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Come Twilight ch- 1Come Twilight By Nikitee Rating: NC-17, Angst
Chapter 1 She had a headache. Anaprovolin was unavailable. The headache never seemed to go away. T’Pol stared into the darkness, forcing each muscle in her face and neck to relax, trying to ease the tension that had built up throughout the day. She had wandered to the round window in the main room an hour ago, after Jonathan retired for the evening, to watch the flickering of the gas burnoff from the smelting facility in the distance: it was her only focus for mediation now. There were no bees on Ceti Alpha V (surprising, since most Menshara-class planets had some from of pollen-gathering insect), and none of the planet’s precious petroleum could be wasted to make paraffin. That distillate was needed for lubrication in the rudimentary power plants constructed by the remnants of humanity in the river valley 2.6 km from the main settlement. No, paraffin could not be spared for the luxury of soft illumination for the planet’s only Vulcan resident. Without meditation, she was exhausted. As a Vulcan, she needed little sleep, but her duties were demanding: while Jonathan was awake, she needed to be with him, to stave off the despair that always descended when he learned of his own debilitating condition, and the fate of humanity. His emotion poured over her, slammed into her, demanded response but received nothing but the resigned, stoic acknowledgement: I grieve with thee. I am with thee. Breakfast at the captain’s table had become a laborious ritual of question and answer, shock and dismay, shouting and tears. After the first year, she has become adept at reading his face as he listened to her revelations -- she could predict with 89.647 per cent certainty which of the two dozen reactions to the news would follow; she could handle him... and then guide him to some semblance of a normal life (cooking, dining, cleaning, gardening), a life that lasted for 12 hours at a stretch before he was too weary from the shock and loss to continue. He slept fitfully, restless and haunted by images that never quite formed but often caused him to cry out or sob, or bolt to the bedroom door in a cold sweat. As he slept, she worked; on Ceti Alpha V, her science background and intellect were a valuable commodity, one that almost served to overcome the prejudice she faced as both a Vulcan (“one of them, who held us back”) and as the commander of the starship that should have been their salvation, that should have stopped the Xindi weapon... so she worked into the wee hours each night designing and simulating planetary defenses, weapons, shields. She designed new ships from the hulks and spare parts of those from the fugitive fleet... all of which she passed to Captain Tucker high above on Enterprise via subspace transmission. She and Jonathan had constructed the transmitter unit together during their first month on the planet: she used it daily; he would not touch it. By morning, the flickering life and the nightmares were gone again. Jonathan did not remember the six hours they spent side-by-side weeding the vegetable garden on the rise, though he saw the blisters on his fingers and the dirt on his shoes, left outside the door. He did not remember what his companion prepared for dinner the night before, though she knew all his favorites and had schooled herself to prepare even the meat-based dishes. He did not remember that her hair was long, or that his was gray... he ultimately remembered nothing but the Expanse, the Xindi, the mission... Enterprise kept T’Pol abreast of ship’s happenings: incidents with the Xindi or other opportunists seeking revenge or exploitation of humanity, the alliances, the deaths, the births, the changes in technology. Hoshi relayed questions from Phlox, and passed her own medical updates on Jonathan on to Denobula. And then Tucker’s voice would ring out of the transmitter’s tinny speaker through T’Pol and Archer’s dim, Spartan living quarters. The former engineer always asked about Jonathan: How was he? Has there been any change, for better or worse? What did ya do today? Any interestin' stories? And always, his last question, pained and deadly serious: And you? D’ya need a hand or some company for a while? The Vulcan always answered, No. Tucker was busy with Enterprise, with defending humanity’s last outpost... she would speak with him tomorrow, when their ship was again in range. After he had asked the question every day for six months, she suddenly understood what he meant: on an open channel overheard by his crew and sometimes his best friend and former captain, Charles reminded her that he would be there when she needed her mate. Attempts at meditation were pointless tonight. It was illogical to pursue the obviously unobtainable, when no benefit was derived from the pursuit. Slowly, she turned from the darkness framed in the round window, expression blank, eyes unreadable. She rubbed her temple briefly, conscious again of the headache. Her hand was shaking as she keyed the frequency into the transmitter, and waited for his call to come through... ************* Return to the Come Twilight menu page. Have a comment to make about this story? Do so in the Trip Fan Fiction forum at the HoTBBS! Eight hardy souls have made commentsI haven't seen anything of Season 3 yet as it is not airing here in the UK but this is excellent. Has the feel of a real epic in the making, so please keep going. And Trip is T'Pol's mate? Yet they are parted so she can care for Archer? Yowzer, that has to be more pain than one heart can carry. Can't wait to read the rest, Ali D :~) Wow. That was fantastic, I can't wait for your next update. You have a beautiful writing style, lyrical, full of detail and meaning. Thank you. Beautiful! I can't wait for the next chapter! Thank you! Can't wait for more Please continue. Its very good.:):) Wonderful work. I'm glad you're working to make some sense of the mess that was that episode. Thank you :) , I am very much looking forward to the next part. Wow! I don't know that I could be as selfless as T'Pol and be without Trip for so long while being the patient rock for Archer to lean on. Ali D :~) |