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The Chaos Series - pt 1The Chaos Series By Alison M. DOBELL A/N: *This story is dedicated with grateful thanks to Plumtuckered and Bucky for their help and support after a difficult few months.
Part 1 Comfort and Joy She comes to me when I am sleeping. Champion of the nightmares that haunt me, the grief that assails my weary soul. So much pain and hardship. Loss and longing. I am exhausted by it until her presence pushes back the inky darkness of this burden of sorrow. Bad enough to lose Lizzie. 7 million innocents lost in the blink of an eye. Had to lose my greatest friend too. Why did he have to be the hero? Why did everyone else have to make it back from that Xindi weapon but him? When Hoshi hugged me I couldn't even react. Too stunned and shocked to take it in. No tears, no ranting or raving for Jon. Just this terrible numbness. I wonder if that was in his mind all the time. It would explain his comment to T'Pol when he left. As if he did not expect to be coming back. I had been so angry with him once the locked emotions were free. Who the hell did he think he was? But on the heels of that thought the answer came ringing back that in his eyes he would always be the one responsible. He was the Captain. This was his ship and crew. By his decisions we lived or died. And Jon simply couldn't take sending any more of his people out there to die. Born leader my friend. Would not ask any of us to do what he would not do himself. I respected him for that, hated him too. But the hate was a false anger; its heat already spent leaving me empty of all but the loss. I had been weeping again only my eyes were dry. It was my heart and soul that lay bleeding, little pieces of me lost to the ether. Not that I tried to claw any of it back. That would have taken more effort than I was capable of right now. Worn out by the emotional roller coaster that had been our lives in the Expanse. It hardly penetrated as a success that the terrible place had reverted to normal space. Jon's doing. His brilliance in ending the waking nightmare that was the Xindi threat had been defeated not simply by our own efforts but by convincing other Xindi that humanity was not the threat the Guardians had claimed. How the hell he had achieved that little miracle was beyond me but I know this: every man, woman and child of Earth owes him a debt they can never repay. Though I don't doubt there will still be trouble somewhere somewhen with the Reptillians. They don't look like the kind that will back down or walk away from defeat. Reckon they'll go quiet and simmer for a few years then plot and scheme some future atrocity to bring them back to the seat of power they crave. Spurred on by the dominance that is as much a part of their psyche as curiosity is a part of ours. Hopefully if and when that happens another hero will step forward and put the bully back in his cage. Perhaps next time - if there is a next time - that hero will be Xindi. The thought does not seem as fanciful and preposterous as I would once have believed. I think of Degra. A man I loathed and despised on so many levels, slowly shown to be nothing more than a man of integrity wrestling with his conscience. Convinced by his people that the terrible pre-emptive strike visited on Earth had been the only way to protect his species from extinction. Destroying lives in an effort to save lives. How crazy was that? I want to rant and rail at the absurdity of it but don't. Are we any different? Haven't we done terrible things in our history that fill us with shame? Weren't similar arguments used in the creation of the atom bomb? I would like to think we have learnt the lessons of our past but assume nothing. We have a habit of letting history repeat itself. Finding new and fun ways to abuse the privilege of life. Yet no matter how many times we mess up and get it wrong, the will to put it right grows stronger. We fall less often and we rise that bit quicker each time. In that stubborn persistence of will I see hope. I sigh and blink up at the darkness in my bunk. Not sleeping but not wanting to stir either. So much to mull over and make sense of. A warm hand brushes my cheek and I turn my head. Reminded I am not alone. The smile on my face a gift of the heart. Her scent intoxicating me, her body rubbing gently, slowly up against mine as she angles her head to get a good look at my face. She knows I am upset but at least I am quiet. No temper tantrum or fits of weeping. Her hand reads my face and touches gently the curve of my lips. My sigh warms her questing palm just before her lips find mine. All the angst and sorrow dissipates at her touch, mind and body turning to her as if she is the air I breathe. T'Pol slides on top of me before I can turn on my side to embrace her, the heated quickening of my flesh throbs thunder behind my eyes. A faint flash of humour reflected in her solemn orbs, then her small hands cup my face and she deepens the kiss. Her tongue stroking mine as I respond. No hurried drive for sex, just the slow langorous blessing of two bodies in motion, perfect symmetry. We make love slowly, not dragging it out but not hurrying it either. My hands touch her with an intimacy that goes beyond the physical and I am lost in a timeless adoration. Her hand slides between us to hold and caress me, my moan lost in the warm shadows of her mouth. Her legs part as I harden to her touch, groaning with rising need as I am teased and coaxed before she swallows me deep into her warm embracing heat. Her muscles contracting around me and shuddering the breath out of my lungs. As long as I live I will never get over how perfect this feels. Being with T'Pol is the best thing that has ever happened to me. The one piece of paradise I will carry in my heart until the day I die. * * * * * He has been so sad, so solemn in his grief. I never thought I would miss his smile so much. The longer I am with him the more I want him. Need to be part of him. It is a curious thing but I feel whole when he is near. Reassured to know he is close. We do not have to touch, to speak, to be constantly in each other's arms. It is enough for me to know he is here. He is safe. I know it is selfish but I am glad it has ended this way. It would have been intolerable if he had been the one to go to the weapon and not return. The Captain is my friend and I will grieve for his loss but Commander Tucker is my ashayam, the other half of my katra. My soul. I now accept what my subconscious has long known and it feels so right. Why did I lose myself for so long in that nameless fear? Why did I fail to see the goodness and worth of this man? To acknowledge that we did not belong apart but together? I feel him stir beside me. He is not asleep. The companionable silence is suddenly not enough. I need to touch him, taste him, lose myself in him until we are so conjoined there will be no more moments of him or I only us. Comfort and love him until the pain and grief become manageable again. Remind him that living is something we share and leave the darkness behind him. I touch his beloved face, relieved to find no tears, yet that is somehow more poignant knowing he now contains that grief on the inside where my touch cannot reach him. The knowledge leaves me bereft. I need to reach him! His breath stirs against my palm as he turns towards me. I do not want to talk so I move over him, deliberately rubbing my body against his as I pin him beneath me. My body heat increasing at his proximity and the thoughts burning in my head, the need to take him rising but controlled by sheer force of will. I do not want to hurt him nor shall I. He is mine and I am his, this fact I will sear through every layer of his consciousness until body, mind and soul recognise it as an incontrovertible truth. He is mine and I will not give him up to his demons nor to the ghosts of the past. * * * * * I wake not knowing I had slept. Sated after our earlier exertions two bodies now at rest. The warm arms wrapped so possessively around me bring a smile of pleasure to my lips and for a moment I forget the weight of sorrow and loss that has been crushing my heart and soul. Memories that carry the weight of the world. T'Pol is my only light, the one good thing that can hold back the darkness that would otherwise consume me. I feel her heat as she moves against me, her warm flesh sending little sparks skittering under my skin wherever our bodies touch. Her hands loving me and rousing me so gently it is almost harder than being taken by force for she builds the desire in me quicker than a forest fire in a heatwave. All light touches and wet random laps of her tongue, now a lazy trail of moist heat as her lips kiss a nipple before she begins to suck and bite, her teeth gently teasing the nub hard as one hand pinches and rolls the other nipple. Talk about a quick study, the pupil is definitely showing the teacher a thing or two. Her other hand slides lower catching me in a pincer movement from which I do not want to escape. Her need is insatiable and my response is as automatic as breathing. Oh God, I don't want this to ever end. For a time to come when I can't have this. She is my world. My Alpha and Omega and everything that lies between. I can't resist her nor do I want to, surrendering to those gentle but hungry lips that would devour me. My heart and soul laid bare, tasting her joy on my tongue, her laughter in my heart, her solemn ecstasy in my soul as roused I rise beyond the weariness of body and soul until love and lust ignites an all consuming flame of passion in my heart. A passion that weeps her name as those gifted lips slide down my body and take me in. The suction is incredible but subtle and my hips begin to buck automatically but T'Pol has learnt how to command my body as well as my heart. She pauses until I lie still again, not holding me down but waiting for me to do so with what remains of my rapidly diminishing self control. Every cell of my body almost crawling out of my skin to say 'to hell with this' and take control. But I won't do that and she knows it, counts on it. My heart is a rapid beat like footsteps hurrying in a mad dash that must now be halted to wait patiently for T'Pol to release me to the ecstasy my body craves. I am perspiring heavily now and so is she, it oils the slide of her body down mine as my breath catches in my throat, a strangled cry of want, need and desire as she laps and sucks bringing me hard and leaking into her smiling mouth. "When your body's had enough of me - 'A Little Bit More' sung by Dr Hook She loved to tease him, to break his control and watch it fragment as she brought him to a shattering climax. At first she had not been sure she could swallow the bitter flood on her tongue but like everything else about her ashayam she had quickly become addicted and enough was never enough. T'Pol murmured words of love in Vulcan and slid the point of her tongue back and forth across his salty slit while he twitched and moaned beneath her, one hand deftly rolling his testicles, driving Trip insane until with a violent shudder he erupted hard into her happy mouth. She licked, purred, sucked and savoured every last white tear his body had wept for her. Then he was reaching down, pulling and coaxing her up to him so he could kiss her.
She stretched and moaned encouragement as he moved southwards until Trip reached her fragrant forest. It was every sailor's wet dream to breathe her in as he gently parted her moist folds with fingers carefully splayed to hold her open to him, a flower waiting to disgorge her sweet nectar. His tongue slowly seeking, stroking, probing until he found the bundle of nerves and determined to drive her to distraction with want and need. T'Pol thrust her hips into his face as if he had touched a live wire. His chuckle vibrating against her nerve endings sending hot spikes of wanton desire ripping through her. Her rocking hips became erratic as he intensified the stimulation, T'Pol already beginning to spasm on his tongue, her mouth parting in a soundless cry, a mute entreaty for deeper penetration, endlessly chasing the rapid spiral of building desire. He loved her so much, celebrating every nuance that made her so uniquely his. And obedient servant to her will as he was he could deny her nothing. When she climaxed on his tongue he lapped her juices gently but did not stop. Coaxing her to spasm again and again as he savoured that sweet exotic wine. T'Pol trembled, her fingers clenched hard in his hair, half pulling and half dragging him up until her mouth captured his, tasting herself on his lips. The assault was fast, hard and furious. Unable to get enough of him. Her hand sliding down to caress him heavily, so much so that he felt his breath catch, surprised to find himself once again hardening in her grasp, the head leaking and oiling her hand before she gave a quick hard thrust of impatient hips and buried him deep inside the molten core of her. He gasped. She sighed. Their mounting pleasure capped with blessed relief. Unable to speak their bodies did the talking. Passion flared, was met and sated then drawn out in a long slow winding down of overheated senses until at last they lay in postcoital bliss. Trip lay with his eyes half closed and kissed her temple. He felt utterly exhausted but filled with a peace that could not be expressed in words even had he the breath to do so. Both glistened in the warm glow of the candle that was almost spent. The wax depleted by being left lit after they had finished their meditation before retiring for the night. Neither thinking to extinguish the flame. The sweet scent of Vulcan incense drifting and mingling with their pheromones, an exotic perfume to be savoured creating another memory to be hoarded and treasured as sleep claimed them. A few hours later they rose and showered. They took what rest they could as and when they could get it, snatching moments of blessed oblivion or using the time to workout in the gym and get rid of some of the awful tension when they could not sleep. Yet even after three hours of solid love making Trip could not keep the heartache or bitterness at bay for long. To have finally won against the Xindi only to lose the Captain was too cruel. He thought about others they had lost. Not just Lizzie but Major Hayes and dozens of men and women lost since this voyage had begun. He thought back to how naive and bright eyed they had once been. How often the Captain had laughed during that first year and how seldom he did in the last one. Hard times. Trying times. Yet "Enterprise" had survived. The Human Race had been saved. The Commander had lost so much but had also gained more than he could have imagined in T'Pol. She was both his comfort and joy. When Trip reached the canteen he noticed Lt Reed was already there. His uniform as crisp and starched as he was. The dark shadows under his eyes and terse expression reminding Trip how hard the loss of the Captain had hit him. Malcolm blamed himself for letting the Captain embark on what amounted to a suicide mission. He was the Armoury Officer. It was his job to keep them safe and in his eyes he had failed. Trip was determined not to let his friend become consumed by irrational guilt. Besides, the nightmare was not over yet. The universe had decided to give their tale a bizarre twist. Malcolm watched Trip settle in the chair beside him, his expression sombre. Eyes haunted. He was surprised to see that the Commander had ignored the usual breakfast fare and gone straight for desert. "I'm certain all that sugar cannot be good for you, Commander." "Relax, Malcolm, I need the energy." At Lt Reed's raised eyebrow Trip cut the pecan pie with the edge of his fork and paused before taking a bite. He was watching Malcolm. The Lieutenant stared down at his barely touched breakfast. A cooling mug of tea all but forgotten in his hands. When he looked up again he seemed to be staring at nothing. "I can't believe we'll soon be back on Earth." Commander Tucker nodded, feeling equally subdued. "Yeah, it's gonna be hard without Jon." His voice caught and he quickly looked away, mentally cursing his weakness as he bit back the threat of tears. They sat in silence for several minutes neither of them even pretending to eat now. Trip put his fork down and pushed the plate away. It was almost a relief when Hoshi requested their presence on the bridge. Lt Reed got to his feet and paused when his friend did not immediately rise to follow him. "Commander? Trip." He swallowed slowly and forced himself to look at his friend. "Yeah, I know Malcolm. Just give me a second, okay?" He nodded and waited patiently then when Trip was ready they left the canteen and went straight to the bridge. T'Pol was already there as were Travis and Hoshi. With a nod Trip and Malcolm took their places. Now that they were finally approaching Earth Trip could feel the building sense of anticipation. His parents were down there as was his brother Danny and all their friends. Countless Uncles and Aunts, school friends and neighbours. Despite his sorrow and all they had been through he couldn't wait to see it. When the image of that shining blue pearl came up on the screen Trip felt his throat closing tight with emotion. God, it was so beautiful. Never seen a sweeter sight in all his life. Marring that emotion was the bitter bile that Captain Archer should have been sharing this moment with them. Hoshi should not have been on the bridge. She was still weak and suffering the after effects of her ordeal but was determined to be present when they got their first glimpse of Earth. Now she had the privilege of being the one to contact Starfleet and let them know that Enterprise was coming home. That was the point. The very moment when the other shoe fell. "What do you mean it isn't there?" Trip wailed. "There are no satellites, Commander." Said T'Pol. He was sure he must have misheard but Lt Reed was double checking and had a stunned expression on his face. His face had lost all colour. "It's true, they're gone. Don't ask me what's going on, Commander, but there's nothing not even a space station." "Maybe there's some interference..." T'Pol cut off that line of wishful thinking. "For once, Commander, reception is excellent." His eyes widened with frustration and alarm. "What the hell happened?" Lt Reed's expression was grim. His lips flatlining. "Looks like someone got to Earth before us." Trip wanted to cry, rant and rave. It had to be a mistake, it just had to. It was T'Pol who made the decision. "Commander, take shuttlepod one and see if you can find out what has happened. Ensign Travis will pilot the craft." "Be careful," Said the Armoury Officer. "We don't know what happened so don't take any chances." The Commander nodded. The warning an echo of his own darkening mood. "I won't." Trip and Travis left the bridge. For a moment Malcolm saw the worry in the Vulcan's eyes, then the cool shutters were down again and the flawless professional was back at her post. * * * * * Hours later shuttlepod one returned. Paintwork nicked but undamaged. Her two crew though were badly shaken. T'Pol wanted to know every detail of what had happened. Malcolm watching Trip closely, noticing how pale he was. The Commander looked stunned. Travis looked bewildered. The boomer glanced at his senior officers with a baffled expression on his face. "I don't understand how it could happen." "There are many hostile races in the universe, Ensign." Cautioned T'Pol. "No, I know that it's just we were fired on..." He broke off unable to say it. It just seemed too preposterous that their own people had been firing on them. Trip said it for him. "They were old fighter aircraft, Malcolm." "There must be some mistake." Trip's words did not sound any more believable being delivered in person than they had when he and Travis had reported the attack over the com. But the physical chips and dings in the shuttlepod's hull supported the unlikely scenario though none of the hits had compromised the shuttlepod's integrity. "Seems we haven't simply come home we've also gone back in time. Unless I'm mistaken we flew right into the second world war." Ensign Sato was nodding, as stunned as the rest of them but unable to deny that some of the fragments of communications she had been picking up were German. There were also transmissions in French, Italian and Polish. Just like the American and British transmissions the talk was of war. Trip and Travis had been shocked when American aircraft had buzzed shuttlepod one several times, laying down strafing fire before banking for another attack run. T'Pol had ordered them not to engage but to return to Enterprise so they could discuss what to do. The atmosphere in the situation room was understandably tense. Lt Reed looked as if he wanted to faint. Either that or laugh. "What you're describing Commander is impossible." "Not any more." Said Trip grimly. He looked to Malcolm as if he were spoiling for a fight but was not sure who the enemy was. "Who would've thought we'd end up in the past?" Hoshi Sato looked worried. "How did we do that?" Malcolm Reed shook his head trying to find some rational explanation that would not result in a prolonged stay in a padded room in a jacket that did up at the back. "I don't think we did. If you ask me Daniels is behind this." Trip frowned. "How d'you know it was Daniels?" Lt Reed huffed as if the answer were obvious. "I don't but how many interfering time travellers do you know?" The Commander glanced at T'Pol who canted her eyebrow at him to indicate the Lieutenant made a valid point. "Let's suppose that you're right there's one little inconsistency that I can't get outta my head. Up until now it's always been the Cap'n bein' whisked off in time. This feels like a different ballgame." "Different how?" "It isn't just us." "Pardon?" "Think about it Malcolm. We go home after the Xindi weapon is destroyed only home isn't the same as we left it. Somehow Earth is still hip-deep in the throes of the second world war. So no Starfleet, no Malcolm Reed or Trip Tucker. No Jonathan Archer either." "Your point, Commander?" Asked T'Pol. "I'm sayin' this time the whole planet is in the wrong time frame and even though we weren't on Earth when it happened so are we. How'd you account for that?" "I don't but I'm assuming you have a theory?" "Nope, not even the shadow of one. But like you Malcolm I'm bettin' Daniels is behind this." "And if he is?" "We gotta find him and get things put back to the present day." * * * * * At the end of the meeting they still had not come up with a workable plan. Even though T'Pol had often insisted that there was no such thing as time travel Trip had learnt that she had simply been repeating the mantra of the Vulcan High Command. Only as he got to know her much better did he discover that she did not always hold the same opinions as her superiors. The proof was her decision to remain on board Enterprise when they entered the Expanse, a decision that had caused her to resign her commission in an attempt to aid her human allies in the face of Vulcan opposition. The small comfort that gave him however did not solve their current dilemma. Trip recalled their attempt to contact Earth, the lack of satellites around the planet, the sudden incongruous sight of him and Travis being buzzed by world war II planes and the distinctive rat-a-tat-tat of old fashioned bullets hitting the side of the shuttlepod. It had been unnerving but also exhilarating. As if history had jumped a couple of dozen pages and come to life. But this was no Boy's Own adventure tale this was real life and it was happening *now*. He, T'Pol, Malcolm, Hoshi and Travis were now gathered in sickbay after an urgent call from Dr. Phlox. The Denobulan's usual cheery aspect was more than subdued. He looked worried and deeply troubled. T'Pol gave him a nod to indicate that he should explain the reason for his unexpected summons. "It is my duty to inform you that the subcutaneous transponder had just been activated." Trip went white, even Malcolm looked visibly shaken. Travis frowned. "What?" It was Hoshi who explained. "Dr Phlox took the precaution of inserting a subcutaneous transponder in all the away team members when we went to disable the Xindi weapon. The idea being that if anything went wrong it would be easier to find us so we could be transported out of there. Individually if need be." Travis looked confused then his eyes widened as the dime dropped. T'Pol gave them all a calm but steely look as if bracing herself and them. "The activation of the transponder can mean only one thing." "The Cap'n's alive." Said Trip stunned. His hands gripped a table for support, knuckles white. Lt Malcolm Reed stared from one face to another as he struggled to recover. "Bloody Hell!" As the full implications began to sink in Commander Tucker became more animated, the dull shock in his eyes now sensing a fevered opportunity. Lt Reed found the change unsettling. Trip let go of the table, eyes bright with barely suppressed excitement. "Don't you see what this means? We can make it right." T'Pol stared at the Commander as if he had taken leave of his senses. Hoping he did not mean what she thought he meant. "Make what right, Commander?" He looked like a man reborn. The hope in his eyes almost painful to watch. Warming up to his theme and the possibilities that stretched endlessly before him like a yellow brick road he could not keep the excitement out of his voice. "In the past there was no Xindi attack on Earth. It hasn't happened yet. That means there may still be a chance to save Lizzie." He paused and smiled at them. "We just have to figure out how." The Vulcan gave him a look that was bordering on pity but it was so fleeting and he was so excited he did not see it. Malcolm Reed did and his level of unease multiplied tenfold. Much as he would like to embrace the hope and confidence of Commander Tucker he rather feared things were a whole lot more complex than that. Putting aside the seeming impossibility of the situation they found themselves in there was no way of knowing what they would find on Earth. By all rights there should be no way Captain Archer could have been catapulted back to the second world war and even with that unbelievable event happening there should have been no way the Enterprise could have been thrown back in time either. Yet apparently they had. The fact that Enterprise and Earth had somehow been transported into the past did not mean that the same thing had happened to the Captain. Yet the activation of his transponder supported the likelihood that he had. Lt Reed began to feel as if he had inadvertently stepped into the Twilight Zone. He bit down on his bottom lip and stayed silent. Not wanting to say anything to shatter his friend's hope. After all, any hope was better than none. * * * * * Return to "The Chaos Series" MENU PAGE Have a comment to make about this story? Do so in the Trip Fan Fiction forum at the HoTBBS! A whole mess of folks have made commentsThank you for the dedication, Ali. I am so pleased that you are able to be writing your wonderful stories again. I too thank you for the dedication and have also missed your beautiful stories. This one is no exception. You truly have a very special talent! Thank you! Looking forward to Chapter Two... I like how you started off with the end of Zero Hour and added your own twists along the way. Nice job. I can't wait for the next part. Wow. I mean... really...WOW! What Vaux said!!! I'm really enjoying these post Zero Hour stories. The NC-17 rating is a nice bonus (fans self). :-) I can't express enough how much I enjoy your stories, this one is no exception. Still being somewhat new to this site I like to read the archived stories, and I have read all of yours now. Simply outstanding. Thank you for sharing your stories. Great scenes between T&T. Your writing talent is indeed superior in all respects. However, those were American P51 Mustangs on the show. It was the US Army Air Force shooting at the shuttlepod, not the Luftwaffe. Great first chapter, can't wait to read the rest. Great first chapter, can't wait to read the rest. Wonderful! Can't wait for the next chapter! Thanks for the information Pendant about the fighter craft. I am sending a corrected version which will get posted up in due course. It means the next part will be delayed as the story will take a slightly different story arc from that originally envisioned. Ali D :~) Wonderful story! I'm looking forward to the next chapter. |