expect... I was not expecting..."
Eric broke in, "Look, Mrs. Tucker. I hope you don't get offended, but every Vulcan I ever met seems to think that they were some kind of robot. Invulnerable and immune to pain. Come on, flesh and blood has limits, even Vulcan flesh and blood. Let's get you back to the office."
T'Pol refused water but she did agree to resting on the couch in Trip's office. She tried to convince Eric that she would be fine but he insisted on remaining available in the front reception area until Trip returned from his meeting. "I believe you," he told her stubbornly. "But it's better to be extra safe." T'Pol finally gave up with an air of one who knew when a Human was beyond reasoning with.
Eric was deep into an English translation of the Kirshara when he heard footsteps coming down the entrance passageway. He was surprised to see the two old Vulcans he had met earlier arriving Human-less.
"Hi... Live long and prosper. Where's Trip?" Eric offered his version of the ta'al and a curious look.
The younger one - rather, the not quite as old looking one - told him, "Charles elected to visit the Terran embassy on the return trip. Sulden and I have returned to provide T'Pol with a briefing on the results of the meeting." He didn't quite ask Eric to get out, but his companion did cast a meaningful glance at the door.
"T'Pol is resting in Trip's office," he told them. "She had a dizzy spell earlier. Seems ok now, but I wanted to wait until somebody else came back before I left."
Two eyebrows lifted in synchronized motion. "We will evaluate her condition," Sulden promised. Eric nodded and put the Kirshara back on the shelf.
"Ok, then. I'll be going. Tell T'Pol that she and Trip are welcome to call anytime. I'm just going to be staring at the wall until Anna gets back anyway. Nice meeting you." He waved casually and headed out, sighing and wondering what to do with the rest of the day.
T'Pol heard Anna's brother depart. Routine Human hospitality would ordinarily have compelled her to rise and offer farewells. However she decided for once to take unfair advantage of her condition.
It had been more than a Vulcan year since she had felt such an intense flash of rage through the bond. For an instant T'Pol had been certain that her adun was under physical attack. Then she had seen the vision of Koss, and felt him drawing strength to sustain the Disciplines. Then she knew.
She could reach the first level of meditation while she rested in Trip's office. No further. It was enough to restore and maintain her own equilibrium. With her eyes closed she felt the cool air of the embassy blowing over her husband's skin. Then the welcome ache of exercise flowing through his muscles. He was purging the negative emotion using Human methods. Good. No doubt he would visit the swimming pool afterward. By the time he finished, most if not all of the emergency response chemicals would be flushed from his system.
"He will never truly forgive me." It was not a new thought.
Her clan elders stopped in the outer room. Sulden, the eldest, quietly said, "We are here, T'Pol." They waited. If she did not respond within a reasonable length of time, they would conclude that she required solitude and depart. Or, since Eric Hess had reported her to be ill, they might take it upon themselves to confirm her safety before departing. An unpleasant and unnecessary indignity.
"I will be out shortly," she replied.
They were waiting with aplomb intact. Naturally. She inclined her head in respectful acknowledgment. "The meeting did not go well?"
Lorat told her, "It could have been improved upon, this is true." He described the location, the guard, the climb, the cave and setting. Then he deferred to Sulden.
T'Pol's face was stiff with her effort at control. Sulden eyed her carefully. "If you prefer, T'Pol-kan, we can defer this until a later time."
"No." She took a deep breath. "It will not improve with time. I am already aware of the severity of my adun's reaction. Continue." Sulden looked doubtful but complied. T'Pol did not realize that her fists were clenching until she felt her nails drawing blood.
"Do you, either of you, believe that Koss deliberately intended to provoke Trip into violent confrontation?" She whispered it harshly enough to grate against the ear.
"Yes." Sulden told her simply.
Lorat was more loquacious. "I am certain of it," he said.
T'Pol looked down at the floor. Lorat continued, "Charles exhibited a degree of self-discipline that would have been respectable for a Vulcan."
"I agree," Sulden offered. "Your adun upheld the honor of this clan in the face of deliberate and illogical provocation."
"There is no end to it," she said in a voice nearly inaudible. "There will never be an end to it. My shame will pursue us until the end of life."
"Shame is illogical," Sulden reproved. "You speak of shame, when there is no cause. Charles speaks of shame, when any logical person would judge his behavior exemplary. There is no logic in either of your complaints."
She looked up quickly. "Trip? Why? What did he say?"
The two clan elders traded glances. "It is not for us to speak," Lorat told her. "If you and your adun have not discussed this, it is past time that you do so. if you have discussed this, it seems that misunderstandings persist and I advise revisting it. In either case, it is not a matter for outside interference."
"What does require outside involvement," Sulden said, "is reporting the results of this meeting to Ganlas. If you are ready, T'Pol-kan?" She nodded and led the way outside, sealing the door behind them.
#
Tizok materialized on the transporter pad with a feeling of absolute wonder. He looked around and realized that he stood in a small alcove, being watched closely by two Human males and a tiny Human female. Remembering his preliminary briefing, he scanned their collars and concluded that he was looking at the captain, first officer, and some as yet unidentified lieutenant.
"Protocol, fool! You must observe proper protocol! This is a military vessel!"
Tizok raised his hand in the ta'al and said, "Peace and long life. I am Tizok, son of Althar, formerly of the V'Tosh Katur. I request permission to come aboard." He firmly squelched the errant thought that he was already aboard. Apparently to a Human, he wasn't 'officially' aboard until he had been formally recognized and invited. As a greeting custom, it could have been worse. The Ferkol for instance...
"Permission granted." The tallest Human stepped forward, the one wearing captain rank on his collar. "I'm Captain Jonathan Archer. This," he indicated the man operating the transporter, "is my First Officer, Lieutenant Commander Malcolm Reed, and this," gesturing at the tiny woman, "is our Communications Officer, Lieutenant Hoshi Sato. Welcome aboard Tizok. It's a pleasure to meet you." He smiled.
Tizok couldn't help it. He smiled back. At which all three Humans grinned. "I am indeed pleased to be here, Captain," Tizok said sincerely. "I look forward to learning much during my time on this ship."
Captain Archer continued smiling and told him, "Let's start by teaching you how to find your way around the ship. Commander Reed and Lieutenant Sato will escort you to the mess hall and introduce you to Lieutenant Rostov. Then the three of you can start hammering out the most effective way to make this arrangement work. Meanwhile I'm needed on the bridge. Once again, welcome to Enterprise."
He walked away, leaving Tizok to face the two remaining officers feeling a bit lost.
"It will get easier," Lieutenant Sato told him with a friendly smile. "We're accustomed to having Vulcans as part of the crew. Just give us a chance, I'm sure you won't have any problem fitting in."
"I shall strive to do so," Tizok fought to maintain a proper facade of control. In truth, the excitement of this new opportunity was a sore trial on his ability to mask his emotions. The new techniques introduced by the Kirshara were of great value, but it took time to revise one's entire worldview. "Do you have other Vulcan's serving aboard at the moment?"
"Actually, yes," Lieutenant Commander Reed told him. "My fiancee, T'Jala, is an assistant to our Chef."
Tizok halted and broke into a broad grin in spite of his best efforts. "Another one?" Both of the Humans chuckled.
"Yes," Reed admitted wryly. "T'Pol's Eldest Mother decided that I would make a good husband for T'Jala. So T'Jala gave me the once over and agreed. My opinion, apparently, was irrelevant."
"Malcolm!" Hoshi scolded him. She turned to Tizok. "He's just pretending to complain. Actually he adores T'Jala, and she spoils him rotten."
Tizok inclined his head. "It is the Vulcan way for women to handle marital arrangements."
"Are you married?" Hoshi asked innocently.
"No longer," Tizok said soberly. "My spouse petitioned to her clan elders to have our bonding severed when I joined the V'Tosh Katur." Hoshi winced and looked away.
"I'm so sorry," she said softly.
"Why?" Tizok wanted to know. "You have done nothing offensive. Your curiosity is entirely natural."
"She was expressing sympathy," Reed told him. The entered what was evidently a primitive turbolift and Reed activated the controls. They exited and proceeded a short distance to a large open area that the Humans explained was the refectory, or mess hall.
"But it appears quite neat," Tizok said in confusion. Hoshi sighed.
"Every non-Human visitor we have says that," she looked vexed. "I really wish Starfleet would let go of some of these ancient traditions. Just because they called it the mess hall on the old sailing ships, where the craft was constantly being shaken by storms and rocked by the motion of the sea, doesn't mean that it still applies today."
"Now I understand," Tizok smiled. "Vulcans have other, equally ancient customs. They are also maintained for no particular reason other than the fact that things have always been done that way."
"Have a seat," Reed waved at the tables. "Do you have a preference in food or drink?"
"I am not hungry at the moment," Tizok told him. "Unless, of course," he hastily added, "protocol demands that I share a meal."
"No," the First Officer shook his head with a smile. "We Humans are usually pretty relaxed about things like that. Other than rare ceremonial occasions. But if you're not hungry how about I get you a cup of tea? T'Jala and T'Pol both seem to like some of our herbal teas. I'll bring you one and get your input. All right?"
"That would be agreeable," Tizok told him, reflecting that despite Reed's assurances, it was obvious that some form of nutritive intake was indeed expected protocol on this occasion. He would need to remain alert. Perhaps the woman T'Jala might consent to speak with him, if Lieutenant Commander Reed did not object. Her experience would be valuable to him.
#
Trip opened the door to his house and got hit. His attacker grappled him around the knees and pushed forward as hard as they could. However, despite being Vulcan, they were unable to break Trip's balance completely. He staggered slightly and then bent forward to scoop her up under one arm. Her squeal of indignation morphed instantly into giggles when he counter-tickle-attacked.
"Gotcha!"
"Sa-da!" she protested. "Put me down. Ma-mehk 'n me made cup cakz."
"Oooh! Oooh!" Trip proclaimed, setting T'Lissa on her tiny feet. "Cupcakes. I want some. I want some."
"Oky," she agreed. "Ma-mehk sez you c'n have some too."
T'Pol emerged from the kitchen at the far end of the passageway carrying a tray. Trip looked at her with hungry eyes. She met his look for an instant, then said, "You should sit, husband. Rest your feet and have some water. Then I will bring you some coffee and the cupcake that T'Lissa offered."
"You told me not to call you a goddess anymore," he said, "so can I call you an angel of mercy instead?" Trip whooshed in relief while kicking off his shoes and peeling his socks. He dropped the socks into the disposal slot near the door, wiped his feet on a disposable towel, and slipped into a pair of thick soled house slippers. "Joy," he sighed.
"Sa-da's shusies 'mell stinky," T'Lissa confided as she followed her mother back to the kitchen. Trip missed his wife's reply on his way to the couch. He decided he was just as well off. The pitcher of icewater had never looked so good. He was working on the second mug when his girls returned, cupcakes in hand.
"Oh boy. You two really know the way to a man's heart," he proclaimed.
"Yuss," T'Lissa told him. "Hits right dere." She poked him in the breastbone. "'N Ma-mehk's is right dere," she pointed at T'Pol's burgeoning belly.
"That is correct, T'Lissa," T'Pol praised her. "You have applied yourself to your studies of basic humanoid anatomy adequately." The child beamed proudly.
"Sharp as a tack, beautiful, and she can cook," Trip proclaimed. He scooped her onto his lap. "Just like Ma-mehk. In a few years the boys will be lining up." T'Pol shot him a look but said nothing. It was a subject that had come up in conversation more than once recently. But she evidently decided that now was not the time to resume their ongoing debate about finding a betrothal candidate for their daughter.
"Would you care for a cupcake, Trip?" T'Pol asked him. "The flavor is strawberry, with vanilla icing." She handed him one on a napkin. It disappeared in three quick bites.
"Mmmm," Trip smiled at T'Lissa and rolled his eyes. "Mmmmm-mmmm."
"That means he likes it, Ma-mehk," she informed her mother. "Sometimes Sa-da dun't talk clear, but I c'n allus unnerstand him."
"I am gratified that our efforts were not in vain, daughter," T'Pol told him. "Would you care for one? Only one prior to your evening meal."
"Yus!" The little one grabbed eagerly and made hers disappear almost as fast as her father, who was licking the excess frosting from the napkin and ignoring his wife's rebuking eyebrow.
"Memmer, Sa-da, ony one before dinner," T'Lissa admonished.
"Fooey," Trip pouted. He asked T'Pol, "If we eat all our veggies, can we maybe have some more for dessert? Please?" He offered his best puppy-eyed look.
"Pease, Ma-mehk?" T'Lissa did her best to imitate Trip's big-eyed expression. But she couldn't quite manage to draw her eyebrows mournfully together the way her father did, so she pushed them together with her fingers. Then she stared at her mother, blinking pitifully.
T'Pol kept her expression frozen, but she sighed. "If you will both commit to consuming the appropriate caloric intake of recommended nutrients, I will not object if you wish to supplement your meal afterward with additional pastries."
"Yay!" T'Lissa cheered. Trip grinned and raised his fist in triumph, hugging his cohort.
"Until then," T'Pol continued, "you have yet to finish your mathematical studies. Have you reasoned out the solution to the puzzle I gave you? The one that is based on the relationship between the circle and the triangle?"
T'Lissa suddenly drooped like a dandelion in the Sahara. "No, Ma-mehk. It's too hard!"
"I doubt that sincerely," her mother told her. "You had very little difficulty with the last one, based on the relationship between the sides of the triangle. I expect you to finish the puzzle prior to the evening meal. Go."
T'Lissa groaned and slid off her father's lap. Trip stroked her hair and told her, "You can do it, baby girl. I know you can. Ma-mehk knows you can. We have faith in you."
"Grrrrrr." The little one walked out looking less than thrilled with either parent. Not stomping however. She had not actually stomped for quite some time, given what happened the last time she attempted it. But from her expression, the temptation was powerful.
"The elders informed me of events during the meeting."
Trip held his position, looking at the doorway through which T'Lissa had just walked. "I expected them to." He settled back on the couch and finally looked at her. "Is there coffee in that urn?"
"Of course," T'Pol told him, pouring a cup and handing it to him. She caught his hand as he took the coffee. "Trip. I am sorry."
"Stop. Don't do that." He pulled away and took a sip of the brew. "Perfect, like always."
She pulled her hands back and folded them in her lap, looking down. "As you wish."
"That wasn't-" He sighed. "I meant, don't apologize again. There's no point, T'Pol. We have thrashed this whole thing to death, and you know it." She looked up with unshed tears in her eyes. "Oh man." He slid over and wiped them before they could fall.
"They said... Lorat and Sulden told me that you spoke afterward." She looked down again.
"Crap." Trip fingered his cup. "I was still torn up about... you know. I was still angry, and I talked too much." Trip stood up and paced a few steps. "You know exactly how I feel. I told you. You told me how you feel, and how you felt then. We have been over this and over this. There's no use rehashing it."
"But it still hurts you." She buried her face in her hands. Trip slumped. He put down the cup and knelt in front of her.
"T'Pol. Look at me." He took her wrists and gently pulled them apart. "I know you're Vulcan. I realize that there's some parts of you that I never will understand. But that's ok. I don't need to understand. I love you anyway. Is that good enough for you?"
"I told you it is," she said, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his.
"All right. Then I'm gonna have to ask the same from you" He licked his lips. "This is part of me, and I can't help it. Talking won't change it. This is part of what I am. I don't know if it's because I'm Human, or because I'm male, or just because I'm me. Most of the time I don't even think about it. But sometimes, it comes back. I can't stop it. All I can do is ride it out until it cools down again. I'm sorry I'm made this way, but I am."
"Don't." She grabbed his hands. "If you will not permit me to apologize, then do not presume to offer one. Especially for being who you are. Out of everyone involved in the situation, you are the only one blameless."
Trip made a strangled noise. "Blameless. Right." He blew out his breath. "Can we change the subject? Please? Right now I don't want to think about what happened today. I just want to enjoy being home with you, and T'Lissa, and the wiggler."
T'Pol let a tiny smile fight its way out. "The wiggler, as you persist in referring to your son, has been unusually energetic today. According to my research this is entirely normal for Human gestation. But Vulcan offspring are not so profligate with their mother's resources. I admit," she paused to put a hand on her belly with a fond look, "that I find it somewhat disconcerting to have my abdomen suddenly deform itself without warning."
"Only another 43 days according to Kerlek," Trip encouraged her. "You almost got it done. But it's been a long ten and a half months." He kissed her. "I'm proud of you."
T'Pol gave him a look of exasperated patience. "It is completely illogical of you to feel proud of me because my body was able to carry out a natural function."
"But you did it right," he insisted. "You took your vitamins, you stayed on your diet, you did your exercises. You did everything you were supposed to do."
She looked strangely at him. "That was simple self-interest, Trip. It was best for the baby and myself."
"Exactly." He beamed and she looked confused.
"Ma-mehk!" A high pitched little voice echoed down the hallway. "The dingy is ding-ding-ing!"
"I believe that the casserole is ready to remove from the oven." T'Pol stood up. "Dinner will be ready in 11 minutes."
"Great." Trip fought his way back to his feet. "That gives me time to wash up and change into something looser. Race you to the table." He grinned.
#
T'Pol lay awake, listening to her husband's breathing. He was exhausted, mentally and physically. Another point of increasing concern to her was the long term effect that residing on Vulcan would have on Trip. His body was not designed to deal with the gravity of her home world. With reasonable caution, the desert conditions could be dealt with. The atmosphere was actually no thinner than could be found at the upper elevations on Earth, although the oxygen content was slightly lower.
But the gravity was certain to take its toll.
Both Dr. Phlox and Healer Kerlek had warned them that years of living under Vulcan gravity would inevitably cause permanent damage to Trip's circulatory and skeletal systems. By the time he was fifty years old he might require spinal support and artificial assistance with walking. T'Pol locked her jaws. This was totally unacceptable. However, Trip was equally adamant that they were going to raise their children among Vulcans. He reasoned, logically enough, that their dominant Vulcan genes and Vulcanoid appearance would present significant obstacles on Earth.
"There has to be a logical compromise." She felt him shifting position uncomfortably. Through the bond his restlessness was a low-level aching that settled into her own bones and kept sleep at bay.
"So much you have done for me, Ashayam," she thought tenderly. "So many things you have denied yourself for my sake. For T'Lissa's sake. For our son's sake. Your home, your blood kin, your people."
She reached across and brushed the hair from his face. "But still you see yourself as unworthy. After all I have done, for you to still be willing to endure my presence, much less to share your life with me, is an impossible gift."
"Ma-mehk!"
The little voice was too soft to waken Trip. He probably could not have heard it even had he been alert. T'Pol swung herself out of bed and into her lounging robe in a single smooth motion. She was moving down the hallway toward her daughter's room before a Human could have done more than get to their feet.
The little one was sitting up in bed and shivering. When T'Pol entered the room she saw T'Lissa hugging herself and darting frightened glances around the room as if she expected attack from any direction. The Vulcan mother switched to defense mode and instantly started searching the area for anything that might have penetrated their home's defenses. There were at least 26 known lifeforms capable of fitting through T'Lissa's window, and four that were capable of working their way up through the drain in her bathroom, that could be potentially fatal to a small child.
With the lights on and a thorough search completed, T'Pol eased off a tiny bit. T'Lissa was still upset, but lights and her mother's presence went a long way toward helping. Taking a seat on the bed, T'Pol asked her, "What caused your fear, daughter?"
The little girl looked down at her lap and fingered the blanket. "Nothing."
T'Pol considered this answer for a moment. She said gently, "T'Lissa. You were obviously frightened. There must have been some reason for your fear. Can you remember what the reason was?"
"It wasn't real," she told her mother in a tiny voice. "He wasn't really there."
"I see," T'Pol said. "It was a dream." T'Lissa nodded.
T'Pol sat for a few seconds, at a loss. This was one of the many situations where T'Lissa's mixed heritage necessitated what Trip called, 'making it up as we go along'. Vulcan children of T'Lissa's age dreamed as often as Human children. But in a case like this, a Vulcan child at T'Lissa's stage of development would receive basic instructions on casting out fear, and using logical analysis to negate any residual emotions that the dream might have triggered.
Unfortunately, while T'Lissa had inherited Vulcan mental abilities she also had the emotional maturity of a typical Human child. Prior attempts on T'Pol's part to introduce her to the preliminary Disciplines had been unsatisfactory in the extreme. She did not even possess the self-control for introductory training in meditation. Trip had assured her that this would come eventually. They just had to be patient. Meanwhile, Human methods seemed to be the only option. So... what would a Human parent do? What would Trip do?
"Do you," T'Pol hesitated. "Do you wish to tell me about your dream?"
T'Lissa sniffed. "He wuzsa bad man. He wunted to hurt Sa-da."
T'Pol's blood ran cold. She spoke with painful precision. "The bad man wanted to hurt your Sa-da? Why would he want that?"
"N'cause he wuz a bad man," T'Lissa repeated, with the crystal clear logic of childhood. "N'cause he d'n't like Sa-da, n' Sa-da d'n't like him either. They was hitn each othr." She shivered again.
T'Pol closed her eyes and recited the Disciplines to herself. Then she reached deeper for the Kohlinar training that she had not needed to access for months. T'Lissa was fated to become a Healer of interplanetary reknown, according to agents of the Temporal Authority. Apparently her Healer sensitivity was manifesting itself far earlier than usual. Not really surprising. The child was precocious in every other aspect, it made sense that her telepathic abilities would develop early as well. No doubt she had picked up some traces of her father's frustrated anger. She might even have inadvertently touched her father's dreams while he slept.
T'Pol made a decision. It would never pass muster if subjected to review by a panel of typical Vulcan grandmothers, but it 'felt' like the right thing to do.
"Come with me, T'Lissa." T'Pol held out her hand. The little one scrambled out from under the blanket and grabbed her hand like a lifeline. As soon as they made skin contact, she could feel her daughter's fear disapear. T'Pol directed her to put on her house slippers and led the child down the hallway to the parental bed chamber. They paused in the doorway and T'Pol pointed. "You see, Daughter? Your father is sleeping soundly in our bed. He is quite safe."
T'Lissa smiled and hugged her arm. "Can I stay with you and Sa-da, Ma-mehk?"
"If you will commit to remaining still and quiet," T'Pol told her, "you may rest with us. However, if you resume your prior habit of kicking and thrashing you will return to your own bed."
"I be good, Ma-mehk," the little one promised. She dashed for the bed and climbed eagerly under the blanket. T'Pol followed more slowly, already re-evaluating her decision. But she decided there was no point in changing it now.
As she slid into bed beside her daughter, T'Pol told her quietly, "The last time we attempted this, your father woke up with your foot in his eye and your elbow was in the process of excavating my trachea. You must focus on stillness and relaxation. Do you remember what I told you about making a picture in your mind?"
"Like a real soft place fulla pillows?" T'Lissa whispered back.
"Yes," T'Pol was pleased that she had remembered. "Close your eyes." The child obeyed. "Now make the picture. Do you have it?" The little one nodded. "Now put yourself there in your mind. Get comfortable so you can rest there. Do you feel them? Are they soft and warm?"
"Uh-huh." T'Lissa's voice was already drifting. "Smooth n' comfabel."
"Good," T'Pol whispered. "Rest, T'Lissa. Relax and rest. You are safe here. Rest. Rest little one. Rest..." She watched the child drift effortlessly into sleep. Finally.
T'Pol laid her hand against T'Lissa's face. Using the techniques that the Eldest Mother had taught her, she lightly shielded the little one to protect her from any stray feedback that might leak through the paternal bond.
Trip was studying hard. Considering that melding had only been legal on Vulcan for a brief time, the progress that her Human husband had made in understanding and controlling his part of their bond was exemplary. But the Human brain was not really designed for such functions. He could not be expected to maintain impenetrable shielding while unconscious.
Once T'Lissa was peacefully settled, she turned her attention toward her husband. Trip's pain had subsided slightly, but the weight of his fatigue pressed down on them both. She brushed his hair back and laid her hand on his cheek, concentrating on the connection between them. He had withdrawn past the REM phase, into the deepest part of the Human sleep cycle. It would be difficult for anyone except her or T'Lissa to awaken him now, even for an emergency. No one else would be able to capture his attention.
She reached through the bond and carefully located the points of greatest fatigue. T'Pol turned her attention inward and began routing her energy along the bond, pushing it into her mate. Trip slowly started to relax. Once he had settled into a more comfortable repose, T'Pol withdrew her probe and checked again on T'Lissa. The little one was still sleeping soundly.
She settled herself into a position that she could maintain all night without undue strain. Her son responded by stretching his limbs and and turning over. His simple contentment trickled through her awareness and brought a secret smile.
The Vulcan matriarch of her tiny sub-clan permitted herself to slip into meditation. It was the closest thing to rest that she would achieve this night. But her children and her mate would rest, and they would be protected. Nothing and no one would be allowed to harm them. Not even themselves.
#
T'Pol opened the door and stepped through into the well-remembered hallway with a feeling of safety and homecoming. She firmly told herself that she was being illogical. This house was not her home, and it was inherently neither safer nor less safe than any other location in the city. But memory overruled logic and kept her fighting to supress her contentment at being back.
T'Lissa started skipping at her side as they proceeded along the flagstone floor toward the common room. T'Pol squeezed her hand slightly to remind her that such exuberance was not desirable. The child ignored her and her mother could not bring herself to push the matter. Her own steps felt lighter for some reason as well.
The two older women that they had come to see were waiting for them in the common room. "E'dest!" T'Lissa squealed and started bouncing, tugging at her mother's hand and looking up with a pleading expression. T'Pol felt her lips twitch and she nodded. The little one took off like a starship going to warp. She headed straight for the oldest woman, who was sitting in a carved stonework chair and watching with a face that made the chair look emotional.
T'Lissa pulled up to a stop half a micron short of impact and broke into a wide grin. "E'dest I mist'ed you ah'm glad wur here did you mis' me can I he'p you make some tea howsa luffi vines doin?"
Eldest Mother T'Para raised both hands with her wrists crossed and offered fingertips to the young chatterbox. T'Lissa suddenly remembered her manners and reached for her great-to-the-umpth-grandmother's hands, then stopped and remembered to cross her wrists first, the remembered to turn her wrists over so that her fingertips pointed in the right direction. Finally she managed to duplicate the gesture and touched fingers with T'Para, eliciting a tiny eyebrow twitch of ancestral approval.
"The lourfi vines are progressing at an acceptable rate," she told her tiny visitor. "Your departure did in fact leave a detectable void in this household, and if you wish you may assist me in preparing tea later. For now, T'Lissa, you should exercise a modicum of patience and permit me to greet your ko-mehk and introduce her to your krei."
"Oky." The little one took position beside T'Para's chair with a hand on one armrest and watched the proceedings with deep interest.
T'Pol knelt with some difficulty and offered the greeting of family. T'Para touched her fingers briefly and stated, in archaic High Vulcan {Thou art troubled, daughter. Cast out fear. The family stands with thee.}
T'Pol let out a breath and stood, feeling better already. T'Para turned and reverted to modern Vulcan. "This is Jul. She is a licensed Healer, specializing in the the mind, who has recently revealed her talent for melding. Jul has studied the ancient techniques in depth since her childhood."
T'Pol offered the ta'al respectfully. "Peace and long life to you, Jul. I am indebted to yourself and the Eldest for so rapidly responding to my request."
The Eldest Mother expeled air through her nostrils in a manner slightly more forceful than was strictly necessary. In anyone else it would not have been noticable. For her, it was the equivalent of an impatient snort. "Refrain from such nonsense, daughter," she instructed T'Pol. "My grandchild requires aid. What should my response be? Refusal? Even Trip, who is the acknowledged master of creative illogic, would instantly perceive the foolishness of your words."
T'Pol inclined her head and accepted the rebuke. "You are of course correct, Eldest."
"Sit, both of you. Drink," T'Para ordered. T'Pol obediently took a spot on the second lounge, across the serving table from Jul and at right angles to T'Para's chair. The bouncing one was graciously granted permission to help serve the ritual cups of water. T'Pol sipped her water and felt peace sink into her katra. This house, the reassuring presence of the Eldest Mother, the knowledge that the clan was ready to provide any help that T'Lissa might need... it all lifted the weight that she had carried for the past two days.
T'Lissa, as usual, gulped down her water and asked if she could go look at the potted plants. T'Para granted permission, but warned, "Remember this time, T'Lissa. The Qol'istin flower may look aesthetically pleasing, but it will bite your finger if you touch it and the spines are poisonous."
"I 'members," T'Lissa assured her, rubbing a spot on her little hand uncomfortably.
"Remember also T'Lissa," her mother told her, "you are forbidden to climb on any piece of furniture, architecture, or vegetation on this property."
"Okee, Ma-mehk," the little one agreed readily. She took off for the sun porch and started giving the Terran cacti a thorough examination.
"She seems fascinated with horticulture," Jul remarked mildly.
"The child is fascinated by all forms of life," T'Para told her. "The plants were a negotiated compromise during her last visit, after I convinced her that capturing random invertebrates and bringing them into the house for further investigation was inappropriate."
"Your initial suggestion may well be correct then," Jul sounded intrigued. "If the child does exhibit high telepathic sensitivity, and if she retains her interest in biology, a career path in healing would be a logical choice."
"I am confident of her sensitivity," T'Pol told her. "The difficulty lies in her inability to control it." All three of the women watched the little girl as she ran from plant to railing, to bench, to another plant, and back to the railing again. "Two nights ago, she awakened badly frightened. Logic leads me to conclude that she must have brushed against her father's dream."
Jul suddenly focused her entire attention on T'Pol. "Are you certain of this? At such a young age, to probe a non-telepathic mind - even a sleeping one - is evidence of extraordinary ability. Were they in physical contact?"
T'Pol sighed before she could stop herself. "T'Lissa was asleep in her own room. My adun and I were sharing a bed in our room, as is our custom. However, you are incorrect in your presumption that Humans are non-telepathic."
Jul looked stunned. "But..." She looked from T'Pol to T'Para, who gestured confirmation. "But the Science Directorate has categorically declared..." Jul stopped and closed her eyes. "Is there anything that the previous administration did not lie to us about?"
"In this case," T'Para told her, "it depends on how one defines lying. The original researchers may well have acted in good faith when they classed Humans as non-telepathic. According to Trip, Human scientists actually considered themselves non-telepathic prior to first contact."
"I am confused." Jul blinked and glanced out the doorway. "If her father has telepathic ability, it will certainly affect T'Lissa. Blending ordinary Vulcan telepathy with alien abilities will produce unpredictable results. We will need to customize her training to factor in the Human aspects of her heritage."
T'Pol inclined her head. "Understood. According to the prevailing scientific theory, rudimentary Human telepathy evolved as a way of summoning assistance, and/or providing warning, in a case of ultimate extremity. It can transmit vague impressions, perhaps even visual or auditory flashes, but not much more. It is also exhausting to the Human brain. Human telepathy is designed to be powered by the extra energy of the Human adrenaline response, and only for short bursts."
Jul considered this information. "The explanation seems logical, if it fits the available data. But if so, why did the Humans fail to acknowledge this?" She paused abruptly. "Was it, perhaps, a cultural conflict? Similar to our own?"
"Not strictly," T'Pol said dryly. "Although my adun informs me that there were ongoing disagreements between established scientific opinion, and those individuals who reported personal telepathic experience."
"Why?" Jul looked even more puzzled.
"The difficulty," T'Pol explained, "lies in the fact that for Human telepathy to function, an abnormal amount of energy is required. It needs the extra power burst provided by their biochemical emergency response system. Otherwise, the ordinary Human brain cannot transmit a coherent signal."
"It cannot be made to function except during an emergency?" Jul asked, fascinated.
"An emergency, usually." T'Pol told her, "Sometimes an episode of extreme emotional upheaval can produce equivalent results. But the most compelling circumstantial evidence of Human telepathy was recorded in conjuction with life-or-death situations. Unfortunately, life-or-death emergencies are not optimum conditions for controlled experimentation."
"Understandable." Jul sat silently for a time and evaluated this data. "You said that she awakened frightened. Is it possible that your adun transmitted the content of his dream unconsciously?"
T'Pol hesitated. "Unlikely. T'Lissa does share a strong bond with her father. However, Trip was completely exhausted that night."
Jul nodded. "You consider that he would have been unable to generate the necessary energy then?" T'Pol gestured confirmation. The healer-melder leaned back and placed her fingertips together thoughtfully. "Would it be possible for me to speak to T'Lissa alone for a brief time?"
"Certainly." T'Pol stood and called the diminutive explorer back from her jungle excursion. "T'Lissa," her mother told her, "Krei Jul is a healer-melder. I want you to go with her to a private room and talk to her about your telepathy. Do you remember our discussions on this subject?"
"Uh-huh," the little girl nodded emphatically. "Vulcans-can-do-it-but-Humans-like-Sa-da-can't-unless-ther-real-sad-or-real-mad-unless-ther-married-to-a-Vulcan-but-I-can-do-it-n'cause-ahm-part-Vulcan-'n-part-Human-so-I-got-both-kinds-and-nobody-knows-yet-how-its-gonna-work."
T'Pol paused for a moment while the two older women blinked. "Yes... in any case, Jul wishes to talk to you about telepathy. She might also wish to test your telepathy. I want you to cooperate with her. Do you understand?"
"Oky, Ma-mehk." T'Lissa turned to looked at Jul expectantly.
The older woman stood up looking intrigued. "Tell me T'lissa. Do you know what telepathy is?"
"Uh-huh," she replied, following Jul out of the room. "It's how I know Sa-da is comin' home from work and his feet hurt, and how I know Ma-mehk wants ta puke 'cause Malcolm kicked her in th' belly, and how I know Eric was just bein' funny when he said wolf stew would make hair grow on yer tongue."
"Indeed." The pair disappeared around the corner, but Jul's voice carried back for a moment. "When you know that your ko-mehk is feeling nausea, how do you experience it? Do you feel it yourself? Or do you simply..." The words were cut off by the sound of a closing door.
T'Pol sat back and slowly felt herself begin to release the tension from her muscles. Jul obviously knew her craft. Equally obvious was her willingness to accept T'Lissa's mixed heritage without negative assumptions. Of course, the Eldest would not have recruited her for this situation if this were not the case. She was allowing her concern for her daughter to approach irrationallity. T'Pol took a deep breath and decided that continuing a daily renewal of the Kohlinar exercises would benefit her logic, at least for the short term.
"I would offer to make tea," T'Para said, "were it not for my agreement with T'Lissa. Do you desire any form of nourishment, T'Pol? Either liquid or solid?"
The question snatched T'Pol's attention away from the corner of the hallway, where she had last seen her daughter disappear. Deeply chagrined, she murmured, "I do not require sustenance, Eldest. The water is sufficient."
T'Para asked her serenely, "Does your adun know that you have not slept since T'Lissa intercepted his dream?"
T'Pol stiffened. Her lips tightened, then she slumped imperceptibly. "I should have realized that you would perceive it."
"Did you tell Trip what happened?" T'Para's steady gaze reached out and smacked T'Pol upside the head, then rubbed it and made it better, all without moving a single muscle.
"I..." T'Pol looked away. Silence reigned until she couldn't endure it any longer. She looked back and said, "I intended to tell him following this visit." Then she braced herself.
T'Para regarded her. {Daughter of my House. Hast thou so swiftly laid aside the lessons of the time when thou did dwell here with thy adun and thy child?}
T'Pol had expected this. She replied, also in High Vulcan, {Eldest, I have not. I have no intention of concealing this from Trip. However, my adun is already suffering emotional and physical distress. Before I increase his burden, I must be certain of my data.}
T'Para's nostrils flickered for an instant. {Ganlas provided me with a full report of the meeting. Lorat spoke to me regarding thy adun's ordeal. Now I will hear thy report. Speak.}
T'Pol hesitated. {Eldest. Thou knowest all that I do regarding the matter. I do not understand thy command.}
The Eldest lifted her left index finger off the arm of her chair approximately two centimeters, held it for precisely one second, and let if fall back. She returned to modern Vulcan. "I am not concerned with the meeting. Nor does Trip's conversation in the car afterward convey great significance. What I require is your report on the intensity of his reaction during the meeting. Lorat states that you were effected to the point of openly displaying your reaction in front of your Human guest."
T'Pol felt her ear tips getting hot. "I regret my unseemly lapse, Eldest."
"The cause was sufficient, child," T'Para told her impatiently. "And you are pregnant. The fact that you reacted is not at issue. What is at issue is the fact that Trip was sufficiently distressed to cause such a reaction. Tell me what you received through the bond."
T'Pol made a fist and wrapped her other hand around it. "Rage, Eldest. Killing rage. I have not felt such anger from him since..." She looked away. "Then I felt him drawing strength from our bond, and I knew that he was enacting the disciplines. Shortly afterward the connection faded."
"Indicating that he had regained control," T'Para mused. "Both Sulden and Lorat were favorably impressed with Trip's discipline. It seems he has been putting my teaching to use."
"Every day, Eldest," T'Pol told her. "He meditates twice each day, immediately after rising and just before retiring. Until the recent meeting, he had not..." She looked away.
T'Para watched patiently while T'Pol sipped water and recomposed herself. When the younger woman was presenting the appearance of renewed control, the elder one said, "Trip has not contacted me regarding this matter. I deduce that he considers his ability to cope with the situation to be adequate without further assistance."
"Yes." T'Pol closed her eyes. "After the meeting, he visited the Terran embassy and made use of the facilities there to purge the negative emotions. Once he had slept through the night he was able to resume normal activity with minimal disruption."
"Then why are you frightened, T'Pol?" The old woman's expression remained immobile, but her eyes were kind.
T'Pol briefly considered holding back part of her concerns. Then she cast out such illogical musings and put down her cup.
"I am gravely concerned, Eldest, about Trip's long term health. I am also concerned about the lingering damage to our bond from my earlier behavior." Despite her best efforts, T'Pol felt her shoulders sag.
"His long term health issues will certainly need to be addressed," T'Para told her. "For the present, I have arranged to have grav neutralizers installed in your house, in a room of your choosing." T'Pol's eyes widened and she straightened up looking excited. T'Para raised a finger in admonishment. "Do not consider wasting my time and your energy with illogical expressions of gratitude. It is my responsibility to oversee the welfare of the clan. Let that be the end of the matter."
T'Pol pressed her lips together hard and fought not to say what she was thinking. She lost the fight. "I cannot, Eldest. Trip has been suffering increasing discomfort of late, to the point of actual pain. But it would have been at least another half year before our resources permitted the installation of even a single grav neutralizer. Your assistance in this-"
"Be still, child," T'Para snapped, lifting her hand almost high enough to be called a wave. "The additional profits that will accrue to the clan due to Trip's intervention will pay for such minor conveniences many times over. It is certainly in the best interest of the family to maintain your adun in optimum physical condition, is it not? If he becomes disabled, the Humans will appoint a new project leader for their engine upgrade project. Perhaps one less agreeable to deal with."
T'Pol's expression softened. "Of course, Eldest. Your decision is entirely logical, as always." She looked down to hide a tiny smile.
"Merely a stopgap, naturally," T'Para acknowledged. "However it may allow you a little more time to weigh your options and decide your ultimate destination." T'Pol closed her eyes and nodded.
"Trip is determined that the children must be raised among Vulcans. His logic is unassailable, I admit. But I will not permit him to suffer disabling health effects in order to achieve this." She pressed her hands together. "The only logical solution I can perceive is relocation to a colony with a lower gravity field. The difficulty will be locating an appropriate planet."
"Agreed." T'Para leaned forward the slightest bit. "A change of venue might also relieve some of the stress caused by other aspects of life here."
T'Pol tightened again. "Yes." She said nothing more.
TBC
Note: Sorry for the abrupt cut-off here. Things in real life have been crazy lately, but I wanted to post something at least. I fully intend to finish this. I just have to finish putting out several fires.