Spacecraft Merlin

Interstellar Space

June 26th 2166

Trip stared blankly at his hands, his head bowed; he knew tears were rolling down his cheeks, but he didn't have the willpower to wipe them away. He had tried for months to push these feelings away, to embrace his freedom, to help Devna embrace her own freedom. His 'living in the moment' philosophy. Unbidden, a sardonic smirk crossed his features. T'Pol had not been overly supportive of that particular philosophy; and, frustratingly, it appeared she had been right, as usual. His chest started heaving in silent sobs at the thought of T'Pol. God, how he missed her; the frustrating, brilliant, beautiful woman that had been his reason for holding on throughout the years; his conscience, always there in the back of his mind. He missed the constant presence of her; the bond that had connected them over light years had never recovered after T'Pol had almost been forced into a mind-meld. The bond had always tied him back to his real life, the life he had so desperately wanted back; the life he had come to realize he could never reclaim. That realization had come two and a half months ago, when he'd faked his death for a second time. That's when he knew that Trip Tucker had died. He had to forge a new life, and he had tried to convince himself it had to on his own, at least for now.

He tried to believe that he could survive without T'Pol's presence, he could almost force himself to believe it. But he found himself reaching out for her in his mind unconsciously, like reaching out for a lifeline, and finding his hands empty. Her presence had been like white noise in his head for so many years; a noise that was easy to ignore until it was gone. Empty silence painfully filled the void, growing deeper and encompassing over the weeks. He had tried to ignore it; that pain, thought he could push through it until he was worthy of her again. But it had only been two and a half months, and he felt no closer to being worthy of her, and the pain had only grown more and more every day. Would he ever feel worthy of her again? He wasn't sure; but he did feel certain that the pain would kill him long before he felt like he deserved T'Pol again.

He knew that Devna had realized long before he had; probably from the moment the words had first left his mouth. She asked him then about the woman he loved, and if he was going to contact her. Trip had given her some vague answer, but she knew his true, hidden answer. She knew his answer every time she brought up her offer and he declined. Devna had a way about her of knowing people's true feelings, their hidden dreams, and desires. It was a helpful skill to have in a ship mate, unless that shipmate used that skill on a man who was trying to avoid thinking and talking about those hidden feelings. Suddenly, he felt hands on his shoulders, massaging them, he shook himself into a state of awareness. Trip brushed the hands off his shoulders, wiping his eyes quickly, keeping his head bowed as he did so. "I told you to stop doing that." He said it briskly, but there was no sting in his voice. The hands slipped off his shoulders slowly, and Devna chuckled mirthlessly. He heard her take a few steps back from him.

"For someone who doesn't feel worthy of their true love, you continue to be resistant to my administrations." This conversation was a familiar one, although they tended to be brief. Trip sighed, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip slightly, he could taste the salt from his tears. There were a few ways he could direct this conversation. He either could completely ignore Devna, or he could do just as she had suggested over the last few months and finally let her comfort him, or he could finally open up to one of the few people in the universe that understood him. He took a deep quaky breath, feeling slightly embarrassed at the obvious emotion in that breath. For a former spy he could not hid his feelings for T'Pol from anyone or anything

"You know why." Trip said. He could feel the tears building in his eyes again, and felt his throat becoming thick with unwanted emotion. Maybe if he didn't look up at Devna, he could prevent the tears from escaping down his cheeks. "I can't betray her like that." He whispered, freezing as the words came out. He hadn't meant to say that, and yet he couldn't find it in himself to regret saying it. Trip kept his back to Devna; he wasn't even sure she was still in the room. After a long moment he heard light footsteps approaching him. He didn't look up until Devna sat down across from him and grabbed his right hand. Trip was about to protest at the contact, but when he glanced up and caught Devna's deep green eyes, he realized the look in her eyes was not sexual in nature. Her eyes roamed over his face; and he suddenly realized how he must look, like a deranged man with a red, tear-streaked face. Devna held a steady gaze on him, and when she began speaking, her tone was gentle.

"Trip, how is this freedom? We are still both slaves to our circumstances." This was also a topic of discussion lately. Trip wanted to roll his eyes at her, but the sincerity in her voice made him bite back a retort. She squeezed his hand gently. "This is no way to live. We haven't even touched ground for more than a few hours." Trip lowered his eyes. She was right, he knew. Where was the freedom he had spouted? Harris no longer told him what to do, where to go, which innocent civilizations to be sacrifice for the Federation; and yet he still had no control over the direction of his life. If this current existence could be called a life. He sighed, and ran a hand over his face guiltily.

"Look, what do you want me say? At least we're making decisions for ourselves. No one is looking for us, we are the masters of our own fate." It sounded subdued even to him, and he could tell it fell as flatly as it was delivered. Devna withdrew her hand from his slowly.

"If you actually believe that, you really are insane." She paused. "Or stupid." Trip could not prevent the light chuckle that escaped. It sounded foreign, like a long-forgotten language; he could almost smile at the extraneous thought he had of needing Hoshi to translate it.

"Maybe I am." Trip said quietly, pulling his hands to his lap and playing idly with them. Devna could reach into his very brain and pull out the thoughts he wanted to keep hidden. He was a coward; a coward who ran away from his problems, faked his death, and couldn't reach out to the woman he loved because he couldn't face her judgment. Couldn't face the look on her face as she lost the last bit of faith she had in him. He couldn't take the heartbreak of losing her for good this time. His chest began heaving silently; he couldn't prevent the sobs that emanated from him. He felt Devna's hand on his face, and for a crazy flash of a moment he wondered if this was when he was finally going to give in. To let Devna comfort him in the way she did best. Even as that thought flashed across his mind, he recoiled from her touch. Devna smiled gently at him and withdrew her hand.

"I think it's time we went our separate ways. I remember you saying there's an inhabited planet two or three days from here. I think I'd like to try to find my new life there." Trip almost felt ashamed at the relief that swept through his body.

"It's a good planet to start again on. Got lots of cities, lots of opportunities." He said quietly, to his lap. It was true; it was the kind of planet that as a young Starfleet officer he would have been chomping at the bit to explore. It had various land masses, and served as a trading post in the sector with a variety of suppliers. It was the perfect place for someone looking to fade away into the crowd. Someone like him.

"I know what you're thinking. You're thinking you should slink off to the shadows, like you're so good at doing." Trip flinched. T'Pol had accused of a similar thing in a fight over his involvement in Section 31, and the fluxing state of their relationship. That fight had been the beginning; it led to the sacrifice of Suria, and was the catalyst of the realization that he didn't really know the agency he worked for. "But that would be a mistake." Trip looked up; his gaze blurry from tears that clung stubbornly to his eyelashes. He wiped at them furiously.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" Devna rolled her eyes, put her elbows on her thighs, and then put her chin in her hands.

"That you wouldn't last more than a week tops, on that planet, or any other planet for that matter." She held up an elegant finger to shush him as he opened his mouth in protest. "Oh, I'm sure you could fit in just fine, find a job, live a life that no one remembers, blend in, and die a forgettable death. But you'd be torturing yourself with the could have beens." She paused briefly, her eyes meeting his with intensity. "What your children could have looked like, what kind of life you could have lived, what kind of happiness and memories you could have had, if only you hadn't been a coward." She raised her eyebrows at him, silently challenging him to protest. Trip wanted to argue, wanted to get his ire raised at being called a coward, but could not find it in himself; especially because he agreed with her. Devna nodded at his silence. "That's what I thought." Trip raised his hands in desperate exasperation.

"Fine. What's your suggestion?" Trip glared at her, hopefully sending the clear message that he wasn't in the mood for her usual suggestion that included a bed. Devna laughed lightly at his glare, took her elbows off her knees, and shrugged slightly.

"Stop moping, and skip this whole 'I have to prove myself' thing. If she loves you as much as you clearly love her," She gave Trip a probing look, "she would rather know you're alive and be angry with you, than not know if you're dead or alive." Trip played with his hands, weaving his fingers together. He knew how hurt T'Pol had been the first time he had faked his death and had waited to tell her. It had taken time for them to rebuild their relationship, although he wasn't certain it had ever really ended, no matter how much they had tried to tell themselves it had. He remembered how angry she had been at him for not trusting her with his first faked death. But even then, he had felt and seen her relief that his death had been a ruse. Theirs had always been a contentious relationship, and yet an unshakable undercurrent of love had created the bedrock of their relationship; unseen, but constant and secure. He knew what Devna was asking him and he ran through the thought quickly in his mind; if T'Pol had done what he had done, would he still love her, would he want to know if she was still alive? There was no hesitation in his answer; why did he doubt hers? As he contemplated how to answer Devna, she put her hands on either side of her on her seat, pushing herself up. "I'll leave you to it."

"To what?" Devna was walking past his chair when he asked this question, and she playfully shoved him, causing him to sway slightly. Trip smiled at that, before turning serious again as he contemplated the console in front of him. He knew what Devna was leaving him to do. He could hear her footsteps fade away towards what he assumed were her quarters. She was probably going there to start packing for her new life. He wanted to join in her packing for that new life; to forget everyone and everything that linked him to his old life.

Trip cursed Devna's skills of perception and her insight into his psyche. She was right, he knew. He had the skills to blend in and survive in new environments, a helpful carry over from the spy business; but he wasn't exactly skilled at hiding the fact that he was pining away for someone. What was he waiting for? A lightning strike? He rubbed his chin thoughtfully; no he thought, he was waiting for a meeting in that blinding white space. A place where he could meet with T'Pol, explain everything, and feel the things she kept hidden from him in the physical world. He longed for the white space where he could tell her everything, and if she reacted badly, could withdraw to the real world. He knew it was ridiculous, they hadn't met in that space in a long time, but he couldn't shake the feeling. Maybe it was because they hadn't had to rely on only words and possible misunderstandings since their days together on Enterprise. It was a terrifying, immobilizing thought; what if he explained everything, and he lost her, for good this time? There would be no safety of the white space, no meetings to explain, just silence. If he was going to be truly honest with himself that was why he had not reached out yet. He ran a hand through his hair, bowing his head slightly. That was the real question, wasn't it? Was it better to not know and torture himself with what could have beens, or face the possibility that she didn't love him enough to understand? A battle raged within him for what felt like hours, waves of guilt, shame, rage, and fear crashing and receding. Finally, he felt a break in the clouds, and saw a silver of sun pouring through.

Trip saw his hands on the console's keys before he was conscious of moving them. As he opened covert channels, he wondered what he was going to do. His fingers worked the keys quickly, encrypting and double encrypting a message that he hadn't even written in his mind yet. For the first time in weeks he felt something he thought he had lost; hope. He concentrated on the screen in front of him, finding the words pouring out of him almost too quickly for his fingers to catch up. When his vision was covered with a thin layer of excess moisture, he blinked quickly. Now that he had made a decision he couldn't afford to change his mind. He was determined to send this out before he lost his nerve. The message was three sentences long.

*This is Lazarus.

Need to talk

If willing, meet on same channel in one week.*

As Trip hit the send button, he noted the trembling in his fingers. He sighed loudly and sank into the seat. There was nothing to do now except wait. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.