First Light - Part 4

First Light

by HopefulRomantic

Rating: PG-13, except for Chapter 14, which is rated R for sexual situations.
Disclaimer: see Part I.
Series Summary: The Reconnecting series is a reinterpretation of certain events of Season 4 that went AU shortly after “Home.” It focuses on the relationships of Trip and T’Pol and their extended family, and features characters introduced in Season 3, as well as original characters.

A/N: Thanks to the Enterprise Relaunch novel The Good That Men Do, there is new background material available that renders some details of the Reconnecting-verse inconsistent. Rather than change those details in midstream to line up with the Relaunch, I’ll stick with what I have and happily dub those elements AU from now on.

Thanks to betas boushh, Stephanie, Jenna, and TJ for their input.

Date: 3-23-07

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part IV (Chapters 13-16 and Epilogue)

Chapter Thirteen: Jhamel

Gareb was trapped, enclosed in a stifling blackness that had nothing to do with being sightless. His hands were bound, each finger trussed separately, the confining lanyards trailing away. He couldn’t move—he could hardly breathe. His only companions were evil and death. He felt alone, so alone.

Jhamel? he called into the darkness. Help me!...

-- -- --

Jhamel woke with a start, her breath coming in panicked gasps.

Lissan was with her, holding her hand. It was only a dream. The older woman’s voice was soft and soothing in Jhamel’s mind. You’re safe now.

Jhamel gripped Lissan’s steady hand, trying to calm herself. She had been suffering terrible nightmares about her brother ever since his disappearance. Gareb would always be confined in some way, unable to break free. Jhamel felt such hopelessness from him, such black despair. But the dreams—they all seem so real, she protested.

Lissan regarded her with faint reproach. Jhamel, you are a woman grown, but you sound like a frightened child.

Jhamel set her jaw stubbornly. Do you remember when I was a child, and I saw the vision of that boy who had wandered to the surface before the ice storm struck? My mother said then that I had the Gift.

Lissan refrained from comment, but Jhamel felt the older woman’s patient admonishment nonetheless. Jhamel persisted, Perhaps Gareb is still alive somewhere. Maybe he’s trapped in a forgotten cave, living off redbats, unable to summon help.

Your dreams are your fears talking to you. Lissan gave her a reassuring smile. Be at peace about Gareb. Look to the future, rather than dwelling on the past. She eased Jhamel back down into the bed, then quietly withdrew.

Jhamel lay back, trying to calm herself with thoughts of her future. In a few short months, the community would select the three shelthreth bondmates with whom she was most compatible, and the quad would be joined together in a joyful ceremony, ensuring the continuation of the small, fragile Aenar race. But Jhamel could find no comfort or sleep. The image of Gareb was still too vivid in her mind.

Finally she abandoned her restless attempts to sleep and rose, entering the winding passageways. She didn’t know where she was going at first; she simply let her instincts guide her. Soon she found herself down by the frozen lake where she and Gareb had last spent time together. She stood at the edge of the silver-blue expanse, her memories hanging in the air around her like a frosty mist, giving her no feeling of warmth or safety. The lake felt forbidding now.

Plaintively, Jhamel reached out with her mind. Brother, are you here? she asked the frigid stillness. Did the lake claim you? She imagined Gareb at the bottom, wrapped in the claustrophobic forever-cold of death, and she shivered. Have you been close by all these months, almost close enough for me to touch, yet so alone?

The only reply she received was silence. The cave was vast, but she felt as though the walls were closing in on her. Quickly, she turned and hurried out of the oppressive place. She needed to be with the others.

As she wound her way through the tunnels that led toward home, Jhamel sensed that her unsettling dreams would follow her. Sleep might come eventually...but there would be no rest, nor escape from her solitude, until she knew the truth about Gareb’s fate.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chapter Fourteen: Karyn

The first sensation Karyn felt as she awakened was Lorian’s mind entwined with hers, as if they had always been connected, and always would be. As she became more aware of the physical world, she felt his arms around her, his warmth against her, the feel of his heartbeat pulsing at the small of her back and resonating inside her through the bond.

She had dropped off to sleep a little while ago, gloriously spent, spooned in her new husband’s embrace after a night of endless hunger and infinite satisfaction, of being joined together, body, mind, and soul. She had never experienced anything like it. The desire of pon farr without the madness, Lorian had said to describe it. Karyn smiled as a shiver of remembered pleasure rippled through her. Reflexively, she pushed back against him.

He sighed softly as he nestled in more closely, nuzzling her hair. She felt his lips on the back of her neck, feather-light...and below, she felt him hardening against her.

She pulled his hands up to her breasts and held them there. Lazily, he fondled her, his fingers tracing light, teasing circles. It felt wonderful. Slowly, she began rubbing her backside against him. She felt a tremor of desire shudder through him as he held her more firmly.

His breathing remained slow and even, and the subtle current she felt from him through the bond didn’t increase. He was still asleep. The realization aroused her even more.

Smiling to herself, she reached back with one hand, running her fingertips along the sensitive edge of his ear. She heard an answering groan of need from him, low in his throat, fanning the bond to life.

With a soft moan of anticipation, she reached down and guided him inside her. He gasped, flaring to consciousness in her mind. His grip on her tightened as she felt his hunger awakening fully. Then he was making love to her, slow and deep, caressing her with his hands and mind. She lay her head back against his shoulder, luxuriating in the feel of him as he pleasured her.

Through the bond, she could sense his desire as well as her own, building as they moved together. He brought his legs up under hers, cradling her as he carried her higher. As their breath quickened together, he nuzzled her throat, his touch like liquid fire on her skin.

She felt them both rising, floating free, then bursting as one into ecstasy. With an exultant cry, she clutched onto him as she bucked in his embrace, trapped in his lap, feeling the force of his release through every part of her being—the sheer joy of communion, the unbridled rapture, the oneness of minds and hearts intermingling through the bond.

They settled back to solid ground together, still in each other’s arms. Karyn felt deliciously warm and sated, and from the pleasant thrum of the bond, she knew Lorian was in the same agreeably satisfied state.

“To what do I owe this memorable awakening, beloved?” he murmured.

She looked coyly over her shoulder at him. “Blame the bond.”

He arched an eyebrow playfully. “Thank it, you mean.”

She shifted in his embrace, turning to face him. “I have to hand it to the Vulcans. This mating bond must work like gangbusters for helping two emotionally repressed strangers to get past those first awkward moments of newlyweddedness and become more...intimately acquainted.”

“For a people accustomed to suppressing emotions, the bond is a logical necessity,” he agreed.

She pulled him on top of her. “But do they ever realize how much fun it is?”

Lorian brushed his lips against her temple. “I would think each couple discovers the bond’s advantages in due time.”

As she settled back, losing herself in him again, Karyn smiled mischievously. They must be so surprised...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chapter Fifteen: Kyle

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when Kyle got to the club. She’d never been here at such a godawful early hour before today, but she’d given up trying to sleep. She had spent the night lying in bed, thinking about Jon...remembering the feel of his hand as he caressed her cheek, the warmth of his beautiful green eyes as he smiled at her, the taste of him as he kissed her. Just thinking about it made her tingle all over...and she couldn’t help fantasizing about where it might lead. Her bed had never felt so huge and empty, and sleep had been utterly impossible.

She could still hardly believe it had happened.

Squinting into the harsh early morning sunlight as she climbed out of her groundcar, Kyle could almost convince herself that it had been a lovely dream. If anyone had told her twenty-four hours ago that Jonathan Archer, Hero of the Xindi War, savior of humanity, would be looking at her like that...kissing her like that...

Ohhh, she was going to be useless today.

Paperwork. She would do paperwork. Boss hated it anyway.

She was surprised to find workmen swarming all over the façade of the club, removing the windows. Had there been another vandalism attack after she had gone home last night? She hadn’t left until after 2:30 a.m....

She tracked down the foreman, who was unloading pristine sheets of—holy hell, Callahan had finally gone and sprung for glassteel. Kyle wondered what had changed his mind.

“Good morning,” she greeted the foreman. “I’m Miss MacMillan, Mr. Callahan’s assistant.”

The foreman pulled off his glove to shake her hand. “Morning, ma’am. I’m Sully.”

Kyle pointed to the glassteel windows. “Did he call you last night about these? I would’ve thought they’d be special-order.”

“They are, ma’am. An average job takes two weeks to fill, but this was a red-flag.” The foreman reached inside his truck and pulled out a clipboard of paperwork. “The work order specified a twenty-four-hour turnaround.”

Kyle was mystified. Callahan didn’t have pull with any of these glassteel suppliers, or he would have installed the stuff months ago. “Who placed the order?”

Sully scanned the top sheet. “Let’s see...order received yesterday, 10 July, 11:42 am...oh, there’s a notation here from the purchaser. ‘Compliments of J. Archer’.” The foreman broke into a grin. “Holy shit—Jonathan Archer? The Jonathan Archer?”

Kyle drew in a soft breath. Oh my God. Jon must have called in the order as soon as he left the club yesterday, on his way back to Enterprise to get ready for Lorian and Karyn’s wedding. The man had been busy.

To the foreman, she said smoothly, “I trust I can count on your discretion in this matter, Sully?”

“Yeah,” the man said quickly. “Yeah, sure.” As he paged through the paperwork, he shook his head, still smiling to himself. “Holy shit, Jonathan Archer... Wait, there’s something else.” He pulled a paper out from the bottom of the pile and handed it to Kyle. “A personal note was added to the work order last night.”

As Kyle read the note, she smiled.

Callahan,
You didn’t say I couldn’t.
—J.A.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chapter Sixteen: Catherine

Catherine woke as she felt Chuck stirring beside her. He opened his eyes and smiled sleepily. “G’mornin’, Beautiful.”

She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “G’mornin’, hon.”

He frowned faintly. “I had the strangest dream.”

“Oh?”

“Mmm.” He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “That Vulcan woman on Enterprise, the one who’s been driving Jon nuts ever since they launched...I dreamed that she’n Trip were married, if you can believe it.” He chuckled.

Catherine squinted at her husband. He didn’t look as if he were joking.

“They had a son, too.” Chuck stifled a yawn. “But he wasn’t a little boy—he was grown up, older’n we are, because he was from the past—and the future. At the same time. I didn’t really understand that part of the dream.” He frowned faintly for a moment, then shrugged. “He was married, too...to Jon’s great-granddaughter. She was from the future-past place, too, see. Oh, and get this—Ambassador Cranky was nice.” He stretched. “Screwiest dream I ever had. I can’t believe my little pea brain came up with it.”

Catherine stared at him. He was straight-faced, pensively scratching his chin, looking perfectly sincere. Could it be that he actually thought...? “Uh...hon...” she began carefully, “I hate to tell you this, but...” She faltered and stopped, not quite sure how to continue.

Chuck broke into a snicker. “Aw hell, I tried. But your face—it’s priceless.”

She grabbed her pillow and started whaling on him. “Charles Anthony Tucker Junior, you should be ashamed!”

Laughing, Chuck caught her by the wrist and disarmed her. Plumping the down-filled weapon, he tucked it behind his head. “C’mon, Cath, it might as well be a dream. If I tried to tell anyone what we found out over the last twenty-four hours, they’d think I was certifiable.”

Catherine sat up, arms folded, and regarded him through indignantly narrowed eyes. “Lucky for you it’s all Top Secret, so the necessity of keeping your trap shut will spare you from being carted off to the loony bin.”

Chuck smiled sweetly at her. “I guess you’re still stuck with me, then.”

“So how’s the baptism of fire coming along?” she asked.

His tongue lolled in his cheek. “I’m still not ready to hold hands around the campfire and sing Kum-Bay-Yah with the whole Vulcan race yet. But seeing those xenophobes hollering outside Starfleet yesterday was...” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“Scary?” She studied him in silence for a moment. “You never sounded like that, you know.”

He seemed subdued. “It doesn’t matter whether I did or not.” He smiled wanly. “Fortunately for my ego, the Vulcans at the embassy acted pretty stupid about Lorian. I wonder if they realize how much they look like ‘phobes themselves. Or whether they even care.”

“Maybe this Reformation Jon and Soval were talking about will make a difference,” Catherine mused. “I mean...if Vulcans think it’s logical to change, they’ll change.”

Chuck snorted doubtfully.

“It’s more than you can say for most humans,” Catherine pointed out.

“Trip and T’Pol are gonna have a rough time no matter who we’re talkin’ about, hon,” Chuck said flatly. “As soon as they go public, they’ll catch hell. They’ll be targets.”

Catherine knew he was right, and it troubled her. “They’ll handle it,” she said firmly, sounding more confident than she felt. “He’s a Tucker, after all. T’Pol will be too, soon enough.” She fiddled restlessly with her wedding ring. “I just hope that this Starfleet board sees sense and keeps them both on Enterprise. I’d hate for them to be separated.”

Chuck pulled her down beside him, putting a reassuring arm around her. “Don’t fret about that, darlin’,” he said calmly. “If there’s anything I’ve learned in the last day, it’s that no matter what happens, they’ll be together, because of that bond of theirs.”

Catherine glanced up at him, surprised by how easily the words came to him. Chuck was settled back against his pillow, eyes shut in peaceful repose. Maybe everything was finally starting to make sense to him.

...Or maybe he was just falling asleep again.

He cracked one eye open. “Not exactly the thickhead you were expecting me to be this morning, am I?”

She broke into a baffled smile. “Now that you mention it...”

He shrugged and replied sagely, “We all have room for enlightenment.”

She felt his forehead. “Are you sick or something?”

Chuck gave her a look of exaggerated affront. “Hey!”

Now it was Catherine’s turn to chortle. “Priceless.”

He looked heavenward in defeat. “I’ll get you for that.”

She snuggled contentedly against him again. “Seriously, hon, you give me hope. If you’ve turned into a fan of Vulcan bonding, miracles are possible.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Epilogue

0900 hours

First Officer’s Quarters
NX-01 Enterprise
Orbiting Earth

Trip blinked awake as he heard the soft chime of T’Pol’s alarm. With a sigh, he rolled over...and landed unceremoniously on the deck. “Ow!”

A moment later, he saw T’Pol looking down at him over the edge of her bunk. “Are you injured, t’hai’la?”

“Only my dignity.” Trip felt his naked tailbone gingerly. “We need a bigger bed.”

“Agreed.” T’Pol sat up, swinging her legs gracefully over the side of the bunk. “However, though Koss released me from our marriage, it would be disrespectful for me to adopt the trappings of cohabitation with another man before the divorce has been officially acknowledged by the Vulcan Social Ministry.”

Trip couldn’t help feeling a little dejected. “It might end up being a moot point anyway, if Starfleet transfers one of us off Enterprise.”

“It is our objective to persuade Starfleet not to do so.” T’Pol slid off the bed and sat beside Trip, giving him a look of gentle remonstrance. “It would be illogical to presume defeat before we have even made our case to the Board of Inquiry.”

He regarded her skeptically. “You know those policy wonks are allergic to change. If they decide we don’t fit into one of their ticky-tacky little compartments, that’s it.”

T’Pol appeared serenely undeterred. “As Captain Archer said, our task will not be an easy one. It may take time to accomplish. But its difficulty makes it no less valid or vital—for us, and those who will follow us.”

That made him smile a little. “You think there’ll be other Vulcans and humans crazy enough to want to make a life with each other?”

Placidly, she nodded. “It is inevitable that there will be others who will rejoice in the differences between our two peoples, in the same way that we rejoice in each other.” Lightly, she cradled his cheek, and he felt the bond whispering to him in welcome. “And if we must be physically parted for a time while we convince Starfleet of the obvious, remember that we will never truly be separated.”

Trip drew her into a warm embrace. He felt a soft undercurrent of reassurance from her, dissolving away his lingering concern. “Thanks, darlin’.”

T’Pol pulled away, her eyes sparkling. “There is another consideration that may operate in our favor. At Admiral Forrest’s memorial yesterday, Ambassador Soval implied that you and I exemplified the goal they both shared: humans and Vulcans working together as equal allies. It may be in Starfleet’s best interest to keep us together as a visible representation of the formal alliance now being negotiated between our two worlds.”

“You and me—poster children for the alliance?” Trip cocked his head thoughtfully. “Wouldn’t that be a kick in the pants.” At her frown of confusion, he translated. “A charge. A thrill. A good thing.”

She looked uncertain. “If you say so.”

He chuckled and got to his feet, drawing her up with him, and started for the bathroom. “We’d better get in the shower. We don’t want to miss our command performance.”

T’Pol pulled him firmly to a halt. “If we shower together, t’hai’la, we will most assuredly be late.” She gently disentangled him, ignoring his moan of protest. “I suggest that while you wait, you consider the topics of discussion that might best be brought up at the Board of Inquiry.” She gave him a soft kiss on the nose before proceeding on alone.

Trip watched her lovely rear view appreciatively as she entered the bathroom. “In a sec,” he murmured. “After I’m done rejoicing...”

~~end~~

To return to Part III, go to the First Light menu separation page to access the version appropriate for you.

A sequel to this story follows in Redivivus

Return to The Reconnecting Series menu page

Back to Fan Fiction Main Menu

Have a comment to make about this story? Do so in the Trip Fan Fiction forum at the HoTBBS!