Chapter 8

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T'Pol

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The red haze of the sun slowly creeping over the horizon drove T'Pol on. By now the others would be awake and searching for her. As soon as Solvan made it back from the cave the search would become a hunt. Her legs felt heavy with exhaustion, and although she had been running for hours, she could only just now begin to see the high wall surrounding the compound. T'Pol stopped, pulling out the rangefinder she had taken from the camp. Peering through the scope she saw the compound was still almost 3 miles away.

T'Pol slowed to a stopped, closing her eyes; she wasn't going to make it to Vel'ek in time.

The bag of supplies she had stolen from the camp felt so heavy. She knelt as she unburdened herself of it, wincing as the wound on her side protested. Although she had applied a second clotting pad to the dressing only an hour earlier, she could see clearly that the bandage was now soaked through. T'Pol quickly sorted through the bag, looking for another, but found nothing.

She let out a deep breath and picked up the transmitter. It wasn't ideal, she couldn't be sure Vel'ek's communications weren't being monitored. Even his private signal could be a risk, but she didn't have a choice. At this point the likelihood of her making it to the compound in time, or at all for that matter, was becoming less probable every minute. If she did nothing, the seat of power would change hands overnight with no word from the Vulcan people. She keyed in the channel, encrypting the signal, "Command will move to take by force that which is not theirs by the people's will. Warn T'Pau." Cutting the channel, she was distracted momentarily by her sweat dripping into the sand.

The steady drip drip seemed to happen almost in slow motion; the drop would fall and as it impacted the sand, between a state of solid and liquid, it would expand and contract until it created an almost perfect small wet ring. A wall surrounding an empty crater.

How would she get across the wall?

There was a place in the wall that had shifted with time. The once perfectly flat wall had crooked into perfect hand holds for climbing in and out of the compound at night. To lay in the sand and look at the stars. She had been so young then, but perhaps it was still there, or maybe she should lie in this sand and look at the stars. Although they had faded into morning, if T'Pol closed her eyes she could imagine them perfectly.

The drip drip caught her attention again, pulling her from her ambling thoughts. It was getting harder to concentrate. She took a long drink of water, centering herself. She would leave the remaining supplies here. It wasn't as if covering her tracks was an issue anymore and the extra weight would just slow her down even more. T'Pol was about to toss the transmitter aside when she changed her mind. There were things she hadn't said. She switched the device to the record function, and voiced a short message. After pulling the data chip, T'Pol pushed herself up out of the sand and carried on towards the compound.

Surprised by how easily she found the old handholds, T'Pol made quick work of pulling herself over the top of the wall, sitting perched quietly until she was sure she wouldn't be seen. Once she was sure no one was watching, she pulled her hood over her face and dropped down over to the other side of the compound. As her feet hit the ground, her legs crumpled beneath her, causing her to land in a clumsy heap. Gritting her teeth against the pain, T'Pol pushed herself up, touching the knife at her hip assuredly. Now all she needed was to get to Vel'ek. She walked as quickly as she could without drawing attention to herself, nodding respectfully as two of Command walked past in their flowing black robes.

As she entered the front hall of the large domed building she immediately noticed that the guard station was empty. In fact, there was a peculiar absence of anyone in the building. T'Pol's pace quickened as she felt anxiety rise inside of her. As soon as she reached his office T'Pol closed the door quietly behind her. Vel'ek's personal guard, T'Pring, was missing as well. The possible reasons why she had made it this far into the compound undetected made her uneasy. Approaching the door hesitantly, she paused on hearing the rise and fall of a woman's voice. She tried to make out the words behind the soothing tones, but when she couldn't, T'Pol gently pushed the door open.

T'Pring was kneeling next to a bloodied Vel'ek, her hand resting on the hilt of the blade protruding from his chest. "My respect for you has never wavered, however there was no other way," the woman murmured softly

T'Pol felt frozen unwilling to see what was before her. In her exhausted state a low moan escaped her throat announcing her presence.

"Peace, Vel'ek," T'Pring whispered before twisting the knife and pulling it out, standing up slowly to face T'Pol.

In response T'Pol pulled her own blade from its sheath, "What you are doing is wrong." The accusation came out weaker than she had wanted, but there was a slight shift in T'Pring's features.

"How would someone who has lived so long away from her people understand?"

"My position on Enterprise has not made me unaware of the Council's current reforms."

"They give technology to the humans, completely disregarding the fact that they are nothing more than children. They have taken the monitoring stations offline, leaving the Andorians to mount their own aggressions completely unchecked. And they do all of this while evidence mounts that a new threat has come to this system. If it pleased Surak the Council would let our adversaries tread across our fallen bodies."

"You are confusing tolerance with submission." T'Pol's hand shook as a slow numbness began to creepy over her body, "However, this is no longer a question of who is right. You have killed Vel'ek. There is no one left to stop this coup of yours."

"You are correct. The change should be completed soon now." T'Pring nodded before wiping off her blade and sheathing it, "You seem to be in need of medical attention."

"Yes," T'Pol agreed, her blade slipping from her numb fingers. She watched as it fell, almost surprised by its escape, she hadn't meant to let it go. The smooth engraved metal of its hilt seemed far away then close again as she fell to her knees in front of it.

T'Pring helped T'Pol up before guiding her to a chair, "I will call a healer to you." T'Pol only nodded, suddenly too weak to respond. She felt the beginnings of unconsciousness take her. Clutching at her pocket, she found the data chip she had recorded. T'Pol held it tightly in her hand as her vision blurred, comforted by the idea that he would at least know. Know the things she had never said, or had been too ashamed to say. Know how his life had changed hers. He would know how she… felt. She pushed her mind to enter a healing trance, but before the black could take her, she called out to him one more time.

"Trip…"

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Trip

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Trip awoke as alert as he would have had a klaxon sounded. Looking around the room, he tried to identify the source of his sudden consciousness. His survey of the empty room revealed nothing amiss. He saw nothing but the stream of stars flashing past his port; heard nothing but the steady thrum of the engine through the ship.

Trip took a deep breath and dropped his legs over the side of his bed. His heart beat hard and fast against his chest seemingly unsatisfied with the apparent lack of danger. Closing his eyes, he scrubbed his hands hard across his sweat drenched face.

Something was wrong; something he couldn't quite pinpoint.

Maybe he'd heard some shift in the engines, or felt a small jerk in the ship. He walked over to the comm, pushing the call button a little too hard.

"Trip to engineering."

There was a response almost immediately. Trip recognized the voice as Hess, glancing at the time he wondered absently what she was doing on duty so late. "Hey chief, what can I do for you?"

"Is everything okay down there?"

There was a pause followed by a hesitant reply, "Everything's green, sir," Sensing, however, that this wasn't a sufficient answer she quickly added, "I could run a full systems diagnostic. There's one due in a couple days but it won't hurt anything to move it up in the schedule."

Trip thought about it for a moment before replying, "Yeah," he nodded to himself, "It's probably nothing, but go ahead and run it."

"Not a problem, I'll get the night shift started on that ASAP." Before cutting the channel her voice turned to a familiar, less formal tone, "Is everything alright?"

"Just a feeling."

"Got it. We'll take care of it, sir."

"Thanks Anna."

Trip cut the channel, frustrated that the call had done nothing to calm the adrenaline pumping through his body. The silence of the room seemed almost suffocating as he tried to organize his thoughts. Pacing back and forth, his shaking hands alternated between clenched and unclenched until realization stopped him mid-stride.

It was too quiet.

He squeezed his eyes shut, frantically searching through his mind, grasping for any thought, any feeling, that wasn't his alone. He came away with nothing. The place that had so long been occupied by the light vibration, the subtle warmth he knew to be her, was suddenly, strikingly empty.

She was gone.

Without thought his body went into motion and the next instant he found himself pounding Jon's door indicator. They man answered, blurry eyed, but alert. "Trip? What's wrong?"

"Something's happened to T'Pol."

Archer seemed confused, glancing over his comm screen and shaking his head. "We haven't received any communications Trip, what are you talking about?"

"I know no one's commed us."

"Did Vulcan contact you directly?"

"No, no one contacted me." His hands scrubbed at his face as frustration brewed just beneath the surface.

Archer's expression turned from one of confusion to one of concern. "Trip... I don't understand."

"I can't feel her anymore." The explanation didn't seem to relieve Archer's confusion so Trip tried again. "Just listen, when Vulcans... choose their partners, the two of them form a kind of psychic link. I can always feel her, Jon. I woke up and she was gone. Somethings wrong."

Archer nodded understandingly, "Okay. How about I call Phlox? He might be able to help sort this out."

The frustration Trip had been trying so hard to keep contained exploded out of him, "Dammit Cap'n listen to me! It's not just a feeling. You of all people should understand! You carried a man's soul around in your head. I know. I know something's wrong. I need you to listen to me. I need you to contact Soval. I need to know that she's not..."

Dead.

The realization hit him like a punch to the stomach.

She could be dead.

Trips voice softened, "Please, Jon. Just call Soval. After that I'll go to sickbay and Phlox can do a damn lobotomy for all I care."

Archer sat silently before nodding solemnly. "Okay, alright. I'll call him."

Trip took a deep breath, relieved that his captain had taken him at his word. His feet found the nearest chair and he slumped onto it, suddenly exhausted. He waited anxiously as the comm beeped, reaching for a connection. When Soval's calm face finally filled the screen, Archer greeted him formally. "Ambassador, I apologize for the early call."

"Your apology is unnecessary Captain. What is the purpose of your call?"

"I'm not quite sure how to explain this, actually. Commander Tucker is concerned that something has happened to Commander T'Pol. I know she's undergoing training at the moment, but if there is any way to get a status report on her, I think it would put the Commander at ease.

There was a long pause as Sovals expression resembled what Trip had come to recognize as surprise. "I would be remiss if I didn't note the coincidence of Mr. Tucker's concern."

Archer's face fell, taking on a more concerned expression "What do you mean?"

Soval seemed conflicted, unsure if he should elaborate. After a moment he nodded slightly, "The Vulcan Embassy has been unable to contact the home world for the last six hours. Typically, this would be of little concern. There are spacial phenomena that occasionally prevent communication. However, we have border ships in place that can communicate with Vulcan directly and report back when this occurs. On this occasion we've had no contact from either. The embassy has sent the nearest ships home to investigate, but the closest one is still almost 18 hours away." Soval was quite for a moment before turning to Trip, his eyebrow arched slightly. "If I may ask, Commander, what was it exactly that prompted your concern?"

Trip glanced at Archer before responding, "I think T'Pol would consider it a private matter, Ambassador."

The Ambassador's hands came into view, steepled lightly against each other. When Soval finally spoke, his tone took on a softer quality. "I am aware of your relationship with Commander T'Pol."

Swallowing hard, Trip nodded, "I can't… feel her anymore."

When Soval didn't respond, Trip lightly tapped his head, the Vulcan's eyebrows visibly rose in recognition, "I was not aware that humans were able to... reciprocate a psychic link." Trip nodded, but added nothing. "It seems that this situation may be more serious than we originally assessed it to be. As allies of our world, rest assured that you will stay informed of the situation."

"Alright, Ambassador. If we can assist you in any way at all, don't hesitate to ask."

"Of course Captain, and Mr. Tucker," Trip nodded. "It would be illogical to assume the Commander T'Pol is dead. There is more than one reason why a bond may be severed." Trip cleared his throat before answering softly, "I uh... I appreciate that, Ambassador." Trip cleared his throat once more before adding, "Thank you."

Trip stood up as soon as the comm. channel turned black. He wanted to leave, but his feet wouldn't move. "I don't know what to do, Jon." Trip felt as his friend's hand came up to grip his shoulder, grabbing onto it for support, he took a breath. "Thank you, Jon." Archer just nodded before patting his arm gently. "I'll keep you updated. Why don't you go back to your quarters, get another couple hours sleep?" Trip nodded again before turning around and walking back to his quarters.

As soon as he got there, the room felt too empty, too quite. He didn't even try lying back down, instead he splashed some water on his face before changing into his uniform. Fifteen minutes later he found himself in engineering. He spotted Hess across the room checking some monitors. He took a swallow of the scalding coffee before walking over, "How's the systems diagnostic going?"

Hess sighed, "I had a feeling you'd show up tonight."

Trip tried to smile back, but it felt forced, "You know me," he mumbled, "couldn't sleep."

Hess nodded, seeming to understand. "I'll take you through it point by point then."

He'd known her for years, but sometimes was still shocked by how well the woman knew him. "Thank you, Anna."