Fragile-Part 38

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: "With the successful birth of the child Sar has little time in which to act. Meanwhile the ship
prepares to celebrate its' newest addition."
DISCLAIMER: The usual disclaimers apply. The characters and 'Enterprise' are the property of Paramount. No infringement of copyright is intended.

Part 38

"COMMINATION"

* * * * *

He was sleeping. Dreaming. Space was an endless ocean of discovery. A mistress of whom he could never tire. A vibrant mix of subtle forces only vaguely understood still less perceived. Everything sang to him. Light bathed him in mathematical equations that teased and filled him with awe. Clothed his mind. Blocking out the shadows of his incomplete understanding. Leaving a blank slate on which to write. Love was his cradle, waking his grave. New thoughts touched his so gently. Tiny tentative sensations seducing the periphery of his awareness exploring a new canvas. He was thinking of T'Pol. Happiness pervading his whole being, adding to the gently enticing vibrations of the solar winds. The warmth of many suns caressing him. A billion voices singing in the hushed tempo of distant awe. Enchanted, Trip drifted with them. No desire propelling him in any specific direction. Waiting. Content to see where it would lead him and who would follow.

Danny yawned and smiled at his brother's sleeping face. He looked so young and innocent. Angelic almost. So very vulnerable. His head on the pillow next to T'Pol. A hand gently embracing their tiny son. T'Pol's breathing in synchrony. Danny did not think he had ever seen anything quite so beautiful before. Dr Phlox smiled and finished his tasks then excused himself. When he had gone Sar padded quietly over to the biobed. Saw how tired Danny was despite it being mid-morning. He had after all kept the Human up all night talking. They had perhaps three hours before the doctor allowed the first visitors. Sar placed a gentle hand on Danny's shoulder. "Daniel."

"Yeah, what's up Sar?"

"Sit by the door if you will. You can doze while I watch over them for a while."

He nodded, tried to stifle a yawn and did as he was urged. Sar did not move for a minute. Content to watch his Senisa sleeping. He brushed a gentle hand through his tousled hair. Dipped his head to drop a light kiss of benediction on his forehead. Smiled softly at the baby and cast a look of wonder at the sleeping Vulcan. The boy's ears were Vulcan but his hair was so light it was like the sun shining off a field of corn. Yet another gift. Quietly he shifted the chair out of the way so that he could kneel equidistant between Trip and T'Pol at the head of the biobed. He needed to be careful. To ease his presence among them without waking them. The touch had to be light and delicate. He foresaw no danger to the Vulcan but Trip was Human. He would have no defenses to speak of therefore the Volaran would have to both insert his questing consciousness and provide adequate shielding for Trip as well. Not an easy balancing act to perform but one that was without question well within his ability to accomplish. Not even for the sake of the child would he risk any injury to Trip.

Sar laid a gentle hand on his Senisa's head then laid his other hand over the head of the sleeping baby. For a moment he just watched them both then timed his breathing to match theirs. His eyes slowly closing as he embraced the deep trance state of his calling. Purposely he followed the joyful lilt of his Senisa's thoughts, gently ebbing with them, his love causing no waves and no change in the steady heartbeat. He could touch his thoughts now. Embrace him on a fundamental level denied to most others. His connection to Trip made the merging easy. Flawless. Not a ripple on the sleeping consciousness. It was tempting to stay there, to go no further. But that was not his mission. Nor the purpose of his intent. Gently he followed the flow of sleeping thoughts. Through Trip he skirted the deep bond with T'Pol. Unwilling to draw closer and perhaps be detected. He knew about the mind meld. The bond was not one to be taken lightly especially in a state this deep. Now he sensed the new bond forming between his Senisa and the sleeping child. It was stronger than he had expected. A link that was more knowing than a normal infants' would have been. To a Volaran this would indicate an old soul. An ascended master even. Not a newborn hybrid struggling to overcome the risks of interspecies mating to exist at all. So many things could have gone wrong.

Tentatively he reached further. Examining the strands of DNA. Human. Vulcan. And this. The child. A flicker of excitement subdued his senses with caution. His thoughts muted, his mind reduced to a deep still pool while he waited. Watched. He felt the vague ripple before awareness touched him like a superheated wire. A heat seeking device, no less true for being imagined in this place where thoughts were real. Coiled it burned him but he gave no reaction. Silent. Immobile. He sank into the mask of oblivion while a mere shadow of a presence floated over him. The newly formed mind paused and became still again. A wary watcher. Sar knew how to be patient. How to camouflage himself in a thousand forms. The waiting consciousness tired of the game before he did. Mistook the stillness for the void. Its' suspicion allayed by inactivity. After all it was newly formed and still learning to define the boundaries of Trip's mind from that of T'Pol's. This was why his only chance was to enter as close to the time of birth as opportunity allowed. If he left it more than a few hours he risked detection. If he was right the backlash could kill his Senisa quicker than a heart attack. T'Pol might sustain residual damage but the baby would be unaffected. And the trail he sought would vanish.

If he had told Trip his plan the Human would have been distressed beyond all reason. That alone would have placed him in unacceptable danger. Not to mention the stress on the unborn child. The Vulcan Sub-Commander would probably have fought him. Refused to accept or acknowledge the possibility of something so outrageous and arcane. This realm in which dreams and nightmares wore borrowed flesh had no grip in their accepted view of reality but denial did not make it so. Monsters were not simply born and bred. First they had to be conceived in the mind. The sentient beings that so casually populated this universe had yet to grasp that they lived in the endless sea of a vast and subtle consciousness. Not Human. Not Vulcan. Not even Volaran. An amalgam that went so far beyond species, so deeply ingrained in every infinitesimal particle of matter, that there could be no escaping it. This then was that well of dreams. That fiery crucible where ancient foes fought for battlegrounds so far beyond the reach of conscious beings because they were as yet unformed. Imagined only. Yet just as real. Wispy trails of future fate or vanquished fortune. Destiny was a coin used to deceive the unwary. Waking the biggest sleight of hand of them all.

* * * * *

Mrs. Tucker found the stilted conversation of the Vulcans baffling. "T'Vrel, pardon my bluntness but ya don't seem too happy at the birth of the baby."

"On the contrary. We are reconciled to this union, Mrs. Tucker. My daughter's choice was not our choice."

Her husband bristled but let the insult flow over him. No call to reward ignorance with more ignorance. It would only lead to the devolution of both species and from what he could see the Vulcans had a head start. T'Vrel seemed to apprehend the insensitivity of her observation and decided to explain.

"On Vulcan it is tradition for marriages to be arranged. When the child is quite young the girl or boy is betrothed. Later, when they come of age they are bonded and married. In time they may even grow to love one another."

Mr. Tucker looked shocked. "Where's the passion in that?"

Saveth frowned but kept his voice level, emotionless. "Passion is an emotion."

"Yes," Said Mrs. Tucker slowly. Trying to hide how much his seemingly casual dismissal worried her. "Like love. I can't say I understand your need to control your emotions but I respect that it's your way just as bein' emotional is ours. My son loves your daughter heart an' soul an' from what I've seen of T'Pol that love is returned."

T'Vrel inclined her head in agreement relieving some of Mrs. Tucker's anxiety. "You are correct."

"Yet how can that be so?" Asked Mr. Tucker. "I mean, with Vulcans not showin' their emotions an' all."

"Vulcans *do* have emotions." Corrected Saveth. "We have just learned to control them. To steer away from excess. A calm life of contemplation is an admirable goal."

"What do ya do when your control slips? Say somethin' unexpected happens an' ya get angry?"

T'Vrel arched an eyebrow. "We meditate."

Mr. and Mrs. Tucker exchanged a look. Glad that T'Pol appeared to be less of a cold fish than her parents. Perhaps it was a generational thing? Or perhaps it was T'Pol's exposure to Trip that had thawed out that icy reserve to reveal a warm heart beating beneath it? Mrs. Tucker poured some more tea and glanced surreptitiously at the clock. It was going to be a long few hours. Only when she looked up and caught T'Vrel's eye did she notice the deep gleam of mischief almost buried in her dark liquid eyes. Amusement clear and subtle but unmistakable. A flicker of hope rekindled in her gentle heart. These people might seem cold and passionless on the surface but T'Vrel hinted at an emotional substrata at least the equal of their own.

* * * * *

Light years evaporated around them. Windows of time were meaningless concepts. The spin and flow of galaxies no more than the blink of an eye. Drawn by the activation they returned. Gravitated towards the fragile hope they nurtured in darkness and bathed now in sentient light. So it was they saw what the Key did not. The material chosen was well formed. No maladjustment allowed to interfere. That it was a Vulcan and Human bonding merely factored in more possibilities. Excited their patient overview. The corridor of time evacuated of every extraneous function but this. Other worlds waited. The gestation period was almost the most critical piece of creation.

"He knows."

"Unexpected."

"We should speak to him."

"Not yet."

"Why?"

"It would disturb the hosts."

"And the child?"

"Must remain unaware."

A pause. Suns went nova. Stars gleamed and glittered until lost to view as planets formed to fill the expanse. So many universes overlapping. One great celestial clock to marry their orbits. The sea of consciousness pulsed very gently causing subtle forces to pull and tug at paths now elliptical. Their breath stirred the silence into a hushed song. A siren leading the lost, the dispossessed, and the dreamers deeper into the web of another reality.

"What of the aftermath?"

"A small sacrifice to pay."

"They will resist."

"Yes."

"We could let them go."

"No."

"There is another way."

A longer silence.

"Then let our servant speak."

An almost hesitant pause now. They watched how the former Simitarial Guard carried his duties even into the hallowed state they called Bliss. "He will know our hand in this."

"He does already."

"The Human is his Senisa."

"Unfortunate."

"The bond is precious."

"Yes."

"How can we break it?"

"Needs must."

"It will hurt him."

"Yes."

"It will hurt them all."

A long, long silence fell. A shower of meteorites fragmented and glittered in the path of a dying sun.

"The Human is fragile."

"And the Vulcan?"

"Her mind is stronger."

"Enough to survive?"

"Yes."

"The Key has chosen."

Another silence. More thoughtful than the last.

"The Other hid it well."

"He died for that mischance. Thinking to thwart us."

"A foolish endeavour."

"Yet see: it bears fruit."

"Unexpected."

"Glorious."

"A gift."

Pause.

"An opportunity awakened."

"How long?"

"Let the child live. For now."

"And the Human?"

"Will be accompanied beyond the veil."

A pained silence.

"This was not our intent."

"A small price."

A voice dared to disagree.

"Why should our price be his?"

"A gift."

"Gifts are given not taken."

Silence. A brief flare of passion. Rare. Exotic. Savoured.

"And our servant?"

"We will watch a little longer."

"He may succeed."

"It will not matter."

"Why?"

"In the end he will have to choose."

"You know what his choice will be."

"Yes."

"The Human will grieve."

"Yes."

"And the Vulcan?"

"The Vulcan may be our undoing."

"Not his?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Her mind is strong."

"We know."

"But she has learned from him."

"What has she learned?"

A long passionate silence. As emotions cooled, answers came drifting among them.

"That love is stronger."

This time the silence was even more profound.

* * * * *

Kai could not stop laughing. His obvious pleasure and embracing of all aspects of humanity an irresistible combination to Sarsa. So far removed from the solemn Vulcans. Lighter than the weighty concerns of Volarans. So like their Human friends yet not alike. A good mix of Human and Volaran natures. "I do not see the purpose of this *film*."

He smiled at her, hands linked in companionship. Friendship. And something more. "Ya enjoyed it though, didn't ya?"

She smiled at the introduction of the southern twang. Not as pronounced as his father's but growing more attractive to her ear because it was so much now a part of his personality. On impulse she gave him a light kiss, her lips brushing his and startling him. A smile formed like a rainbow on his lips as they parted.

"I think I could get used to this."

Sarsa laughed, tossed her hair. He thought he had never seen anything more wonderful in his life. Not that he would tell her. Yet. "We were talking about the movie."

"You were." He corrected her with a smile.

She punched him playfully. He gave a mock tussle. Before they realised it they were tumbling about on the floor of Kai's quarters. Laughter fragmenting as the warmth grew between them and both became painfully aware of how close they were to the other. How much they craved to be closer. Kai froze, his body stilled beneath her. Her laughing eyes grown serious as she searched his golden depths. Her heart stirred with emotions she was just learning the names of. He felt himself drowning in unbidden awakening desires. His body so hot and fervent, his control out of reach. There was only her and him. He thought the rush of blood to his head would give him an embolism before he could force words out of his mouth and bring them both back to safer ground. But he was thinking without consideration of the female of his species. Sarsa caught on quicker than he did. Molded her body gently into the curves and planes beneath her. Using her weight to bear down on him until both bodies were snug. His eyes widened. Breath quickening. Heart racing. Her eyes sparkled. Lost. He was lost. In the moment he knew it she dipped her head until her lips covered his. To claim at last what she had long desired to call her own.

* * * * *

Lt. Malcolm Reed was laughing. He was in the Armoury and Trip's sister Lizzie was teasing him mercilessly. She enjoyed watching the intent and grave man open up to her. As he relaxed she felt a great sense of achievement. The current hilarity had come about by a mutual swap of the most embarrassing stories they could think of involving her brother. Lt. Reed was shaking his head, fighting for breath. He had thought his friend's pregnancy was the funniest thing that had ever happened to him but Trip seemed to have an inbuilt knack for getting himself into the most embarrassing situations.

"Liz, your brother should come with a government health warning."

She laughed back but her laughter was gentle, kindly, her look affectionate. The Tucker Clan were a very closely knit family and for a moment an unexpected pain pierced his heart. How would they look on his family? A remote father and a silent mother? Only his sister, Middy, encompassed the vibrancy of what it meant to be alive. His parents would have made model Vulcans. It was not simply the stiff upper lip. It was the emotional distance between them. He knew they loved him insofar as it was possible for them to do so. But as he grew older he had gradually learnt that the marriage had been loveless from the start. They married because his father had got her pregnant and for an ambitious naval officer having children out of wedlock was not an option. The marriage had been quickly arranged and from the moment the ceremony ended to the present day it had progressed along the orderly lines of a military campaign. It was only later that he wondered why his mother had never left him. Then he realised. She loved her children. Was crippled by the same blind devotion to duty that his father was. A straight jacket of emotions kept the two of them in place. It broke his heart to think of what could have been.

Lizzie noticed his change in mood. "Malcolm, are you alright?"

Mentally he cursed himself and nodded swiftly. "Yes. Of course. Just thinking about some upgrades that need doing." He paused briefly. "I take it you'll be going to join the rest of the family in welcoming the new baby?"

She nodded, eyes sparkling again. So full of joy that he could not remain solemn in her presence for long. "Wild horses - OR Armoury Officers - wouldn't keep me away!"

He raised his eyebrows and pretended to be hurt. "Armoury Officers do have feelings you know."

Lizzie smiled. "Then why don't you come with us?"

He glanced around and mentally ticked off all the work he had to do. He was already behind schedule. "Sorry, Liz, but I really do have to get some work done. Besides," He looked at her. "Trip and T'Pol are going to be swamped with visitors. I think it would be nice to call in on them when they've had a chance to catch their breath."

"Have it your own way." Her bright smile softened the words. "See you later in the mess hall? I'll tell you how it went?"

He flashed a grin back at her. "Just try keeping me away."

She laughed and left with a bounce in her step. Lt. Reed sighed. A wistful expression briefly flitting over his sensitive face. Yes. Why couldn't he have a family like that? Minus the dreadful accent. Of course.

* * * * *

{GLOSSARY: For those unfamiliar with this word, COMMINATION means 'the threatening of Divine intervention.'}

*****************

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Four of you have made comments

The conversation between the aliens has me scared. I hope you're not planning to kill anyone off, even for the sake of the universe, or the key, or whatever.
And once again, some great interaction between characters, esp. Kai and Sarsa and then Malcolm and Lizzie.
PS Thanks for the glossary entry - I was going to have to look that one up.

Oh, Ali. Where are you taking us? You're not going to make me cry are you?

Oooh! Getting scary here! What mischief is being planned by those disembodied alien voices?

I wondered right from the start how Sar and Trip's extended alien family were going to stay on board ship, so is something nasty around the next corner?

I loved the thought of Malcolm and Lizzie swapping 'big brother' embarrassments about OMT; it would have been fun to have been able to eavesdrop...

And thanks for the glossary, although I'd already looked up the definition; I always keep my dictionary handy when reading your stories.

Well I'm glad to see that other chapter wasn't the end. Though Please don't kill anyone off. *pouts and makes puppy dog eyes* I really like the interaction of Trip and T'pol's family.