Chapter Text
Chapter One
May 15, 2166
Spacecraft Merlin
Interstellar Space
“You should contact her.”
Charles Tucker III started at the touch of Devna’s hand on his shoulder. She had a way of sneaking up on him when he was brooding. He looked up at her, her deep green eyes studying him. He leaned back in his seat, sighing as he made contact with the headrest. “And say what? That the man she once knew as Trip Tucker is dead, even though his body is still alive?” Devna did not respond, but sat down across from him, slinging her legs over the armrest.
“And yet; you still refuse to allow me to take you to bed.” Her tone was neither angry or accusatory. She was right. He still could not allow himself to find solace in the arms of the beautiful woman who accompanied him. If he did, he knew that there was no chance of reconciling with T’Pol; he would be betraying the relationship that had lasted nearly a decade. And although he had lost much of his morals, he wasn’t quite ready to betray that moral. Devna knew all this of course. Maybe more than he wanted to admit.
“I’m still too ashamed to face her; I don’t know if I will ever be able to face her.”
“How is this freedom, when you are trapped by your own shame?”
Trip turned away from her to face the console he had been contemplating where Devna had found him. In the two months since they had faked their deaths to Section 31 and the Orion Syndicate, he had battled with that very question himself. Was he really free if he was consumed with guilt and shame? And what was his freedom without the woman he wanted to share it with?
XXX
May 16, 2166
U.S.S. Endeavour
T’Pol sat cross-legged in the white space that was her meditation space. It had been some time since she had seen Trip in this space, and yet a part of her hoped each time that he would be there. Two months ago, Trip had planned to falsify his demise to elude any residual Section 31 assets. However; all the evidence pointed towards Trip being captured and killed by Section 31.
With no word from Trip in the following two months, the hope that he had somehow survived was diminishing quickly.
It was not premature to write off his chances of survival; Admiral Archer had given up hope himself nearly a month ago. But T’Pol found that the emotional side of her, the one that was difficult to contain, especially when it came to her feelings for Trip; was telling her he was still alive. And if he was alive, why hadn’t he reached out to her? For not the first time T’Pol wondered if Trip had decided to start a new life that included none of his past, including their relationship. Without the bond that had connected them for years over great distances, she may never know.
*Bridge to Captain T’Pol. *
The voice of Hoshi Sato, the Endeavor’s communications officer came over the intercom in T’Pol’s quarters. T’Pol withdrew herself from the safety of the white room; and found herself in her quarters, sitting over her lit candle. Uncrossing her legs, she made her way over to her desk, pressing the comm button there. *T’Pol. *
“Admiral Archer for you, Captain.” T’Pol felt a jolt of hope spring up; a feeling that she quickly stamped down.
“I will take it in my quarters, Commander.” She was dressed in her uniform as she had not had a chance to change yet; and with a quick overlook of herself, determined that she was presentable. She noted her shaky hand that reached to turn on her monitor, and took a deep breath. Admiral Archer smiled faintly at her as his image filled the monitor.
“Good evening, Captain. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“On the contrary Admiral; you did not disturb me in the least.” T’Pol hesitated briefly. “Has there been word from Lazarus?” Archer’s smile dropped slightly. He shook his head.
“Still nothing. I’m sorry.” She nodded. She looked down at her lap, feeling the admiral’s gaze on her. After a moment, he cleared his throat. “I was actually calling with Endeavor’s next assignment.” T’Pol’s eyebrow rose in question. Archer didn’t usually call in the middle of the night for an assignment, unless it was something serious, or diplomatic in nature. “The talks on the non-intervention directive has been scheduled.” T’Pol nodded. The debate had originally been scheduled directly after the exposure of Section 31. It had been determined by the members of the Council that the debate should be rescheduled to a later date due to the volatile feelings from all members. A fair debate would have been impossible; any outcome would have been tainted by outrage or outcry. “I was hoping that I could have the Captain of my flag ship at my side during those discussions.” T’Pol tipped her head in contemplation.
“We are a month from Earth, would we be back in time?” Archer nodded.
“Yes, the talks have been scheduled for six weeks from now. Your crew would have time for some R and R too.” T’Pol nodded thoughtfully. Her crew had not had time off for some time; she had observed productivity had lowered by five percent over the last four months; especially after the conflict with the Vertians, or Mutes, as her crew seemed inclined to call them. After a brief pause, she responded,
“Very well Admiral.” Archer smiled at her.
“See you soon.” He said, and closed the channel.
T’Pol allowed herself to slouch slightly in her seat. If the Admiral was recalling his flag ship to Earth for the talks, he must be expecting the debate to go badly. She wondered what role Archer expected her to play; either as his former X.O., or as a Vulcan. She reached over to the comm, pressing the button hesitantly. *T’Pol to the bridge. *
*Bridge here, Captain. *
*We are making a change in course. *
XXXX
June 16, 2166
Starfleet Headquarters
Archer could barely focus on his notes for the debate that he had pulled up on his monitor. Endeavor was due to enter orbit within the hour, and he could not wait to speak with T’Pol. Throughout the years of their acquaintance as Captain and Commander, and now Admiral and Captain, he had relied on her opinion and sound advice. She had often espoused non-interference on Enterprise, and he wished he had listened more often. Now, in just two weeks he would have to defend that very ideal against some very strong opinions against it.
*Ensign Graves to Admiral Archer. * Archer pushed the comm on his desk.
*Archer here. *
*Endeavor has entered orbit.” Archer smiled.
*Thank you, Ensign. Please let me know when Captain T’Pol has made it safely to headquarters. *
*Acknowledged. *
XX
T’Pol stood in Admiral Archer’s office, looking slightly awkward. Archer resisted the urge to give her a hug. They hadn’t seen each other since Trip’s second death; which he wasn’t convinced hadn’t been real this time. He knew that T’Pol must be devastated, though she would never admit to it.
“T’Pol, I am so glad you are here.” He settled on finally, smiling broadly at her.
“I am still uncertain what my presence can add to the debate, Admiral.” Archer gestured to the seat in front of his desk, waited for her to take a seat, and then sat in his chair behind across from her.
“I admit, I may have abused my authority in recalling my flag ship.” T’Pol looked at him questionably, raising her eyebrow slightly. “Mainly, I wanted one of my closest friends with me during such a historic occasion.”
“And the fact that I’m Vulcan?” Archer raised his hands in mock defeat.
“That might help too. Especially since Vulcan has had a non-interference policy for years.”
“That is true, however I was not present when the non-interference policy was originally instated.” Archer laughed out loud; he had missed her dry sense of humor.
“Like I said, it might be a little of both. “
XX
June 23, 2166
San Francisco
T’Pol paused in the threshold of her groundside apartment, remembering a meeting with Trip she had in that very apartment barely two years before. They had argued that day about Section 31; T’Pol did not want them getting involved in Federation business, Trip had been far more optimistic about ‘his’ agency. She pushed the door to the apartment open, hoping that she hadn’t been proven ‘too right’ as Trip would say.
She flicked on the lights in the apartment, then rolled her shoulders slightly. She and her ship Endeavor had arrived at Earth a week ago. She had almost immediately been assigned to helping Admiral Archer prepare for the debates surrounding what he was calling a ‘prime directive,’ for Starfleet and the Federation to follow. Over the years she and Admiral Archer had developed a terse but efficient working relationship. They fell into a familiar pattern of working late into the night and disagreeing about the finer points of his argument. The Admiral seemed pleased with their progress, and, T’Pol thought, he seemed even more pleased with their disagreements. Perhaps he was feeling what humans called ‘nostalgic.’ Indeed, T’Pol herself was reminded strongly of other times they had disagreed in the past. The only thing missing was Trip, who acted as a buffer between the strong personalities of his two friends. He could usually see both of their points of views, and offer a perspective they could benefit from. That wasn’t to say that Trip didn’t have a strong personality himself; T’Pol could think of several times that they had disagreed, especially early on in their working relationship. There would be times that when they were arguing, he would approach her closely, his nose mere centimeters from hers. Even then, their relationship had been contentious. Perhaps that had spelled ruin for their relationship before it had even begun.
T'Pol walked to her window that overlooked San Francisco. She knew that there were two choices about what happened to Trip. Either his death had been far more real than she was ready to acknowledge or accept, or he was alive, and for some reason was choosing not to contact her. T’Pol tried to school herself to calm, but the struggle against fear was becoming increasingly difficult. If he was alive, why had he not reached out to her? She knew she was an important person to him, or at least she thought she was. Perhaps she had been mistaken about his feelings for her. What if without their bond Trip could not resist the attractions of Devna, the Orion slave girl he had recruited to help his cause. Despite herself, T’Pol shivered, although her apartment temperature was set at an acceptable degree for a Vulcan. If her mate had shared his body with another… she could not complete the thought. She wrapped her arms tightly around her upper body. It had been illogical to believe that this relationship could be sustained.
She had been illogical, maintaining a relationship with a human over the last decade, mostly clandestinely. Maybe this was a less painful, more natural way for their relationship to come to an end. T’Pol hugged her arms tighter around herself. She and Trip had not planned past the immediate short term, his ‘living in the moment’ philosophy. That might have been a blessing in disguise. They had not planned the long-term future of their relationship. There had been several times over the years that their relationship could have come to an end, but the bond between them had always brought them back together. This could be a clean break off, something that was unachievable before.
T’Pol sighed slightly, her chest rising and falling gently. This was all speculation, there was no proof either way. He might be dead, in a realer sense than ever before. In the past she had felt certain about things regarding Trip, and although she had no proof, she felt certain he was alive, that was all she knew. If he was living his life without her, perhaps it was time she began living her life without him. That was a prospect she had never contemplated before, except for the brief time she thought he had died when he faked his death for Section 31. Then, as now, she felt anguish over living without Trip. She gulped, attempting to stomp down her emotions. It was not easy for her to contemplate life without him, was it easy for him to plan a life without her? T’Pol closed her eyes, attempting to even her breathing. She opened her eyes slowly, contemplating the city beneath her. Unbidden, tears began silently rolling down her cheeks.