Disclaimer: This is not my world. Paramount owns it. No profit made.
Rating: PG-13
A/N: Last Chapter! But an epilogue is coming because we do have to see the forthcoming wedding.
T'Pol opened her eyes, and she found herself on a familiar Florida beach, though she had never physically been there. The air was clean, if salty, and a cool breeze blew. T'Pol looked around and saw no other humanoids. She remembered this place was Trip's white space, but she didn't see him. Instinctively, she walked towards the dunes, and there she found him, sprawled on a blanket in a small valley between the dunes.
"Trip," she said, "what happened?"
"Dunno," he said, "Soo told me that we'd crippled a drone ship that was gunning for The Columbia. Next thing I know, I wake up here. I'm glad you came. I missed you."
T'Pol didn't tell him that she hadn't arrived on purpose. There would be time for that later. She knelt down next to him and examined his head. In least in his mind, there was no visible injury.
"You've been wounded," she said, "It's a head wound."
"I do have a splitting headache," he sighed, "I wish Phlox was here."
T'Pol assumed that Phlox was probably treating Trip at that very moment. She checked his vital signs, they weren't robust but they weren't faint either.
"You need to focus your mind on healing your body," she said, "I can help."
Trip closed his eyes, smiling dreamily.
"Okay," he said, "I can do that. . . ."
She took his hand.
"Allow me to help you," she said.
T'Pol knew that the only way she would get out of this white space was if Trip's body healed. As long as his subconscious mind thought it needed her, she wouldn't be able to leave. She used their telepathic link to send as much energy to Trip's mind and body as she could. The stronger she could make him, the quicker he would heal and she could return to her body.
"Just once I'd like to get another kind of wound. . .maybe in the leg or arm or something simple like that," he whispered.
"That would certainly be less intrusive," said T'Pol softly, humoring his illogical desire to control the types of injuries his body sustained.
"Rest now," she continued in a whisper, "concentrate on getting well."
Trip inhaled and smiled.
"I'm glad you're here, baby," he said.
****
Malcolm's trained eyes immediately assessed the situation. His CO was collapsed at his feet and his battered retrieval target had asked for asylum, though a Vulcan ship was about to transport her away. Malcolm glanced down an T'Pol's unconscious form and noticed she was breathing. He ordered his team to aim their phase pistols at Arian and Javon.
"Downing," barked Malcolm to his second, "See to the Commander."
With that, Malcolm stepped around T'Pol and approached Enme and Ravel. Malcolm removed a small device from his belt and tossed it to Enme.
"Pin that to her clothes," he said, "and make sure it's switched on."
Enme nodded. The entire landing party had been issued transporter jammers. Since Hoshi and T'Pol had been kidnapped on the station, Malcolm had made it standard practice for any personnel on away missions to carry one. He had even thought of making sure he and his team had extras.
Enme did as Reed commanded, fastening the device to Ravel's arm as he spoke softly to her in Romulan.
"Don't be a fool, human," said Javon, "You clearly need to get T'Pol medical treatment, you're only delaying the inevitable and putting your commanding officer at risk for a Romulan spy."
Malcolm glanced down at T'Pol.
"How is she?"
"It's almost as though she's asleep, sir," said Downing, "She's breathing and has a strong pulse. She's just out cold."
Malcolm nodded. T'Pol didn't appear at death's door, but he had no way of knowing what alien or Vulcan sickness had overtaken her and thought it prudent to get her back to Enterprise and sickbay as soon as possible.
"Check the information I gave to T'Pol, Mr. Reed," said Javon, "You'll see it's legitimate. Contact your Starfleet. Your superiors will order you to hand over Ravel."
Malcolm glanced down at the PADD that had fallen from T'Pol's hands when she collapsed. As he approached it, he stomped his boot on the device. It broke with a crack.
"So sorry Javon. . ." he said, "It seems that your PADD is damaged. We're going to have to take Ravel to Enterprise to confirm whatever orders we get from Starfleet. I suggest you transport up to the Vulcan ship with Arian. And Moppet. My team can help you with your luggage. I don't think there will be enough room on the transport for the two of you now that we've picked up Ravel."
Malcolm glanced at the petite Romulan woman, who was about T'Pol's size. He also looked up at T'Pol's brother, who locked eyes with him.
Don't do anything stupid mate, thought Malcolm, I've got this covered.
Enme acknowledged him with a blink.
"It's quite obvious she's going to take up a lot of room," continued Malcolm.
Malcolm studied Javon carefully. This was a man who knew how to take care of himself and get what he wanted, but he was also a man wise enough not to move against six well-trained Starfleet officers with phase pistols pointed at him.
Malcolm ordered one of his men to remove Javon and Arian's luggage. That went smoothly, but Moppet did bite the Ensign as he brought the creature from the transport ship. With fingers bleeding, he placed Moppet on the ground and the creature dashed toward his mistress. Arian scooped up her pet.
"Be careful with those cases," she said to the Ensign who was lining up their luggage on the opposite side of the landing pad.
Javon sighed. To his surprise, Malcolm saw emotion in the man's face. Not human emotion, but a kind of Vulcan contempt he hasn't seen since the days before Enterprise's maiden launch.
"We'll be in touch with the Vulcan ship as soon as we return to Enterprise," said Malcolm, "Tirak, take Ravel aboard the transport."
For a split second, Enme was puzzled at the sound of his Vulcan name, but then he quickly led Ravel up to the door of the transport, which remained open, and they disappeared inside.
Javon shrugged.
"You've only delayed the inevitable transfer," said Javon, "and Earth needs allies at this point."
"So does Vulcan," said Malcolm, who turned his attention to T'Pol. "Can she be carried onto the ship?"
Malcolm knew Downing had training as medic.
"I think so, sir," said Downing, "Again, she doesn't appear hurt. Just asleep."
Malcolm nodded.
"Make it so," he said, with his best British-get-things-done formality.
Downing scooped the Vulcan and carried her into the transport ship. Then, Malcolm and his team back slowly into the ship. His eyes didn't leave Javon's until the door closed.
****
Phlox stood over the wounded Captain of Enterprise, examining the scans taken by the imaging chamber. The gash on on the left side of Trip's head had been stitched up and cleaned by Phlox's osmotic eel, but he had lost a good deal of blood, and he had a concussion.
"Is he going to wake up soon?" asked Hoshi, who was still in shock to be the acting Captain.
"Not until tomorrow," said Phlox, "I've induced his coma so that the Captain can recover from his injury. As you well know, this isn't his first head trauma, and I want to be extra careful."
Hoshi nodded. The battle had been over for several hours, and all the drone ships had been destroyed.
"Have you heard from Commander T'Pol?" asked Phlox, "I assume she'll want to be informed of the Captain's condition."
Hoshi shook her head.
"Nobody's been at the comm since . . .I got in the big chair," said Hoshi, "I'll head back to the bridge. I know the landing party isn't even supposed to head back here until they've got clearance. I probably better go do that."
Phlox nodded and returned to his patient.
"Good luck, Lieutenant," said Phlox as the acting captain rushed back toward the bridge.
***
Aboard the transport, Malcolm studied the senors. A Vulcan ship was most certainly in orbit around the mining colony. So were two Tellarite ships and one Andorian cruiser, assigned to guard the colony and its dilithium deposits.
Enme appeared on the bridge and sat down next to Malcolm.
"T'Pol is still asleep," he said, "but she doesn't appear to be in immediate danger. Ensign Downing doesn't want to risk trying to revive her with a stimulant until the ship's doctor has a chance to determine what's wrong with her."
Malcolm sighed. It sounded wise.
"How's Ravel?" he asked.
"Downing scanned her for internal injuries," said Enme, "She has a fractured bone in her shoulder, a fractured wrist and bruises everywhere. But he doesn't believe she's permanently damaged."
Malcolm was relieved. The poor woman looked as though she had been through quite an ordeal.
"Thank you," said Enme, "for intervening on behalf of Ravel. The Vulcans. . .would not be as kind to her as you humans would be. . .of that I'm sure," said Enme.
Malcolm nodded at the man. He spoke the truth, though Malcolm was sure the Vulcans wouldn't physically harm Ravel, he wasn't sure what mojo they would work with their mind melds to get information from her. He had read a Section 31 report that T'Pol had been seriously damaged by a botched mind meld. Only the skill of Administrator T'Pau had healed T'Pol, and Malcolm seriously doubted someone at T'Pau's level would be working on Ravel.
"I was only doing what I believed my Commander would have done had she been able. T'Pol made it clear she intended to pursue Ravel's asylum claim before her collapse. As a Starfleet officer, I'm obligated to try and carry out the wishes of an indisposed commanding officer."
Enme nodded, although Malcolm had a feeling the Romulan knew that he could have just as easily handed Ravel over. It probably would have been less trouble.
Oh well, thought Malcolm, the crew of Enterprise never did shy away from trouble. I'm just carrying on the tradition started by Archer and continued by both Trip and T'Pol.
****
The leased transport docked straight at Enterprise's airlock. Hoshi met them there, and Malcolm had never seen her look so relieved.
"Boy," said Hoshi, "am I glad to see you."
In a complete breach of protocol, Hoshi threw herself into Malcolm's arms.
"You're now acting Captain," she said, as though the embrace passed the mantle of command to Malcolm.
Malcolm looked back to see if anyone had seen the bear hug, and then he smiled softly.
"How's Trip?" he said in a low voice, so that none of his subordinates could hear him use the captain's familiar name.
"Phlox says he just needs time to heal. What's wrong with T'Pol?"
"She just collapsed. . .she appears to be in some kind of coma."
Malcolm and Hoshi looked at each other. Both of them knew about the Vulcan mating bond their commanding officers shared.
"Do you think Phlox knows about their telepathic bond?" asked Malcolm.
"You'd think it'd be in their medical files," said Hoshi, "but I'll tell him."
A couple of Phlox's assistants had brought a gurney for T'Pol, and they were wheeling her to sickbay.
"Do that," said Malcolm, "I've got to contact Admiral Archer. The Vulcan Javon tried to give custody of Ravel to the Vulcans, but she's asked for asylum here. Before she collapsed, T'Pol made clear her intent to petition Starfleet for her. Ravel made it known she doesn't want to be transferred to the Vulcans."
Hoshi's eyes widened.
"We'll straighten it out," said Malcolm.
Enme and Ravel stumbled out of the airlock together.
"Welcome aboard, Ravel," said Malcolm, "This is Lt. Sato, she's on her way to sickbay, and she can escort you and. . .Tirak there."
Malcolm gestured to Enme with his head, hoping a trained operative like Ravel would recognize the necessity of Enme being given a Vulcan name.
"Thank you, Mr. Reed," said Ravel softly.
Enme took her arm, and the two of them followed Hoshi down the corridor.
***
Trip was now sitting up. He sat cross legged across from T'Pol on a beach blanket. T'Pol had been attempting to help him meditate, so his physical body could better heal.
"How long you figure we've been here?"
"It's difficult to say. The passage of time here does not coincide with the physical world."
Trip took both her small hands into his.
"I'm feeling better," said Trip, "When I first got here I couldn't even sit up."
"Then it shouldn't be long until we're awake."
Trip sighed.
"T'Pol," he said, "Enterprise's captain and first officer are both indisposed. You're supposed to be in charge if something happens to me. Well, somethin' happened and we're both stuck here when we're needed elsewhere. And there's a war on."
T'Pol nodded, her face a Vulcan mask.
"Perhaps Mr. Reed would be a better first officer."
Trip sighed.
"But you're the best first officer in Starfleet. You keep the ship running, darlin' I wouldn't be able to do my job on a daily basis without you, and I'm not just saying that because you're the love of my life."
T'Pol nodded again, silent.
"So, what's the logical solution, Miss Vulcan?"
"I will meditate on the matter," she said softly.
Trip didn't need a telepathic bond to recognize the faint hint of sadness in her voice. He knew that she figured whatever the logical solution was, he wasn't going to like it. He clutched her hands tighter in his big ones, and he he closed his eyes hoping that when he awoke he would be back on Enterprise where he belonged.
****
Malcolm sat in the Ready Room, staring at Admiral Jonathan Archer's image on the monitor.
"She's not a prisoner," said Malcolm, "She's a defector, and she wants to defect to Earth and not Vulcan."
Archer shook his head. He didn't look happy.
"I agree with you Malcolm, but the top brass thinks this is a bone they can throw to the Vulcans. I'll bet the V'Shar is offering something big in exchange for Ravel, though I don't know what it is."
Malcolm bit his lip.
"Do we have any recourse? Can we appeal in a civilian court?"
Archer shook his head.
"This is a top secret military matter, remember? Nobody's even supposed to know what Romulans look like or know we have any contact with them at all."
Malcolm started to feel sick to his stomach. Enme had vouched for humans, and Ravel had trusted them.
"By the way," said Archer, "I'm ordering Enterprise on a diplomatic mission to Denobula, asking them for assistance in building the coalition. Since you've got Phlox aboard, Enterprise can bring a perspective no other ship can. It's a mission far more important than a run-of-the-mill prisoner transfer. You're to leave as soon as you can get under way. The Vulcans will just have to wait to get Ravel."
Malcolm smiled. A diplomatic mission to Denobula would take a few weeks, at least. It wasn't much, but it was time bought.
"Thank you, Admiral."
"Get going, Mr. Reed," said Archer with a smile, "I have no idea when the Vulcan ship might show up demanding a prisoner transfer, and you just don't have time to spare."
"Yes, sir," said Malcolm.
****
Trip's eyes fluttered open. He recognized the ceiling of sickbay. He had seen it enough times from the perspective of a biobed.
"Don't try and sit up, Captain," said Phlox, "Just tell me how you feel."
"Sleepy," said Trip, "but otherwise I feel okay."
Phlox smiled down at him, one of those creepy Denobulan smiles for which Trip had developed a fondness.
"I've given you a good dose of pain medication," said the doctor, "So, your head should not be bothering you."
"How's T'Pol?" asked Trip.
Phlox glanced behind him.
"You tell me. She seems to have lapsed into a coma at the same time you went unconscious. The Vulcan database is vague on the effects of mating bonds, but my guess is your telepathic link caused a sympathy coma in her."
Trip took a deep breath and gingerly felt his head wound, feeling a tinge of guilt.
"Not quite. My subconscious mind decided that my body needed her mental energy to help me heal. So, I pulled her into the coma with me without even realizing it."
Phlox's grin became even wider.
"And you two were able to discuss this while you were unconscious state? Fascinating! Utterly fascinating! Do you think the Commander would mind if I wrote a paper on this incident? There's so little data on the effect of a Vulcan mating bond — let alone an interspecies one! "
Trip looked over at the biobed next to him and saw T'Pol. She was still in a deep sleep.
"Can you wake her now?" asked Trip.
"I'll give her a stimulant if she doesn't come around in a few minutes, but I expect she'll awake on her own soon enough."
"Is Malcolm in the big chair?" asked Trip.
"He is," said Phlox, "He wanted to know when you were awake. He also wanted me to inform you that Admiral Archer has ordered Enterprise to Denobula on a diplomatic mission. We're already heading there."
Trip paused. From the ship's hum, he guessed they were traveling at about Warp 4.5. Trip squinted his eyes a little, trying to think of a reason Jonathan would send them so far away from the action.
"I believe there's more going on that just what appears on the surface, Captain," said Phlox as though he was reading Trip's mind, "but Mr. Reed will want to inform you of the details."
Trip nodded.
"When can I return to duty?"
"If you promise to rest and keep your duty shifts to eight hours for the next week, you can return to duty tomorrow afternoon."
Trip nodded.
"Get Malcolm down here," he said.
"Yes, Captain," said Phlox as he headed for the comm.
***
Malcolm sat across from the two Romulan defectors in the captain's mess, a space he chose because it was private and it created the illusion that the two "Vulcans" aboard the ship were guests. Hoshi sat at his side.
"So," said Enme, "You've only bought a couple weeks. The Vulcans will still expect you to hand Ravel over."
Malcolm nodded, as Enme grabbed Ravel's hand.
The day before, Phlox had treated Ravel's wounds and told her to get bed rest. Malcolm had seen to it that she was assigned guest quarters next to the Vulcan Tirak. Not being a complete dove, Malcolm had also ordered his team to keep a close watch on their Vulcan guests. However, he also thought that after he had intervened on Ravel's behalf, there was little chance the two Romulans would betray him or T'Pol or him. Starfleet and the V'Shar were another matter, but Malcolm believed that both Enme and Ravel would consider it a dishonor to betray their protectors.
"When T'Pol awakens, and Phlox thinks she will shortly, we'll ask her if we have any recourse from the Vulcan side."
"Can't you just leave us on Denobula?" asked Ravel, "We'll disappear somewhere. No one will ever know."
Malcolm paused. Thus far, they had broken no rules, but letting to Romulans go scott free would have serious consequences.
"It may come to that, but you'd spend your lives on the run from both your own people and the Vulcans," interjected Hoshi, "It will be better if we can figure out a way to keep you under Terran protection."
"It will be in Earth's best interest to keep me," said Ravel.
"How so?" asked Malcolm.
"When Enme's father was assassinated, I wasn't the only member of his inner circle that was forced into exile. There are dozens of us, and many have escaped to what you call no man's land — this neutral zone between Alliance and Romulan space."
"Go on," said Malcolm.
"Like Enme and myself, these people will now consider it their patriotic duty to see the current Romulan government overthrown. And the quickest way to see that a Romulan regime is overthrown is for them to suffer a major military defeat. . .Enme was gone before the coup, but before I was captured by the Orions, I was in contact with several refugee ships. I won't reveal the position of the refugees to the Vulcans. I'll die first. But if Earth were to offer them asylum, they might be convinced to help you in your war effort."
Malcolm was silent.
"We're talking engineers who designed Romulan Warships," said Enme, "We're talking physicians who can give you all the information you want on Romulan biology to make bioweapons, we're talking officers of the Imperial Army well-versed in Romulan tactical strategy. But every moment you wait, makes it more likely that my people will hunt the refugees down and annihilate them."
The comm buzzed. Phlox's voice echoed into the room.
"Mr. Reed, the Captain is awake and asking to see you."
"Understood," said Malcolm.
"Go ahead and eat without me," said Malcolm standing up, "I'll be back soon enough."
***
T'Pol's eyes slowly opened. She recognized the ceiling of sickbay, and she heard Trip and Malcolm's voices close to her. They weren't speaking to her but rather to each other.
"Ah, Commander," said Phlox, "It's good to see you awake. You gave Mr. Reed and the security team quite a scare on the mining colony."
T'Pol attempted to sit up.
"Don't try and sit up, Commander," he said, "You've been unconscious for nearly 36 hours. You need time to recover."
T'Pol nodded, and she turned on her side to see Trip sitting on the edge of a bio bed and Malcolm standing next to him.
"How are you feelin', darling?"
"I'm fatigued, Captain, but otherwise I feel healthy," said T'Pol with the utmost of professionalism.
"Good to hear it," replied Trip, "Malcolm made sure not to hand over Ravel to the Vulcans and Admiral Archer bought us some time by sending us half across the quadrant and away from the front lines. . .but its looking more and more like the Starfleet intends to hand Ravel over to your old friends at the V'Shar. She's terrified and your brother's about to blow a gasket."
T'Pol nodded.
"Any suggestions as to how we can talk the Vulcans out of this?" asked Malcolm.
T'Pol gazed up at Malcolm, and she pondered the situation for only a moment.
"I have one suggestion," said T'Pol, "but I must make it to my. . .to Tirak," said T'Pol.
Trip and Malcolm glanced at each other.
"Phlox," said T'Pol, "When will I be released? I need to speak with Tirak and Ravel as soon as possible."
****
"I must what?" said Enme.
"You must marry Ravel," said T'Pol.
Enme shook his head, in shock. T'Pol had hoped to inform Ravel and him together, but Ravel had retired early from exhaustion. She was still traumatized by her experience with the Orions.
"Vulcan law is very strict regarding a husband's right to physically access his spouse. Our mating cycles make it a necessity. Since you are under Starfleet's protection, that protection would apply to your spouse under Vulcan law."
Enme looked out the window and stared at the blur of stars.
"But I'm not Vulcan," said Enme, "Surely, they can override the law in the case of other species."
T'Pol shook her head.
"The law is arcane, and it applies to all marriages. The Captain used the law to make certain I was allowed to leave Vulcan after our marriage and return to Starfleet. He also invoked the same law to make certain we would be allowed to serve together. Starfleet didn't want to cause a diplomatic incident by insulting me or violating Vulcan family law. It was determined then that the Captain's humanness did not have a bearing on his rights as a husband."
Enme laughed, and T'Pol continued.
"No doubt the Vulcan government and the V'Shar will insist that you and Ravel be debriefed and carefully monitored. But Mr. Reed is an intelligence agent, and his team, as you have observed on several occasions, is well-equipped. Although we can't guarantee that you will be allowed to stay on Enterprise, marrying Ravel will make certain she can stay under Terran control."
Enme nodded.
"All right," he said, "Do you know if you're ship's garden happens to grow Romulan Blood Orchids?"
T'Pol raised her eyebrow.
"When a Romulan male wishes to propose, he sends the best Blood Orchid he can find to his intended. If she accepts it, it's an acceptance of the proposal."
"Crewman Bowers, who is in charge of our shipboard garden, is an exo-horticulturalist. I'm not sure she can provide you with a Romulan Blood Orchid, but she may have a close analog."
Enme began to pace a little.
"And who will officiate? Do you have a priest aboard the ship?"
"Terran tradition dictates the captain of a vessel can perform a legally binding marriage, provided there are two witnesses."
Enme nodded again.
"Who are these witnesses?"
"One is generally chosen by the bride, the other by the groom — usually close friends or relatives but anyone of sound mind can be the witness."
"Will you be my witness, sister?"
"Of course," she replied, "and I'm sure one of the other crew will stand up for Ravel. If you apply for a license over subspace with digital signatures and marry before two witnesses, the ceremony will be legally binding."
Enme headed toward the door.
"Can we go to the garden now? I know it's late, but I want to send the orchid in the morning with a note explaining. . ."
Enme continued to chatter on, and T'Pol observed that he was not at all reluctant to marry Ravel for legal reasons. From his grinning and his laughter, she deduced that he was happy at this turn of events.
****
That night, T'Pol returned to her quarters expecting it to be empty. When last she left sickbay, Phlox said he was keeping Trip overnight for observation. But she immediately inhaled his scent as she opened the door, and there was a light on in their bedroom.
"I'm in here, darlin'" he called out.
She found him in bed, reading a PADD.
"I convinced Phlox that I'd get better rest in my own comfy bed," he said, "as long as I stay here until noon tomorrow, he's okay with that. But he said to tell you that you can't expect me to exert myself."
Trip spoke that last part a little wistfully.
"They'll be plenty of time for exertion in the days to come. The trip to Denobula should prove uneventful."
T'Pol slowly started changing out of her uniform and readying herself for bed. As she did so, she explained how Crewman Bowers had been able to provide an orchid that was very close in color to Romulan Blood Orchids. In the meantime, Enme was going to compose a letter explaining the need for their marriage to accompany the flower, which Bowers had agreed to deliver in the morning. The groom was not allowed to deliver the flower and note himself. Apparently, that was considered bad luck.
"I think it's kinda romantic," said Trip, "Your brother seemed to care a lot about her well being. I think he was sweet on her before all this started."
T'Pol crawled in bed beside Trip.
"You may well be right," she replied as she put her head on his shoulder, "How are you feeling?"
"Just a little tired," said Trip, "Remind me to avoid getting clunked on the head. I never enjoy it when I do that."
She sighed.
"We must tell Starfleet that we can't serve together on a combat vessel. Our bond might help us work together on a daily basis, but when you were wounded, I was also incapacitated. That poses an unacceptable risk to this crew. We should ask for a transfer to another kind of vessel or back to Earth."
Trip sighed, and then he smiled at her. He took her hand.
"Let me ask you somethin'. Do you think we could learn to use some of the blocking techniques to prevent the bond from acting the way it did when you collapsed?"
T'Pol thought about this for a moment.
"We could probably make such an occurrence far less likely, but it would always be a risk."
T'Pol knew her suggestion was logical, but Trip was giving her a look. The same look he gave her when he talked her into marrying him. He had good a good counterargument, that she knew.
"So, what happened when you and I were knocked out? You've been briefed, I assume."
"Lt. Commander Reed was able to retrieve Ravel from the mining colony, and Lt. Sato was able to destroy the drone ship when she took command."
Trip smiled.
"So, in essence, thanks to the competence of Hoshi and Malcolm — there were no negative consequences to this ship or her crew. . .now, I'm not saying that you and I don't need to work on making sure this bond doesn't knock us both out at once, we do. . .but I don't want to be the kind of Captain who doesn't let my crew step up and take responsibility in a crisis. Bond or no bond, in wartime both of us could be hurt. How do we know that you wouldn't have been clunked on the head along with me, had you been on the bridge? I'll be a better captain if I know that if you can't step in for me, that Malcolm or even Hoshi can — if a worst case scenario happens. And if there's a small risk that you and I could be taken out at once, I think the crew would be willing to assume that risk it in light of the last couple of days. I'll explain everything to Malcolm and Phlox. They can be ready."
T'Pol remained quiet, pondering her husband's words. Such faith in the others. . .was logical given their histories.
"Malcolm, Hoshi. . .Travis and Phlox. . .they're like a second family to me, and I think they are to you. They've got our backs. We can't abandon them because of what might happen, and if the worst happens, as it nearly did yesterday, they won't abandon us. They'll step up. That is a far safer situation for this crew and this ship than if the captain and first officer were the only ones who could take control in a crisis."
T'Pol searched her husband's eyes, and she saw the wisdom there. He had come close to death too many times to allow fear to rule his life.
"I'll study the Vulcan database for blocking techniques. We'll probably have to work at them together, in meditation. It will require much discipline."
Trip put down the Padd and turned out the light, and then put his arm around her in the darkness of the cabin.
"I can handle that, sweetie," he said, "Now I think I better get to sleep. I have to learn how to perform a wedding ceremony. Two nights from now, I'm going to be doing it twice."
Trip gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"Sleep well. I love you."
"I love you too, Trip," she said softly and she soon followed her husband into sleep.
