Sayden overlooked the site of the former embassy, shed a single tear for his departed comrade and then turned his back. There were so few of them left now, that no news of a Valakian death could leave him unmoved.

Salvation, at least according to their new Romulan benefactors, was lost to them.

Oh if only we had found you in time! those benefactors sighed, shedding crocodile tears.

Salvation was lost, but there was time yet for vengeance. The last of the Valakians would take the Denobulans with them. And the Romulans would have Earth.

Oh, it is scarcely out of our way! the benefactors smiled

Sayden hated them.

Sayden had to admit their effectiveness.

Denobula, that chatty, bustling little paradise, was falling silent and grim.

But it fell now to Sayden wield the most personal sword.

Phlox.

Phlox The Plague Enabler, they'd called him as they'd jostled and tournamented. Phlox The Unhealer. As they competed for the right to bring Valakian wrath to bear.

And Sayden had won.

He would kill Phlox.

Travelling out of a restricted zone would not be easy. It would require risk and cunning,

But he would prevail.

"For my people", he murmured. "For those fallen, and for those who still stand and witness the end. For all of us."

"Pregnant?"

"Yes."

"To me?"

Wounded pride and anger impelled T'Pol to answer, "yes" - but she had no wish to discuss this further. Her heart rent and tore.

"Pregnant? Why didn't you...?"

"It is of no consequence," T'Pol snapped. "We are clearly unsuitable co-parents. Moments ago you accused me of knowingly sending the away team into danger, sparing only you. If you think so little of me, we should not have a child together."

Trip was wide-eyed, but beyond that his expression was opaque to her. "T'Pol, wait," he said more softly. "Slow down and give me a chance to..."

"No," T'Pol interrupted. "It is your instincts which concern me Commander, and I would do myself no service by giving you time to conceal them."

"T'Pol...!"

"No. I informed you only to allay your suspicion of my treachery. Beyond this, this matter will not concern you, and we shall not discuss it further. I suggest you return to your post, Commander."

T'Pol left him then, mind reeling, and stumbled to her quarters. Meditation was impossible, her thoughts were to numerous, and all flew at her at once, like a swarm of winged predators.

After unknown, fruitless minutes, she stumbled to sickbay.

Where her advent was barely acknowledged by a harried Alice Harper, who was rapidly typing missives and running them through a Denobulan translator

"I no longer wish to be pregnant," T'Pol announced loudly, shocking herself with the waver in her voice.

"I very much doubt that's a well considered position," Alice replied distractedly. "Also, I'm busy. Just breathe into a paper bag for a few minutes." Affronted, T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "That has not been a recommended treatment for several hundred years."

"I know," Alice replied. "I was hoping it would make you pass out for a few minutes."

T'Pol clicked her tongue in an irritated gesture she had scarcely used since childhood. "This pregnancy was ill-advised..."

"True," Alice snorted.

"...and I no longer wish to continue it..."

"False. T'Pol, when did you last sleep? Properly, I mean..."

"...Commander Tucker and I are not destined to be together..."

"Even falser. And good lord, your blood pressure!"

"...he does not love me."

"And we've hit Peak Falsehood," Alice replied finally leaving her seat. "T'Pol, due respect, shut up for a minute and breathe. I'm going to give you a sedative."

T'Pol drew backwards. "Will it harm the embryo?"

"The embryo you don't want?"

"WILL IT?"

"NO. SIT DOWN!" Alice snapped, her clipped reply soon followed by the hiss of a hypospray, and an immediate loosening of T'Pol's chest. "Now, tell me what happened. No, let me guess. You told him, and it didn't go perfectly, and then you immediately freaked out and ran away, without talking about it properly."

"Vulcans do not 'freak out'," T'Pol replied stiffly. "The Commander's response indicated that he would not be a suitable parent and..."

"Utter nonsense. He'd be wonderful, and you know it. Whatever is going on here, it isn't that."

The sedative was greying the edges of T'Pol's consciousness, so she helped herself to a bio-bed. Then words began to fall like tears. "The away team may be dead. He was nearly on that away team. I could have lost him today. And he thought I knew of the danger. That I asked him to stay, so others would die. He thinks I'm a traitor."

Alice, or an Alice shaped blur as she appeared to T'Pol, sighed. "Well, I'll say one thing for you two. You work together beautifully to create absolute clusterfucks. Imagine if you could use that power for good."

"I DO want my baby," T'Pol replied, now on the edge of sleep.

"I know."

"Please don't let her die, as well"

"T'Pol..."

"Please..." And sleep came.

"Hoshi."

"Hmm..."

Travis stepped into her field of view. "Hoshi, take a break."

Hoshi exhaled loudly and threw down her earpiece with some force. "I can't take a break, Travis. I must have called every official in the Denobulan capital a dozen times and..."

"...So they know you want to talk to them and they'll talk to us when they can," Travis replied in a frustratingly calm voice, while reaching for Hoshi's hand. "Calling them all a thirteenth time isn't going to make any difference."

"We have people down there," Hoshi shouted in reply finding herself on her feet. "I need to find out what is happening at the shuttle port and if..."

"AND contact Phlox. You have also been trying to contact Phlox. Right?"

Hoshi hissed through her teeth in frustration. She did not need this sort of petty interruption. She had work to do. "Of course I have, Travis. I know how to do my job."

"Oh, of course," Travis said, stepping away, his voice taking on something of a strange edge. An edge Hoshi did not have time to analyse. "No question."

Hoshi retrieved her ear piece and turned her attention back to the comm panel. "I'll see you later."

If there was an answer, she didn't hear it.

"But I don't understand," Liz interrupted. "Why can't we get through?"

Palayjah shrugged, while unconsciously wringing her hands. "Two bombs have gone off in the capital. EVERYBODY has family there. The 'waves are just filled to capacity."

Mettus snorted. "Or that's what the government wants us to think. Seems to me they have a vested interest in keeping the 'waves filled to capacity right now."

"Oh, that's just paranoid nonsense, Mettus," Palayjah replied tensely. "You are upsetting our guest."

Mettus laughed aloud at that "Is she a guest, or is she a step-mother? It's so hard to tell with aliens these days..."

"That's enough, Mettus," Phlox interrupted, although with less rancor than Liz might have secretly hoped. "The people who were on that shuttlepod are our friends. I've known some of them for years."

"Let's have some tea," Palayjah interjected firmly, before Mettus could reply with anything more than a sneer. "Help me in the kitchen, Mettus?"

When they'd gone, Phlox directed Liz to a padded sofa-like structure built into the wall, and urged her to sit. She did so heavily and the force seemed to knock tears into her eyes.

"I'm just so worried, I feel so helpless," she whispered.

"I know, Elizabeth," Phlox answered softly. "I feel similarly."

"Can't we go to the Capital?" Liz asked hopefully, looking into Phlox's eyes. "Find out for ourselves if everyone is okay?"

Phlox held her gaze for a moment, but then turned away and lowered his head. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. They are my friends too. Malcolm in particular is a dear friend. But, I have given years of my life to Enterprise and her crew. My family needs me now. My people. I'm needed here."

"I could go then! I'll travel to the Capital and..."

"If you cross into a restricted zone you will not be allowed to return to me Elizabeth, perhaps for months. The thought of you here alone is...unbearable." Even as Phlox spoke, he reached out, in a rare tender gesture, and brushed a loose strand of hair away from Liz's face.

Across the room, bearing a tea tray, Mettus cleared his throat. "So, I take it, it's 'step-mother' then?"