Trip
He dreams he is at her wedding.
A tall, young Vulcan man steps forward to strike a gong.
She is as beautiful as ever. Her purple dress moulds to her body, a beaded veil is draped over her head. He could stare at her forever. He tries to reach out to touch her but she is too far away and he can't get closer.
The gong rings out again.
He is frozen in place. He can feel the oppressive heat of the desert planet. He can feel the pull on his body of the increased gravity. His lungs seem to gasp for oxygen in the thinner atmosphere.
The final toll of the gong announces her fate
He watches her walk towards the Vulcan man. He tries to call out to her. Begs her to come back to him but she can not hear him, he is too far away. She kneels in front of the Vulcan and they reach out their hands, touching two fingers together. He can feel his heart breaking.
On this hell of a planet, watching the woman he loves marry another man, how can he be expected to breathe.
T'Pol
The first gong calls her to the ceremony. It is a logical decision. There is nothing for her on Earth and very little on Vulcan. No other Vulcan would consent to marry her. That Koss is still willing is a surprise. She did not tell him of her Pa'nar Syndrome, or her neural damage, she certainly did not tell him about Trip. It is obvious to all Vulcans she meets that she has lost her logic. She has no profession, she has no logic, she has no t'hyla. This is the only option available to her to build something resembling a life on Vulcan. It will not be a happy life, there is no happiness without Trip. If she was a proper Vulcan happiness would not even matter. But she is not proper and now she knows the experience of happiness, it is cruel to live without it. But she will be as Vulcan as she can be. She will endure what she cannot suppress.
The gong rings out again. She steels herself, breathes deeply, suppresses what emotions she can. Her mother forced her to eat this morning and the food sits like a stone in her stomach. She tamps down on the rolling nausea and works on keeping her face neutral. She can feel her mother watching her intently, though her expression is neutral.
She knows she has become unpredictable. She cannot understand why the emotions are so much worse now than they were on Enterprise. She cannot understand her fatigue and her loss of appetite. There is a part of her, the confident, assured person that she used to be, who is telling her not to do this. She cannot muster the energy to listen to that person and carry out her instructions.
The final toll of the gong calls her to her fate. She does not hesitate, even she knows it would be illogical. There is no one to fight for her, no challenger to her fate. As she walks across the courtyard it almost as if she can hear Trip calling her, asking her to come back to him. Her stomach lurches. A sheen of sweat develops on her forehead as she fights to control the nausea.
She comes to stand before Koss and is filled with an unbearable sense of loss. This will be her life now. She looks at him, he is not objectionable, she even senses that he feels a certain fascination for her. It is not who he is that is the problem, it's who he is not. Her sorrow can no longer can be contained. Her eyes fill with tears, which spill over and run down her face.
She kneels and, as if in a trance, stretches out her hand, middle and index fingers extended while he mirrors her actions. They bring their fingers together in the ozh'esta. With the touch of the fingers come the touching of minds. She feels his conscious brush against hers and she feels a frantic urgency to retreat from him. Her katra shrinks away from his, her body revolts. The nausea she has been struggling against for weeks overcomes her. She retches suddenly, turns away from him and empties the contents of her stomach onto the flagstones in the courtyard.
Eventually the heaving subsides, she is left gasping for breath on the pavement. She feels gentle hands grasp her arms, helping her rise. She is so drained she can barely stand. She is led, stumbling and shaking, into the house. She can hear voices, her mother, a male, a second male. She cannot focus on their words, the whole world seems muffled. She is led to her room and helped onto the bed. She lies there, the sweat cooling on her skin and tries to breathe.
Koss
He tries not to see her tears. He knows of her illness, knows of her neural damage. He has hoped she would accept him. He has always been fascinated by her. More than he should be. More than is logical.
She is beautiful now, but it wasn't always so. As child she was too thin and all her limbs seemed too long for her body, her eyes and mouth too big for her face. He remembers pictures he saw once, of a strange Earth animal with long skinny legs and a ridiculously long neck, it reminded him of her as a child, everything out of proportion. He was mesmerised by her even then. Her emotions, always just out of reach, had him in their thrall even when they were children.
When she returned to Vulcan he tried to suppress the hope, tried to approach his betrothal logically. He was unprepared for how quickly she accepted. He had approached her expecting to have to coerce her, if nothing else, she was always suitably Vulcan in her self sufficiency. He almost experienced sadness at how quickly she agreed. Some fire in her has gone out. She doesn't even care enough to resist him.
But with her tears he feels something break within him. She will never truly be his. For his own contentment, for hers, he should let her go. He cannot resist the opportunity to touch her mind, just once. To feel the storm he has always sensed within her. He knows as soon as he touches her, as soon as her katra retreats from his in rejection and revulsion. She could never have been his, she had belonged to another from the day she was born. Everything he had felt from her, the fire, the passion, the unrest; it had always been her katra driving her onwards, compelling her to find her other half.
He watches passively as illness overtakes her. He is not unkind, he knows there is very little he can provide for her except perhaps her freedom, either that or his family's reputation. He can't determine which would be more useful to her. Her mother and cousin guide her to the house. The rest of the wedding party follow. The Doctor is summoned. He rises from the cushion in the courtyard and follows the group into the house. He resolves to help her in any way he can because he is not unkind. Even though, just a little bit, she has broken his heart. Even though, just a little bit, it hurts to breathe.
T'Les
The Doctor runs the medical scanner over T'Pol and looks at the results when it beeps. As he processes the information, his eyebrows raised. He packs the scanner into his bag, closes it and starts to head to the door.
"Aren't you going to treat her?" T'Les asks, puzzled by his behaviour.
"She has Pa'Nar Syndrome, there is no treatment." He tells her as he departs the room.
The nature of T'Pol's condition is something of a surprise. She is not, however, surprised her daughter did not inform her of her of it. They have never had a close relationship. T'Les was always harder on T'Pol for her more emotional nature than her father. Her father had indulged her nature somewhat.
Fortunately the cure for Pa'Nar is more simple than the High Command would have all of Vulcan believe. T'Les does not even marvel over the irony that she joined the Syrranites in an attempt to understand her daughter's nature and now that association will save her life. This is the chaotic nature of life and does not warrant wonder or speculation. T'Les does suppress a surge of annoyance at the Doctor's failure of logic and ethics. She is also uncertain of Soval's logic in neglecting to provide her with this piece of information. But there is no rationale for dwelling on either issue and she exits the room to make arrangements.
She has known Saros for several years and it he who first introduced T'Les to the Syrranite practice of melding. She sees no logic in delaying treatment and requests his presence immediately. Her Vulcan discipline is almost shaken by the news of what he learns from the meld. It seems there was much Soval did not reveal, if he was even aware. She is not certain her daughter will ever feel at home on Vulcan now, but does not know if there will be a place for her on Earth either. It is certainly logical to locate this human, whom her daughter knows so well and determine what effect this state of affairs will have on him.
She is shaken from her thoughts by Koss entering the room. She prepares herself for a difficult conversation. It is hard to believe her daughter's betrothed will accept this news with equanimity.
She is surprised for the third time that day. Koss displays rather more insight into the nature of T'Pol's various conditions than she believed possible. What's more he is strangely willing to accommodate T'Pol in whatever function she and T'Les believe he could be most useful.
Once he is gone T'Les finds herself unsure how to advise her daughter. Continuing with the marriage would certainly provide T'Pol with stability and help to redeem her reputation. But the other circumstances would likely make the marriage untenable to T'Pol, and her compromised emotional control would make it obvious to all around her. She could foresee that it would be an unsatisfactory marriage for both the groom and the bride, neither getting what they wanted or needed from the union.
"Well Mother, what do you recommend?" T'Les turns to her daughter, her expression fixed.
"I was not aware you were conscious, Daughter." It is unlike T'Les to prevaricate but she did not want T'Pol to know that she was unable to discern the logical path.
"I have been awake for some time, Mother."
"I surmise Saros appraised you of what he learned in the meld, and that you overheard the conversation with Koss."
"That is an accurate deduction."
"And you seek my council on how you should move forward?" T'Les is surprised again that day. It is a long time since T'Pol had relied on her mother's logic over her own.
T'Pol looks away for a moment and releases a deep breath. "I believe my logic has repeatedly failed me of late, Mother. I find I am unable to rely on my ability to make a decision that is not an emotional one."
T'Les feels a strange pain in her chest at T'Pol's confession. As unVulcan as it was, she had always had such spirit, such vitality. It is obvious Koss was attracted to it, and perhaps this human Commander as well. She realises it hurts to see her beloved daughter so broken. The love one feels for one's child will never be fully suppressed.
She thinks of the suffering her daughter would face separated from her bondmate for the rest of her life and realises the course on that matter is clear.
"I believe under the circumstances we should attempt to contact this human you have bound yourself to. It is likely that he is suffering the effects of this situation as well. We should also consult experts and gain their guidance." She informs T'Pol briskly.
T'Pol's expression remains fixed. "And Koss?"
T'Les does not know how to answer, the marriage would be logical for so many reasons, but could T'Pol even survive a marriage to one man if she is bonded to another. It seems likely T'Pol would not thrive under those conditions. It would be like a prison, a straight jacket. it would be like not being able to breathe.
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