Fragile- Part 7

Fragile Universe
An "Enterprise" story

Written by Alison M. DOBELL
RATING: PG-13
ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.
FEEDBACK: Welcomed
EMAIL: AlisonMDobell@aol.com
WEBSITE: http://carlajane.50megs.com/Ali00.html

SUMMARY: "T'Pol returns to Vulcan. Commander Tucker continues to recover. Their mutual friends have some soul searching to do of their own."
DISCLAIMER: The usual disclaimers apply. The characters and 'Enterprise' are the property of Paramount. No infringement of copyright is intended.

Part Seven

"DESTINY"

* * * * *

He awoke slowly. A golden light warming the inside of his eyelids. He could feel something cool dancing over his skin, lulling him and calming him as he returned to consciousness. Only movement hurt. And with the pain came memories. A touch on his shoulder presaged words uttered gently against one ear. The warm breath strangely soothing. "Sssh, do not move quickly, Senisa."

He tried to open his eyes but they were sticky and the lids seemed sealed down. Sar noticed his difficulty and gently bathed his closed lids. The tears that had wept blood stained his soft cloth. Gently he dabbed the swollen face then leaned back to watch him. Trip managed to open his eyes. Saw the former Siminarial Guard kneeling on the bed beside him. "Where am I, Sar?"

A smile broke over solemn lips. "Honouring my house."

"Your house?" He asked in a puzzled tone.

"Yes, Senisa. We are in the Substrata. Because of your intercession I am a free man."

He paused to let that wonderful fact sink in. Trip managed to widen his eyes to half-open, his battered face breaking out in a smile that shot pain through him but was worth it for the happiness he felt for his friend. "I am glad, Sar. No one deserves their freedom more."

"Except you, Senisa."

Trip tried to lick his lips but his mouth was numb, his tongue felt thick and heavy. Awkward as if it did not belong in his mouth. Sar noticed and reached for a bowl of cool water then gently lathed the cooling drops from his fingers to the parched and swollen mouth. Heaven. The coolness was a dream come true. Such simple pleasures, such heartfelt joy in them. "Thank you, my friend."

He was pleased when Sar did not correct him but accepted the term as the gift it was.

"What happened? My recollection's kinda fuzzy, Sar."

Sar told him all that had taken place. Filling in the gaps to the Commander's memory. He told him with quiet pride of the Prince Regent granting Trip's request to be permitted to make a vow. Sar's release from service. Permission for them to leave together. Naturally Sar had brought him to his home. Welcomed him into his family. When the big man finished he gently brushed back a stray lock of damp hair from Trip's face, careful not to put any pressure however slight upon the bruises. Trip sighed and closed his eyes. "I feel as if I've been run over by a fleet of trucks."

"Trucks?"

Trip opened his eyes. "Yeah. Metal vehicles that run on wheels over land."

Sar nodded. His face became grave. "The bruises and cuts will heal, Senisa."

Trip was watching him closely, knowing the man too well to miss the fact that he was not being told everything. "But?"

"You have a punctured lung."

"I do?"

"Yes."

"How'd that happen?"

"Those who attacked you hit you with many different things. Fists, iron bars, whatever they could grab hold of."

"Oh."

"One of them had a knife."

Trip closed his eyes. The stabbing pain. He remembered it now though memory was a crazy swirl of sluggish motion in his tired brain. He felt a light cool touch on his face and opened his eyes to find Sar gently rubbing ointment into his skin. The slick gel was a relief even though little tremors of pain made him flinch and wince. He tried to mask it knowing that his friend would blame himself for any hurt or discomfort he suffered. Then he felt the heavy fur being lifted off him. He turned his head and stared into a set of golden eyes flecked with hazel. A heart shaped face displayed the delicate features of a female of the species. "Ya must be the lady of the house?"

She smiled and dipped her head slightly in acknowledgement. "My name is An-aga."

"Ann what?"

He heard Sar chuckle deeply behind him. The hands that anointed his face now sliding down his neck to coat the bruises where one of his assailants had tried to strangle him. He was so sore. And so damned tired but it was a piece of Heaven to be in the care of people such as these. He did not want to drift off back to sleep and miss a second. There were so many things he wanted to know. So much he had to say to them. To thank them for. But his eyes were traitors and his body took his consciousness prisoner. So much for waking refreshed and renewed. It seemed the battered body had acquired a mind of its' own and it wasn't his. A tiny sigh drifted from his swollen lips. Eyes closed, the weight of staying open too much for him. He vaguely felt cool hands on his chest. The gel easing the dull constant ache of pain that wracked him. The pull of darkness blocking out the light that called to him. Voices sifting softly through his senses urging him to rest. To sleep. To embrace the gift while others watched over him.

* * * * *

Lt. Malcolm Reed was furious. The Captain was surprised at his vehemence. The Denobulan doctor was not. He had surmised quite early on in their mission the boundaries of the Englishman's honour. He could see that he was offended by the way in which his Captain had handled the situation though in truth the Captain could have done no different. This was not his mess; it was T'Pol's.

"Lieutenant, you must understand. Sub-Commander T'Pol is betrothed to Koss."

"She called it off sir; you said so."

"That is not entirely correct, Lieutenant." Interjected the doctor with quiet calm.

The Captain frowned. "You *knew* about it?"

He shook his head, his manner one of sadness. "No, Captain, but from what you have related to me the Sub-Commander should have returned to Vulcan and ensured the marriage contract was properly annulled. Simply refusing to return to complete her marriage arrangements to Koss did not fulfill either obligation. In blunt terms Captain, she ran away."

"Don't you think that's a little harsh, doctor?" Said the Captain. Trying to sound neutral.

Dr. Phlox shrugged. "I am simply stating what happened, Captain. The Sub-Commander is reaping what she has sown. As much as I have sympathy for her situation there had to have been a better way to ensure a more welcome outcome."

Lt. Reed bristled at the implied criticism of one who was not present to defend herself. "That's rubbish, if you don't mind my saying so doctor."

The doctor was not in least offended. In fact something sparkled in his eyes at the Lieutenant's ready defense of the now absent Science Officer. He could only imagine how much more volatile Commander Tucker would have been. Yes. That was one reaction he would have queued for days to witness.

An awkward little silence fell. Only the doctor seemed comfortable. Lt. Reed looked from the Captain to the doctor. "What will happen to the Sub-Commander?"

"T'Pol and Koss will complete their betrothal, return to Vulcan and marry."

"No, Captain, that's not what I meant." Cut in the Armoury Officer tersely.

The doctor raised his head a little and nodded in understanding. "Ah, the Pon Farr." He paused knowing that what he was about to say would offer no comfort to his Human companions at all. "Depending on how long Koss has been in Pon Farr, he will need to complete the mating and bonding rituals as soon as possible. The longer he has left it the less....control.... he will have."

Lt. Reed seized on the incongruous word. "Control? What do you mean? Are you saying Koss will *rape* the Sub-Commander?"

"Rape is too strong a word, Lieutenant. Do not forget, the Sub-Commander submits to this willingly."

He did not understand. Glancing at Captain Archer he noted the Captain would not meet his eyes. He obviously felt a burden of shame even though none of these events had anything to do with him. The Lieutenant however could not hold back his own mix of anger and sorrow. He was the Armoury Officer for God's sake. He was supposed to protect them. "This is wrong."

"It is the Vulcan way." Said the doctor simply. Not judging just stating a fact.

"But it is *not* our way and nothing will convince me that the Sub-Commander went willingly."

The Captain frowned. "I can assure you Lieutenant...."

"The Lieutenant was not criticising your Captaincy."

"I can speak for myself thank you, doctor." He was not angry with the doctor or the Captain just bloody frustrated. He could not believe that they had allowed one of their crew to leave the safety of Enterprise and enter the nefarious world of Vulcan mating practices. The Sub-Commander might be older than her human counterparts but in many ways she was still quite naive. He could not shake the memory of that look on her face when Koss had first appeared on the screen. The shock. The horror. No. This was something that should not have happened and if he had realised what it meant he would have stopped it. Somehow. He felt the Captain's hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, Malcolm. It's gonna be a long night and you have to get some rest."

He felt an unexpectedly sharp pang of emotion. "Do you think the Sub-Commander will be resting, Captain?" He asked quietly.

The Captain exchanged a look with the ship's doctor and did not answer the question. Instead he urged Lt. Reed to leave Sickbay. The doctor watched them leave and sighed. Wished the Sub-Commander had confided in him. He did not think anyone would be able to get her out of the weight of obligations that would be heaped upon her. Only by staying on the neutral ground of Enterprise had she stood any chance of retaining her independence. Her actions in going to Koss, while honourable, had been misplaced. Koss would see it as a vindication that he was right. It would reinforce his belief that T'Pol was his. That he could do with her what he wanted and she would obey. Whether she liked it or not the Sub-Commander had been contaminated by her exposure to Human emotions. The illusion of free will. Duty no longer sat so well when it came to the giving of herself to another. He understood and could only hope and pray that the man she was betrothed to would be kind and gentle and that in the many years to come he would learn to love her. It was no certain thing that such sensitivity could be expected from a Vulcan male.

* * * * *

Three months. Long months in which broken ribs knitted back together. Bruises faded and cuts healed. They could not heal the punctured lung but ensured that the Commander did nothing to overtire himself. He was amused by their kindness and courtesy. Touched by the emotion which drove their care. None of them spoke of it. Now little Sarsa was tugging at his hand and begging him to tell her stories. He felt much stronger today. Wanted to ask Sar if they could go to the surface but first he had another duty to perform. He smiled at Sarsa and lifted her up into his lap. She made a slurring sound through curved lips that told him she was chuckling.

"What kind of story would ya like, Sarsa?"

Her eyes grew wide as saucers. An-aga stopped what she was doing with the flax cloth to watch them. Her eyes smiling, bemused. Her heart content. Sar was out and would be back soon then they would break their fast before discussing what to do with the rest of their day. "I want to hear more about your people, Trip."

He grinned. "Ya do, huh?"

She nodded, an Elfin face turned up to him in complete trust. He drawled slowly, the burr of his accent delighting her ear and making her smile widen as he knew it would. His eyes danced with mischief and affection. "O-kay. Did I ever tell ya about the day we played a trick on Malcolm?"

Her eyes shone as she shook her head. Trip's face took on the look of complete absorption that was the mark of the born storyteller. Lost in his own tale he drew the little girl effortlessly into his world. As the days had gone by she had become familiar with all of his friends. From the Captain down to the lowliest member of the ship's crew. From Porthos to the Denobulan doctor. He had stories about them all. And if some were a bit wild and fanciful he reckoned his friends would forgive him. When the story was over, Sarsa hugged him and he patted her gently. She pulled away but instead of sliding off his lap tilted her head in a action that mimicked her father bringing a soft smile to the Commander's lips. Now what was she asking? He raised an eyebrow, the cut above it still catching where the stitches had drawn too much skin to make the seal. It did not annoy him it just irritated at times. This though was not one of them.

"What's your question?"

"Why did you want to become an engineer, Trip? You could have been anything."

He laughed. A bright happy sound that delighted her.

"Well aren't ya the nosy inquisitive one?" He paused and gave her a thoughtful look, casting his mind back to the days before Enterprise. The days when he had first known Jonathan Archer. When his father Henry had kept a small boy enrapt with tales of space exploration and the dream of being the first to build the engine that would get them there. His look was far away and wistful. His voice tinged with awe and a hint of the sadness that burdened his heart that he usually kept hidden from her. "It was a long time ago." He said softly.

She nodded and settled in to his warmth, indicating her willingness to stay just where she was until he told her. He nodded, accepting the challenge.

"I don't know quite how it started if I'm bein' truthful but from the moment I first met Jon I knew we were meant to be friends." A slow smile lit his face. So many remembered joys. All of them precious to him. "We hit it off right away, ya know what I mean? When ya meet someone, some stranger, an' ya just feel drawn to them? Trust them right off the bat for no other reason than your heart tells ya so."

She nodded. Knew. Understood. Had felt that confident surge of friendship the day her father had brought him to them.

"Well that's how it was with us, Sarsa. Jon's a few years older than me but at heart we're both still just big kids that never grew up. His daddy was working on this engine. It was his dream. I was fascinated by it, fascinated by him. I could'a lost all the days of my life just listenin' to him. If ya ever wanted to hear a man spin a tale ya should'a listened to Henry Archer. He inspired me and that's when I knew what I was gonna do. Come hell or high water I wanted to be in those adventures, make some of my own, go and visit every new place and see as many different things as I could. Meet people I'd never even heard existed before. I decided right there and then I was gonna be the best damned engineer there was. I was gonna help him finish his warp engine and then me and Jon were gonna go off and explore the stars..."

Moments stretched. He was lost in his memories now. A creeping sadness shadowing his heart. A longing to see those faces again. To hear the voices of his friends josh him. The day to day banter that had punctuated his life for the last year. He wondered where they were now. Hoped his friend had fully recovered from the deathbloom. That his friends had forgiven him for taking the actions he had but in his mind there was no alternative and he did not regret it for a second. It was pressure on his hand that drew him back from his reverie. Sarsa was looking up at him. Tiny lines of worry on her little face. He smiled, laughed then hugged her.

"I'm okay, just reminscin'."

"You miss them, don't you?"

If he heard the soft hiss of an inward breath from An-aga he showed no sign. His attention riveted on the little girl's solemn face. "Yeah, I do. But ya know what?"

She saw the mischief in his eyes and could not suppress a smile. "What?"

"If I was there and ya were here, I'd miss ya too. Every day of my life."

Sarsa hugged him tight, eyes closed. Willing him to stay with them forever. He rocked her and smiled across at An-aga. Just then Sar returned and everybody bustled to help in the preparation of the first meal. After they had eaten and helped each other clean up Sar asked what everyone wanted to do with this day. When it came to Trip's turn, his mood was subdued but happy. "Well now ya come to mention it, Sar, there is someone I would really like to see..."

* * * * *

T'Pol could not exactly say she was nervous. The long journey back to Vulcan had passed in something of a haze. Her hours and days punctuated by the growing needs of Koss to assuage the ravages of his Pon Farr. Some days they never left their room at all. T'Pol was depleted. Worn out. Worn down. But she still had her pride and held her head high. They were mated but for some reason had not yet fully bonded. She did not know how unusual that was. Koss wanted to save the ultimate intimacy for the ceremony. It would be his crowning triumph over her. To meld with her as they were wed in the presence of her parents and his would prove beyond any doubt that she belonged to him. It had caused her some discomfort to be mated without being bonded but to Koss it was worth it. When the last floodgate was finally opened she could cry out his name and his months of frustration would be scattered on the solar winds. Before witnesses. A cold smile of satisfaction oiled its way across his face. He was not an evil man but neither did he embrace compassion.

He considered that her exposure to the Humans had made her weak. Koss stole a kiss, his hand rubbing across her breasts through her clothing. She submitted with cool grace, allowing the touch of his lips, the intimacy of his hand. Acknowledging his right but not reveling in it. Soon they would be wed. Bonded. He gave another cold smile. He was Vulcan. By the time he had finished with T'Pol she would not simply remember it she would embrace it too. Her Human affectations would be torn from her and her heritage be returned to her. His gift to her. The only true homecoming.

* * * * *

Ensign Hoshi Sato was doubtful. Travis nudged her. They were off duty and it was Movie Night. "Come on, Hoshi, it'll be fun."

She looked at him and frowned slightly. Fun. Without Commander Tucker the word seemed empty. Without Sub-Commander T'Pol the balance of the ship seemed out of kilter. She wondered who they would lose next. Would it be Travis? Malcolm? He saw how serious she had become. Miserable even and that was not like Hoshi.

"What's wrong?" He asked gently.

She bit back tears. "Everything's falling apart, Travis, can't you feel it?"

He looked worried. "What do you mean everything?"

"First we lose the Commander, then the Sub-Commander." She hugged herself as they walked from the mess hall. Garnering the odd curious look from other crew members as they walked along the corridor. Neither acknowledging anyone else. "I keep wondering who's going to be next."

A voice interrupted. It was the distinctive clipped tones of Lt. Reed. "Who's going to be next to do what?"

"Disappear." Said Travis.

Hoshi looked annoyed. "I didn't say disappear."

Travis looked sheepish. "Sorry." He explained to Lt. Reed. The three walked on together, the Lieutenant deep in thought. He gave Hoshi a sideways look.

"What makes you think we are going to lose any more of the crew, Hoshi?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

He stopped and they stopped too. "It has been almost six months since Commander Tucker was interred on Volara. I am sure that the Captain would agree it was time we checked in with him to ensure all was well. I don't see how we can break with protocol provided we do not go to the surface."

Her mood brightened. Travis looked a little wary. "I don't know, you know how funny they are. What if it just makes everything worse for the Commander? We might not be on the surface but he is. After all they wanted to kill the Captain for touching the flowers."

Lt. Reed nodded slowly. The boomer made a good point. "We'll just have to be extra careful in our contact with the Ambassador. After all, we only want to check on a friend. What harm could that do?"

* * * * *

It was dry, dusty, inordinately hot. T'Pol had forgotten how inhospitable the Vulcan homeward could be. Although her heart rejoiced to be on home soil again it was a arid expanse. A harsh and bitter world forming harsh and bitter people capable of surviving in it. Yet it had beauty too. Ochre sunsets that set the blood on fire. Winds that sang haunting songs. Sands that shifted and wrapped around you as you walked like a living breathing blanket of grains. All so fine that they formed rippling sheets that scraped softly against the skin or ripped flesh from bones in the sudden storms. Now it was quiet. She was home and Koss was walking proudly ahead of her, leading her to his home before going to her parents. She would have preferred it the other way round but more than that. She would have preferred not to be here at all. When they were joined in marriage her shame would finally be complete.

In this case perhaps the punishment did fit the crime. She had run away from this. Her destiny. Sought to hide from something she could not face by serving aboard an earth star ship. Knowing how much Koss hated the species. Loathed and looked down on them as inferior. To be fair that opinion was a common one among Vulcans. Not everybody was as broad minded or enlightened as V'Lar.

T'Pol closed her eyes briefly and made sure she did not fall behind. Soon she would be married to him and whatever else Koss was he was a Vulcan. She would be cared for in that passionless way that endured rather than loved. She would never go hungry, never be without a roof over her head or clothes on her back. He would give her children and her parents would be assured of his protection into their old age. It assured the future but at what cost? She had been foolish thinking she could change things. Irresponsible in thinking she could avoid one duty by embracing another. As Commander Tucker might have said, all her 'chickens' had come home to roost.

Koss's parents were much like their son. Remote, grave but polite. She wondered if they had argued about his choice after her refusal to return for the marriage. They spent a day with his family then moved on to hers. It felt strange. Standing in the room she had grown up in with her sister. Staring at the silver strands salting her mother's dark hair. Her father stood, his stocky frame reassuring her with his presence. Calmly she hugged her mother close, hiding the emotion she would otherwise have shown had Koss not been present. Only when their eyes met did all the emotions they kept inside touch. A sea of sorrow, a river of tears. T'Pol could see that her mother understood but not by any words or actions would she acknowledge it. To do so now would not only bring further shame on T'Pol, it would shame them all. Her mother noticed T'Pol had lost weight. She looked too thin, too pale, and was far too quiet. Her father flicked a brief look of concern in her direction but was too wise to voice it. Koss could be unstable and now that he had the upper hand it was not the time to give him further ammunition. He bowed his head over the food. The meal, which was perfect, was eaten in total silence. T'Pol did not taste a single morsel of it.

* * * * *

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A handful of people have made comments

Good Lord! Write some more, soon.

This story is just perfect! I just can't begin to comment on all the wonderful things happening. So many different storylines - beautiful speeches and vows (esp from Trip) - wonderful language that I want to just go back and read over and over. I love your writing - I always look forward to your next story - and I constantly see your reviews on other peoples stories - you are very kind! Please keep writing soon - I'm waiting in earnest!

It's just getting more and more interesting. I can't seem to get enough of it. Keep em' coming and look for long email from me at the end!!

This is just such a wonderful story, beautifully written with well-rounded characters. I've got a sort of idea of what might happen between Koss and Trip, eventually, but getting there is an enjoyable journey with you as our guide.
Thank you.

Oh, poor, poor T'Pol. My heart bleeds for her when I read this. And the little bit with Hoshi was excellent too!