Disclaimer: I don't own this world. Don't profit or anything seedy like that.

A/N: Fasten your seat belts, angst aplenty follows.

Chapter 8

Trip paced outside the imaging chamber, like the expectant father he was sure he was. T'Pol's symptoms had not lessened in the previous month, and even she was beginning to doubt her pregnancy was a false one. Dr. Sanders began tapping into the control and looking at the readings.

"How's Hoshi?" asked Trip, by way of conversation.

Dr. Sanders smiled, amazed at how fast word got around the ship. She had let Hoshi, who was the person everyone on the ship knew and loved, be the one to begin telling people about them. They had attended the last three movie nights together, as well.

"Didn't you see her this morning?" asked Dr. Sanders with a twinkle in her eye.

"Yeah, but someone's partner often knows better than the person," said Trip.

"True enough. Hoshi's been well. A little tired, like we all are, but she's fine. Speaking of which, how has our Captain been? Has she been taking care of herself?"

Trip smiled.

"I've been making sure of it," he said.

Dr. Sanders looked up at the scans, and as she pushed a button, the imaging chamber door opened and the gurney slowly slid out. T'Pol sat up and turned to examine the scans.

"Well," said Dr. Sanders, "it seems this is one for the record books."

Trip moved quickly to T'Pol's side and placed a hand on her shoulder. Her face appeared a mask of Vulcan calm, but he knew otherwise.

Dr. Sanders tapped on the console and a vivd, color image appeared on the screen. It showed the fetus she carried. T'Pol closed her eyes.

"Are you okay?" asked Trip.

"Yes," she replied softly.

Sanders brought up another image. It was a genetic profile.

"This is the child's genetic makeup," she said, "It appears that most Vulcan genes dominate human ones. I'll have to study it further to see if there are any exceptions, but this baby is going to be a Vulcan for all practical purposes. She'll have pointed ears and copper blood, that's for sure."

Trip smiled widely, and he let T'Pol rest her head on his shoulder.

"It's a girl?" he asked.

Dr. Sanders nodded.

"We'll have to watch you carefully. Obviously, we don't know what complications will arise. But continue as you have been, and I'll want to see you once a week from now on. More if you experience any unusual symptoms. Commander Tucker, I'm going to rely on you to make sure she follows all my instructions."

T'Pol nodded, meekly.

"Will do, doc," he said.

A few hours later, Trip and T'pol sat in the captain's mess with Archer. Chef had prepared one of Archer's favorite meals, and the former captain was in an excellent mood that day because T'Pol hadn't told him the truth of their situation. He didn't know Earth had been destroyed, and he was intent on figuring out a way to be useful to the mission he didn't know had failed.

For his part, Trip was in such a good mood over the miracle of T'Pol's pregnancy, he didn't mind being part of the deception at all. T'Pol was quieter, but she welcomed the distraction of playacting for Archer.

Her stomach was unsettled, so she simply ate a bowl of Plomeek soup.

"How's the soup?" asked Archer.

"It is acceptable," said T'Pol.

Archer turned to Trip.

"How long have you two been seeing each other?" asked Archer, pointedly.

Trip looked at T'Pol, and she shrugged slightly. Archer wasn't a fool, and he knew them both very well. A few times before, after watching the pair who had been his senior officers interact, he had guessed they had become more than friends.

"Awhile," said Trip.

"Was something going on before I got sick?" asked Archer amiably.

"Not technically,' said Trip, "but something was going on."

He winked across the table at T'Pol, who realized she had not known Trip to be this happy since before the first Xindi attack. She actually felt true, deep happiness flowing from his mind.

She turned and looked at Archer. The last time he had figured them out, he had reacted jealously and accused them of being irresponsible. This time, he seemed pleased.

"Does the high command know about you two?"

Trip shook his head, and he answered honestly.

"Nope," he said, "Soval figured out T'Pol bonded with someone, but he thinks it's you, Captain. T'Pol didn't correct him. With your sickness, it wouldn't be logical for Soval to get on your case. With me, I'd never hear the end of it."

Archer actually laughed.

"Glad I could be of help. . . Bonded? What does that mean?"

T'Pol's eyes widened, but then she calmed herself. It's not like Archer would remember the conversation, so she could speak freely.

"Vulcans form a telepathic connection with their mates. I didn't know one could form with a human, but it did," she said simply.

"Well," said Archer, "I wish I had something better to toast you two with, but congratulations."

T'Pol nodded, and Trip clinked a glass with his old friend, wishing he could tell Archer the whole truth. Then again, thought Trip, Archer was eventually going to notice that T'Pol was pregnant. But they'd cross that bridge when they came to it.

That night, Trip finally began to sense that T'Pol wasn't as happy as he was. It wasn't as if she didn't want the child, but her mind was awash in worry and sadness for the child's future. For her future. For Trip's future.

"It'll be okay, T'Pol," he said, taking her hand in his.

He felt her shaking, actually shaking. He decided it was time for some old-fashioned neural pressure to calm her. He had read in the Vulcan database that the practice was good for the health of both mother and baby.

"C'mon," he said, "Lie down."

She obeyed, and she closed her eyes as he skillfully applied pressure to the various nodes in her back and legs and feet. After a long while, she felt him kissing the back of her neck. Then, he moved to the tip of her ear.

"Dr. Sanders says I'm to relieve your stress in any way possible," he whispered in her ear, "Neural pressure is one way, but I can think of another way as well."

He slipped his hand down her pajamas bottoms and found a very specific neural node that had become his favorite. Whatever protest he sensed in her melted away, and when he turned her over, her lips met his with a hard, passionate kiss. Soon, they were both naked and spent, and he lay his head on her still taut belly.

"You realize," said T'Pol softly, "that you will soon be the Captain of Enterprise."

Trip tensed up a bit, and then he kissed her navel.

"I suppose a pregnant captain isn't a good idea. . .not for the ship. . .not for you . . .or her. . .but maybe we could both go live on the surface. . .raise her there."

T'Pol ran her fingers through his hair.

"The ship needs you. No one knows her better than you, and the crew wouldn't trust anyone besides you. Malcolm will make a fine first officer, but he's not ready to be Captain. It must be you."

Trip sighed. The colony needed to know they were protected, and Enterprise was the flagship. The great hope of humanity.

"I know," he said sadly, "but what will you do? Take care of the baby? Take care of Archer? It'll be a step down. . ."

"That is irrelevant," she said, "I will do what is best for all parties."

He sensed something cryptic both in her words and in her feelings. It unsettled him a bit, but he pushed it into the back of his mind. It wasn't going to be easy, but this child had given him hope that all was not lost. He had to believe that things would get better.

Two weeks later, Hoshi brought a PADD into T'Pol's ready room.

"You've got two letters from Vulcan," said Hoshi, "One is from Soval. One is from the address you contacted last week. I haven't translated them."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

"How are you feeling?" asked a smiling Hoshi, "If I may ask?"

T'Pol raised her eyebrow. She knew better than to think Dr. Sanders had violated her confidentiality, but she wanted to know how Hoshi knew.

"Trip told me two days ago. But don't blame him. I guessed. Your gate has changed just slightly, and you've stopped drinking alcohol. And you've gone to see the doctor once a week. I asked Trip about it and he smiled so big I thought he would burst. That sort of confirmed it."

T'Pol sighed.

"I am well. We will be making the announcement official once I've reached my second phase. . .thank you for your concern."

"Congratulations, Captain," said Hoshi as she headed back to the bridge.

Alone in the ready room, T'Pol first read the letter from Soval, which contained the usual reports about the Xindi and the usual entreaty for her to return to Vulcan. She then accessed the second letter. When she finished reading it, she placed her head on the desk and used every bit of control she possessed to keep from weeping.

That night, when Trip arrived at her quarters, he sensed a peculiar nothingness from her. It was as if she put up a wall between them, effectively blocking their bond. The emptiness he felt was chilling.

She sat on the bed, still in her uniform.

"What's wrong? Did something happen with the baby?" he asked, rushing to her side.

"The baby is healthy. Dr. Sanders believes I will carry her to term," said T'Pol.

Trip searched her eyes, and he saw nothing but Vulcan control in them.

"Then what's wrong?"

"I received a letter from my mother today," she said softly.

"Your mother? I thought she wasn't talking to you. Something about you having disgraced your family for about twenty different Vulcan reasons. . ."

T'Pol nodded.

"I sent her a letter last week telling her of my condition and that the child will be essentially Vulcan. She has agreed to raise her on Vulcan, as a Vulcan. This is the most logical choice for the child."

Trip inhaled sharply, and then he stood up. He leaned against the bulkhead, unable to look at her.

"You can't be serious. . . "

He felt her eyes on him, and he knew she was deadly serious. But he was, too. A rage like he hadn't felt since the days right after Earth's destruction flowed through him and he sent it all right toward her. She began to tremble.

"She's our child. . my child. . ." he stuttered.

"She's a Vulcan," said T'Pol, "What future will she have living here? She'll be an outcast. . among refugees. Vulcan still exists, she'll have a chance for an education and a normal life. . .living among people who can teach her to control her emotions. . . emotions that you can't begin to help her understand. Among humans, she will only suffer. . ."

"You think the Vulcans will accept a half-human?" asked Trip, his voice was now desperate.

"They won't know. Dr. Sanders believes that only an examination of her genome would reveal her human ancestry. . ."

"But she'll know," said Trip, "She'll have to know. . ."

"She will know," said T'Pol softly, "but think logically Trip. What are the odds this colony will survive? What are the odds that humanity will survive? She'll be better off there, and you know it."

Trip slid to the floor. He wanted to rush over to her and convince her she was wrong. Convince her everything would be okay. But it wasn't okay. It hadn't been okay since the day Archer had gotten sick.

"All three of us can go live on Vulcan," said Trip, "We'll find a way to fit in. . ."

"Would you really abandon this ship? Your people? When they need you?"

Trip closed his eyes. He couldn't do that, and they both knew it.

"What about you? You can go back to Vulcan with her."

T'Pol shook her head.

"Long ago, I made my choice. I belong here, among your people. You need me. Archer needs me. I won't go. Besides, with my disgrace. . .my mother doesn't wish me to return. That was one of the conditions for her accepting the child."

T'Pol suddenly crossed the room, and she knelt beside him but did not touch him.

"I understand this might cause you to hate me," she said, "but I must do what is best for her. We must do what is best for her."

T'Pol reached up, and she put her fingers on Trip's temple. She let the bond energy flow between them and also through the child. This action would link his mind to the child's mind, so that no matter how far away their daughter was, she would always know that her parents loved her.

Trip finally looked into her eyes, and it was clear he comprehended what she had done. He couldn't speak, and so she simply pulled him into her arms and allowed him to cry.