...Touching and Touched - Part 7

...Touching and Touched

by Hopeful Romantic

Rating: PG-13, for language and some violent imagery
Disclaimer: Star Trek: Enterprise is the property of CBS/Paramount. All original material herein is the property of its author.

A/N: Thanks again to pookha, for coming up with a “what-if” notion for a sketchy character and letting me gallop off with it. Also, thankee to Ligeia for more engineering know-how.

Date: 12-1-05

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

Part Seven

Chapter 9: Finally

T’Pol ushered Ambassador Soval into her quarters. Karyn thought he looked wonderfully distinguished in his pale gray ambassadorial robes. He gazed at her shimmering wedding gown and flowing veil with an appreciation that seemed nostalgic, somehow.

“Pale blue, almost like ice,” he said quietly, repeating her earlier description. “This is the color I pictured...the color I remember. Is the design your own?”

“My great-grandmother’s,” she replied. She wondered what memory he had been visiting. From the look in his eyes, it was a fond one. “It’s Ikaaran.”

“An appropriate choice,” he nodded. Graciously, he held out his arm. “Are you ready, Niece?”

Karyn had a sudden flash of memory herself...she was nine years old, standing with her father on the bridge of Enterprise, watching Captain Lorian save a shipful of people by using little more than calm resourcefulness and that reassuring, dulcet baritone voice. She had decided then and there that she wanted to marry him.

“I’ve been ready for seventeen years, Uncle,” she replied, taking his arm.

Soval arched a silver eyebrow. “Then by all means, let us proceed.”

-- -- --

They really could have used more room.

Cargo Bay Two was SRO. Nearly a hundred fifty people had happily packed themselves into the cavernous room, now transformed into a silk-walled, flower-bedecked dreamland for the wedding. Lorian and Karyn’s former crew had been joined by a number of personnel from Columbia and the Starfleet compound, and a sizable contingent from Enterprise’s engineering crew.

In the front row, not far from Admiral Gardner and Captain Hernandez, Catherine sat in an aisle seat, willing herself not to look around for Chuck again. Jonathan will bring him, she told herself. She focused on the flower-accented podium, trying to concentrate on the music softly wafting through the room. Whoever had made the selections—she figured on that crackerjack quartermaster, Lt. Hendley—had good taste. She’d heard Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No. 4 and Cantata No. 147, Corelli’s Pastorale, and Chopin’s Nocturne in E Flat. As Faure’s Pavane began, Catherine wondered if Hendley would be equally creative with the wedding party’s entrance music...Clarke’s Trumpet Voluntary, perhaps.

She heard a courteous voice behind her. “Ma’am? I believe this belongs to you.”

Catherine turned to see Jon, with a twinkle in his eye, delivering Chuck to the seat she’d saved for him. “Thank you kindly,” she said with relief. “Now would you please get this show on the road?”

“The bride is on her way,” Archer assured her. He gave her a polite little bow, looking like an overgrown Eagle Scout, then took his place at the podium.

As Chuck sat beside her, Catherine gave him a once-over. He seemed a tad more settled. “I was wondering about you,” she murmured.

Chuck took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Sorry if I made you worry.” He shook his head wryly. “I’ve had so much information dumped on me in the last four hours, I can’t even see which way is up anymore. I mostly still feel like I’m in shock.”

“I’ll keep you warm and safe until you come out of it.” Catherine hooked her arm through his, snuggling close. “It’s like Jon said before. It doesn’t all have to make sense.”

Chuck kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks, hon.”

“For what?”

“Bein’ patient with me.”

Catherine smiled. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

There were only four crewmen on duty in engineering. Three were glued to the auxiliary monitors at their stations, watching the feed from the cargo bay, chatting back and forth to each other over their internal comm in eager anticipation of the wedding as they worked their consoles.

The fourth crewman was Ensign Nick Masaro. Now was the perfect opportunity for him to hack into Commander Tucker’s computer—which was precisely why he’d volunteered to stay in engineering during the ceremony.

Nick ignored the view of the cargo bay on all the secondary monitors as he sat at Tucker’s workstation. Using the decryption sequencer his Terra Prime contact had given him that morning, he broke into the commander’s system within seconds. He felt vaguely uncomfortable rooting around in the chief’s files; he still had a lot of respect for the man. But what he was doing was for Tucker’s good, as much as anyone else’s—to free him from the influence of that Vulcan woman.

Quickly, Nick began hunting for the sim generator he’d overheard Tucker telling T’Pol about when they had come in together two days ago. Nick had been around the corner from Tucker’s workstation, running a systems check on the coolant regulators, and had been able to listen in. Tucker had told T’Pol that he knew now how troubled she still was, even after all these months. He said the battle simulation he was working on would tell them, one way or the other, whether her command ability had been affected.

Nick had been waiting ever since, for an opportunity to get a look at that battle sim.

He located the sim generator. He could feel his heart beating more quickly as he loaded it. Contained here, he hoped, was evidence he could take to his upcoming meeting with Paxton: incontrovertible evidence of T’Pol’s incompetence, something that could be leaked to the brass at HQ and get her tossed off Enterprise’s senior staff, maybe off the ship itself...maybe even out of Starfleet.

The program’s opening screen came up. Welcome, Commander Tucker, the graphic greeted him. Choose your scenario from the following options. There was only one battle scenario listed: AZATI PRIME.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Pavane ended, leaving a significant silence in the cargo bay. The guests rustled with anticipation. Catherine saw Jon give a small nod to someone in back—it was Hendley, who spoke quietly into a communicator. Then the buoyant strings of Pachelbel’s Canon in D filled the air, and the groom and best man entered the cargo bay. The wedding ceremony was underway.

Lorian and Trip walked side by side up the center aisle, as the crowd gawked admiringly at Lorian’s ivory and blue wedding robes. His crew had never seen him in traditional Vulcan dress before, much less formal ceremonial regalia. Father and son took their places at the podium, to Archer’s left, then turned to face the door, awaiting the arrival of the bride.

To almost everyone else in the room, Lorian undoubtedly looked perfectly composed. But Catherine saw his faintly fidgeting hands. He was a nervous groom, the sweet thing. As she watched, Trip laid his hand lightly on Lorian’s back, providing a father’s calming touch. Lorian relaxed almost at once.

Trip smiled at him with a paternal affection that left Catherine unexpectedly moved. It reminded her of how much her son had matured over the past two years. And no wonder—he’d lost and grieved, survived a war, found love, and gained a family. He had adapted to extraordinary changes, becoming stronger and more sure of himself. She couldn’t be more proud of him.

Watching him talking softly with Lorian and Jon, smiling at some passing comment, Catherine wished she had a camera. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of Hendley’s crew kneeling unobtrusively nearby, discreetly snapping pictures. Hendley had evidently thought of everything, bless his heart.

Lorian lightly clasped his hands in front of him, all visible signs of nervousness gone now. Catherine heard Chuck murmur under his breath, “Atta boy.” So he had seen Lorian’s jitters, too. She was enormously pleased that Chuck had taken such a shine to this suddenly revealed, half-Vulcan grandson. Her husband had come a lot farther than he realized.

As Pachelbel’s melody splintered off into intricate counterpoint, the cargo bay door opened again and T’Pol entered, a portrait of lovely, elegant simplicity in her flowing midnight blue gown, carrying her pretty bouquet of blue irises.

Catherine grinned as she saw Trip’s jaw drop at the sight of his beloved. For the time it took T’Pol to reach the podium, the rest of the universe apparently ceased to exist for him. As she took her place on Archer’s right, even Lorian looked amused at the expression on Trip’s face.

Then the center of the universe shifted to the doorway again, becoming an opalescent ice-blue beauty with a smile as luminous as the sun. Karyn entered on Ambassador Soval’s arm, her elaborate wedding bouquet cascading down in front of her shimmering gown, her silver crown gleaming in her jet-black hair. She gasped softly in delight at her first view of the floral wonderland...and then her gaze fell on Lorian.

As fun as it was to watch the crowd look at Lorian and Karyn, Catherine found it much more touching to watch the two of them look at each other. Karyn’s smile softened, becoming much more personal, for him alone. Lorian, while maintaining his calm Vulcan demeanor in this public venue, could not keep his expressive blue eyes from revealing the love that filled his heart. He stood transfixed as his bride and the ambassador glided up the aisle toward him, accompanied by the appreciative murmurs of the guests.

Karyn heard the music building to its pleasantly jubilant finish as Soval brought her to the podium and bowed formally over her hand. Impulsively, she reached up and kissed him on the cheek. He hesitated only a moment, then softly touched his lips to her forehead.

Karyn felt goosebumps rise on her skin, as if she had been somehow blessed by the old Vulcan’s gentle kiss. She sensed that Soval’s gesture was more than simply an act of diplomatic courtesy. She looked up at him, and saw gentle warmth in his wise brown eyes. Then his lips quirked up ever so slightly, and Karyn felt her heart melting. Soval stepped away, taking a seat in the front row next to Admiral Gardner, and Karyn and Lorian turned to face one another.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As Nick stared at the cursed words glowing on the monitor screen, memories of the bloodbath of Azati Prime rose up around him, still as sharp and painful as broken glass: the choking smoke, the shouts and screams, the sickly stench of burning bodies...and Commander Tucker’s voice ringing through the chaos, giving orders, working desperately to keep his people alive, to keep the ship alive.

Nick was blown off his feet when the first EPS tap overloaded. He slammed against the aft bulkhead as he heard the rest of the plasma outlets going up in a chain reaction of explosions. His head felt as though it had been split in two. Gradually his vision cleared...and then he saw Angie two meters away, engulfed in flames.

He knocked her to the deck and rolled her, smothering most of the fire. As he stamped out her burning hair with his bare hands, he felt icy CO2 smoke cascading over them both. Tucker was there with a fire extinguisher. As soon as the flames were out, the chief knelt, taking in Angie’s injuries with one quick, anguished sweep of his eyes. “Get her to sickbay, and stay there,” he told Nick. “You don’t look much better.” There was a shout for help around the corner, and Tucker took off, extinguisher in hand.

Nick swept his sister up in his arms and carried her to sickbay, though his lungs burned and there was blood stinging his eyes, half-blinding him. Sickbay was already filling up with injured, but Phlox rushed over as soon as he saw Angie. He had the same look of restrained horror on his face that Nick had seen from Tucker. Nick hovered beside the biobed, refusing to be treated or led away, as Phlox worked on Angie, running scans, then attaching some awful contraption to her chest that made her whole body jump. Nick found himself staring incongruously at the charred remains of Angie’s lustrous blond hair. He knew she would be beside herself when she found out about her hair.

When Phlox told him Angie was gone, Nick didn’t believe him. He laughed, as sickbay began to tilt like a funhouse ride, and Angie played dead on the biobed. Nick explained to Phlox what a practical joker she was, that she’d been pulling stunts like this since they were kids. Phlox must have missed something. Nick wiped fresh blood out of his eyes and peered at the biobed indicators, wondering why they were all pointing to zero. Stubbornly, he tapped at them, trying to make them work. They had to be broken. Angie was just playing...

Nick spent the next two days in sickbay with a concussion, trying to picture life without his sister. They’d gone through Starfleet Training together, been posted to Enterprise together. He felt incomplete now, without Angie.

And it was all the fault of that Vulcan woman. She had been in command during the battle. It was her incompetence that had gotten Angie killed.

Nick had nursed his resentment of T’Pol in sullen silence since that day, cursing her presence on Enterprise, cursing the Vulcans for foisting her on Captain Archer in the first place, cursing Starfleet for making her Archer’s first officer instead of Commander Tucker, who rightly deserved to be XO. And when it became clear that Tucker had fallen for her, Nick blamed her for putting a spell on the chief, for stringing him along. But Nick was alone in his disgust over their relationship—the rest of the engineering crew adored the idea. So he kept his thoughts to himself.

It was on Earth, after Angie’s memorial, when Nick was on a drunken rant about Vulcans in general, and T’Pol in particular, that he’d been approached by a member of Terra Prime. The next few days had been a heady whirlwind—being whisked to the Orpheus mining complex on the Moon and welcomed with open arms by the sympathetic, like-minded Primers, feeling for the first time that he was among friends who understood his loss, his frustration. He didn’t feel the need to censor himself with the Primers, not the way he did on Enterprise. So he talked a blue streak, about how T’Pol was rewarded for her ineptitude by being given a commission by Starfleet, how Tucker was making a fool of himself over her, how she would surely double-cross him sooner or later, just as her son Lorian had—

As soon as Nick explained about Lorian, he suddenly found himself face-to-face with none other than John Frederick Paxton, the great man himself. Paxton ushered Nick into his private office and asked him endless questions about Lorian. Admittedly, Nick didn’t know very much. He’d heard that Phlox—the other Phlox—had made a human/Vulcan hybrid possible after some experimentation. He’d seen Tucker and Lorian together in engineering, seen how quickly the chief had accepted his “son’s” existence, even taking quite a liking to him. But Lorian had turned out to be just as untrustworthy as any Vulcan, when he betrayed Captain Archer and almost destroyed Enterprise.

Paxton didn’t seem surprised that the half-breed inherited the worst of his Vulcan parent. The news merely confirmed that interbreeding between Vulcans and humans would be disastrous. Paxton was only sorry that the vivid cautionary example of Lorian would be forever withheld from the public, classified by Starfleet along with time travel. But Nick’s tale had shown him a new way to shake some sense into the world—and perhaps rescue Tucker from the clutches of the Vulcan woman as well. Paxton would create another half-breed creature...with Nick’s help.

It had been a simple thing, really, to sneak into sickbay during the refit, with security fairly lax within the confines of Spacedock. Nick was just one more crewman scurrying to and fro among the workers. After a quick trip to the medical freezer to spirit away a portion of the bio-samples of Tucker and T’Pol, his sacred mission for Terra Prime was accomplished.

Once he had delivered the samples, Nick had another audience with Paxton, who solemnly thanked him for his contribution to the cause, and handed him an important new assignment: to act as Terra Prime’s eyes and ears on Enterprise.

Nick duly reported back to Terra Prime when T’Pol returned from Vulcan married—to someone other than Tucker. Sure enough, she had been stringing him along. Curiously, the two of them remained friends, though an almost physical wall of propriety flew up between them; Tucker’s Southern honor, in full force. Too bad it wouldn’t save him. As soon as Paxton’s hybrid creature—one never said “child” or “baby” when referring to Paxton’s project—was revealed to the world, Tucker would be viewed not only as unprofessional, but immoral: a married officer’s lover. Hardly the standard Starfleet expected of its senior officers, or its war heroes. Nick felt badly for the chief, but Tucker had become an unfortunate casualty of war—a war humanity was fighting to preserve its own purity.

Then the other Enterprise returned, and suddenly Lorian wasn’t a classified secret any longer. And all of Nick’s comforting new beliefs were thrown into turmoil.

With the chance to get a closer look at T’Pol’s spawn, Nick volunteered to assist the refugee crew of the other Enterprise by lending a hand in sickbay. He was surprised to find that Lorian didn’t come off as a selfish, scheming Vulcan monster at all. The man was obviously injured and exhausted, but nevertheless concerned only with the well-being of his people. His Vulcan reserve wasn’t stiff or off-putting either, but calm, barely concealing his grief over his dead mother.

Lorian’s return triggered a shift in the chief’s odd friendship with the Vulcan woman, too. During the Borderland mission, the two of them seemed drawn to each other like magnets, though they still avoided touching. That moony-eyed look was back on Tucker’s face—Nick even overheard him mention Romeo and Juliet to her one day in engineering—and T’Pol was more personable and serene than she’d been in the Expanse. She was actually...likable. Nick was beginning to wonder whether he was as wrong about T’Pol as he had been about Lorian.

No—he couldn’t be. T’Pol had killed Angie. That hadn’t changed.

Nick pushed his memories and uncertainties aside, and focused on the simulator program. If T’Pol was still uneasy about Azati Prime now, so many months after the battle, surely it was a sign of her guilt. The battle sim would verify it. This evidence might even be enough to persuade Paxton to abandon his plan to create the creature. Tucker’s career need not be ruined, after all; T’Pol would hang herself with Azati Prime.

He opened the scenario. It was the standard computer-generated battle sim, the kind of reconstruction routinely made for post-combat analysis. Nick inserted a data module into the console and set it to record. Then he selected Captain Archer’s profile from the personnel database and entered it into the commander module.

He launched the simulation. The battle unfolded as a rotating three-dimensional nightmare, with data flashing on the screen to report the “commander’s” decisions and orders, based on the program’s interpretations of Archer’s psych profile. The casualty list appeared at the bottom of the screen, and started growing.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As she and Lorian faced each other, Karyn felt all the emotions that had been building within her for the past four hours of whirlwind preparations...for the past two months of their courtship...in truth, for the past seventeen years she’d nurtured her secret love for Lorian. They filled her to overflowing now, too much to be harbored in a single heart. She could already feel tears welling in her eyes. Shmoopy Archer romanticism, she thought, as she tried to blink them back.

One tear escaped, spilling down her cheek. Before she could brush it away, Lorian touched his finger gently to her face, capturing the tear on his fingertip. She sensed a surge of emotion from him...love so deep and pure that it left her fighting back more tears. She leaned close to him. “I feel you,” she whispered, her breath soft against his lips. She watched his face fill with awe as he realized what she meant.

Archer addressed the assemblage, reading from the parchment and notes that he had set on the podium before him. “In this vast Expanse of darkness and uncertainty, there is always hope for the future. And with hope, there is always love.”

Karyn saw Lorian’s eyes light with recognition. He’d recited those words himself over three decades ago, when he had married her parents. He looked pleased as Archer continued. “We have come together, in the presence of family and friends, to celebrate Lorian and Karyn’s vows of marriage.” He turned to Lorian. “Lorian, will you take Karyn to be your wedded wife, to love, cherish and ennoble her, to bestow upon her your heart’s deepest devotion?”

Lorian gazed into Karyn’s deep brown eyes, still glittering with unshed tears. “I will.”

Archer looked to his great-granddaughter. “Karyn, will you take Lorian to be your wedded husband, to love, cherish, and ennoble him, to bestow upon him your heart’s deepest devotion?”

Karyn’s expression was radiant as she held Lorian’s eyes. “I will.”

“Please hold hands,” Archer said. Karyn passed her bouquet to T’Pol, then took Lorian’s hands in both of hers.

In the audience, Abbie Mayweather, hopeless romantic, was already sniffling. Tony had a handkerchief ready and waiting for his wife.

“Lorian, repeat after me,” Archer went on. “‘I choose you, Karyn, to be my wife...’”

Lorian repeated the vows, his resonant voice a bit rough with emotion. “I choose you, Karyn, to be my wife, to stand by your side, to support you and comfort you, to challenge and be challenged by you, to trust you in all ways and be faithful to you in all things.”

“Karyn, repeat after me...”

Karyn glanced at her great-grandfather. There was a glow of happiness about him that, for this moment, banished every trace of the haunted anguish that had shadowed him these past months. They shared a smile, before Karyn turned back to Lorian and repeated her vows as Archer recited them. “I choose you, Lorian, to be my husband, to stand by your side, to support you and comfort you, to challenge and be challenged by you, to trust you in all ways and be faithful to you in all things.”

Archer nodded to Trip and T’Pol. The best man and maid of honor handed the wedding rings to him.

Anna Hess and Michael Rostov were sitting together a few rows back, wearing twin dreamy smiles. “So beautiful,” Hess murmured. Rostov nodded.

Archer placed the gold wedding band in Lorian’s hand. “Lorian, as you place this ring on Karyn’s finger, let her hear your heartsong.”

Lorian froze, clutching the gold wedding band as he nervously held Karyn’s left hand. He remembered this part of the ceremony, which Charlie and Olivia Archer had based on traditional Ikaaran rites. The groom and his bride were now to speak intimately of their love for each other as they exchanged rings. Lorian had never publicly revealed the depth of his feelings for Karyn, and now a room full of people was waiting for him to bare his soul. He found himself paralyzed by the same crippling shyness that plagued him as a child, all coping mechanisms forgotten.

He felt Karyn’s other hand closing over his trembling fingers, holding them soothingly. As he felt her touch melting his anxiety away, she smiled tenderly at him, her eyes warm and reassuring. Perhaps she had sensed his panic. He yearned to feel her emotions as well. If only their empathic link went both ways! Soon now...tonight. When they were bonded, he would at last be able to feel the touch of her soul.

The thought tantalized him, even as it gave him peace, and the calm to speak. He focused on her, letting the rest of the assemblage fade away. “I never imagined I would know love. I fully expected to live the remainder of my life alone, dutiful and ascetic.” He cocked his head wryly at Karyn, almost in reproach. “But you did surprise me with that kiss.”

The guests broke into laughter. Karyn giggled, blushing sweetly. “I have an early memory of you,” Lorian continued, “as a shy doll-child peeking out at me from behind your mother. You became a skilled crewman...my trusted first officer, touched by tragedy, as I had been...and my closest friend. I considered myself quite fortunate. But when you opened your heart to me, and awakened in me the first stirrings of love, you filled me with a joy I thought I would never know. You transformed me forever.”

There were tears glistening in Karyn’s eyes again. She looked indescribably beautiful to him. He held out the gold wedding band. “This ring, fashioned of Terran gold, etched with Vulcan script, speaks of love born of friendship. My father gave it to my mother, and now I give it to you.”

Karyn’s breath caught, and another tear coursed down her cheek. “As you wear it,” Lorian said, “let us rejoice in our differences, and in the meaning and beauty created by our union.” He slipped the gold band onto her finger. “With this ring, I pledge my life to your happiness.”

She looked speechlessly at the ring, momentarily overcome. Then she smiled at him, before accepting the other wedding ring from Archer. “Karyn,” he said, “as you place this ring on Lorian’s finger, let him hear your heartsong.”

With a start, Lorian recognized the characteristic rainbow sheen of the silvery ring. Karyn was giving him her father’s ring, the ring that had been passed down from father to son for a hundred years. The realization overwhelmed him.

As Karyn took Lorian’s left hand, she gazed serenely at him. “I have loved you all my life. I will love you all my life. You have been my hero, my commander, my teacher, my solace, and my best friend. The more I saw in you, the deeper I fell...your courage, your compassion, your sense of humor.” He saw a merry sparkle come to her eyes. “Your fondness for swashbuckler movies. Your sexy dancing.”

The crowd chuckled appreciatively, and Lorian felt himself blushing. Karyn’s expression grew gentle. “Your shy charm...and your loneliness. But you weren’t alone, love. I was holding you in my heart, waiting for the war to set you free...and dreaming about you. The reality is better than all my dreams.”

Lorian swallowed hard, endeavoring to keep his welling emotions at bay, as Karyn held up the iridescent ring. “This ring of songstone, from the mountains of Ikaar, was blessed by the Spirits of the Skies, who grant the desires of the heart. It sings with the love of three generations past. As you wear it, let us celebrate our joining, and add our harmony to its song.” She slid the ring onto his finger. “With this ring, I pledge my life to giving you joy.”

They remained with hands clasped, regarding each other with contented adoration, as Archer spoke to the entire room. “Lorian and Karyn have pledged their faith and declared their unity. They are now joined in mutual esteem and devotion. I now pronounce that they are husband and wife.” He smiled at Lorian. “You may kiss your bride.”

Lorian pulled his wife—his wife!—to him, intending to give her a brief, chaste kiss, befitting a public setting such as this one. However, as soon as he touched his lips to hers, he felt all his decorous intentions crumbling. Then she parted her lips invitingly, and he was lost. He fell headlong into her kiss, cradling her in his arms, bending her back into a romantic dip. Karyn responded eagerly, caressing the back of his neck as she hummed contentedly into his mouth. Dimly, he heard Beau Greer leading the rest of the E² crew in a lusty round of applause, punctuated with whoops and cheers.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Angie kept dying.

Nick stared at the screen, uncomprehending. He’d run the battle sim four times now, but no matter which personnel profile he plugged into the module as “Captain” during the battle—Archer, Tucker, Lt. Commander Reed, even the MACO leader, Major Hayes—the result was the same. The program dispassionately spat out a laundry list of casualties, and Angie’s name was always on it.

Even more disturbing was that none of the other commander models had improved on T’Pol’s actual performance during the real Azati Prime battle. The sim-Archer had exactly matched her casualty list of eighteen, down to the personnel named. With Tucker in command, twenty-four had died; with Reed, twenty-seven; Hayes, twenty-nine.

It had to be a fluke. Nick needed a reliable baseline. He set up one more sim, using the program’s own Virtual Captain as the commander model. The computerized captain’s decisions would be based on the Starfleet Officers Training program.

He launched the sim, scarcely even registering the applause and cheers coming from the monitors tuned to the ceremony in the cargo bay. He watched grimly as the battle played out again, as the casualty list mounted.

When the program ended, there were twenty dead. Including Angie.

T’Pol and Archer had out-performed the computer program. And Angie had died every time.

Nick removed his data module from Tucker’s console and stared numbly at it. All the sims he’d run had been recorded onto it. He had his proof now...proof that T’Pol was a perfectly capable commander during the Azati Prime conflict. She was no more responsible for Angie’s death than Archer or Tucker would have been, had they been sitting in the captain’s chair.

Nick had been completely wrong about her.

What else had he been mistaken about? The Vulcans? Aliens? Terra Prime? John Paxton? But...Vulcans had murdered humans at the embassy. Nick was all mixed up now. He didn’t know what to believe anymore.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In the front row, Catherine watched Lorian and Karyn’s romantic smooch with delight. Now she had two Vulcans in the family who knew how to please their mates. Beside her, Chuck smiled broadly. “Definitely a Tucker man,” he observed, sending his wife bursting into laughter.

Nearby, Admiral Gardner looked on with a shocked smile, as Captain Hernandez shook her head in admiration. “‘Enigmatic Commander Lorian,’ my ass!” she said.

“What’s that?” Gardner asked.

“It’s a nickname the crew gave him on Columbia.” Hernandez chuckled. “One that will be retired after today, I expect.”

At the podium, T’Pol averted her eyes, not wishing to stare at her son and daughter-in-law during their moment of celebratory indulgence. She noticed Trip trading an amused glance with Archer. Then Trip’s eyes met hers, and she felt the bond resonate warmly between them, aglow with parental contentment.

The newlyweds came up for air, still in each other’s arms, turning to their guests with twin expressions of sublime, only slightly embarrassed joy. As Trumpet Voluntary filled the air, the crew from engineering admired the Family portrait on display...the fairy-tale-worthy Lorian and Karyn, flanked by T’Pol and Tucker in their matching midnight blue, with Papa Archer centered behind them, decked out in his dress blues. Rostov double-checked to make sure Crewman Gaston was still taking pictures. They’d never see another tableau like this again.

The wedding guests gathered around the happy couple, offering congratulatory handshakes and hugs. Then Archer addressed the crowd. “We’ll see you all back at the Starfleet compound for the reception. Everyone make sure you check with Lieutenant Hendley on your way out—he’ll let you know how to get to your ships.”

He signaled to Hendley, at the cargo bay doorway. The chief quartermaster gave the captain a crisp nod...and, as they had planned earlier, he surreptitiously began handing directions to Callahan’s Jazz Club to the guests as they made their way out of the cargo bay.

Archer turned to Lorian and Karyn, casually easing their attention away from Hendley. “I have a little pull around here. I think I can get my hands on a shuttlepod, if you two need a lift planetside.”

Karyn curtsied gracefully. “Thank you, kind sir.”

Chuck and Catherine joined the Family at the podium, as T’Pol took Trip’s proffered arm. Trip smiled sweetly at Archer. “Might we hitch a ride in your chariot, too...Papa?”

Archer arched an eyebrow. “Excuse me, Commander?”

“You can’t ‘Commander’ your way out of this any longer,” Trip grinned. “She’s your great-granddaughter, and she just married my son.”

Archer tried to look authoritative. “Let’s get one thing straight—”

“O’ course, if Papa is Karyn’s own personal name for you, I’d be just as happy callin’ you Grandpa,” Trip said magnanimously.

Catherine’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, my lord...” She dissolved into laughter, burying her face in Chuck’s shoulder.

“This is gettin’ way too strange for me,” Chuck murmured.

Archer gave his best friend a mock scowl as he herded his family toward the door. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you? You’ve been lying in wait like a targ, getting ready to leap at me.”

“You don’t like Grandpa?” Trip asked innocently. “How about Pappy? Or Gramps? Or Pops?...”

~~tbc~~

Continue to Part Eight, Chapter 10

To return to Part Six, go to the ...Touching and Touched menu separation page to access the version appropriate for you.

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!

A whole mess of folks have made comments

Well done, well done! That was excellent. But then, I expected nothing less from such an amazing author! The Azati Prime bit was perfectly written. I can't wait to see what you do with Terra Prime now! (Oh, and when might Trip and T'Pol be seeing an altar? I want them to get their present!) Keep 'em coming! :)

Wow what a chapter!Azati prime and Terra Prime that was an unexpected twist please continue soon i can't wait to see what happens next.

Very nice, HR! I like the TP bit...it makes Masaro's actions actually make sense on the actual show! And I can so see Trip giving Archer crap like that..."Grandpa" indeed...

Loved it HR hey you're building up for something exciting huh? Not to be redundant but when are the other two crazy kids gettin' hitched.

Lovely update! Agree with the comments about Masaro-well done. I vote for 'Pappy'... ;)

-j

Loved the wedding, HR. :) So sweet and romantic. And I loved Trip's teasing Archer at the end. How about 'Pap-pa' (that's what my youngest niece calls my dad), lol. And Soval giving Karyn a little kiss, awww. Keep up the good work! Looking forward to the reception and the bonding ceremony. :)

Also that was a nice bit of background for why Masaro did what he did with taking TnT's genetic samples, and a good way to plant the seeds of guilt in him for his earlier actions with his realization that his sister still would have died no matter who was in command according to the sim.

Loved the whole chapter. Can't wait to see your version of the 'Terra Prime' episode. I'm assuming you will go through with the cloning of Baby Elizabeth. If you do, it's going to be great to see how the addition of a sibling of Lorian in this version will fit and if she will live or die.

Love the banter between Trip and Archer... and thanks for making Archer at least come out even with T'Pol in his command skills. Sometimes I think that man just don't get no respect 'round here! Terrific background on Masaro... and we finally get a wedding. Isn't that Pachabel's Canon a gorgeous piece of music? I had it played at my wedding... has it been 21 years ago already? Lord, time sure flies when you're havin' fun! : )

if the scenario includes input from the xindi the scenario is far worse if the ship is moved before the attack.
possible total destruction since the xindi had been watching the ship for awhile. and only the reptillians had broken rank to attack.
if the ship had attempted to leave it is possible if not probable that the entire xindi force present would have attacked.

very nicely played hr with the whole visit to paxton and the terra primers.

i am curious in how this will play out.

ahh the wedding .
loved the music selections and yep i suspect trip had thought for awhile about his chance to start teasing jon.

wow, wonderfully written.
I also like the way you built up the Terra Prime storyline and Nick's reason for becoming a Primer and still his inner trumult.
I sincerily hope baby Lizzie will be created and will survive this time.
Please don't let us wait too long for the next chapter.

This was a great piece of reading, and Pachelbel's canon-very nice touch. Keep it coming, I can't wait for what's going to happen next, and for the sake of my sanity, please don't keep us hanging too long.

Oh that was so sappy and perfect...
and you are so evil! We have to wait longer?

Delightful. A wonderful wedding. Earier you showed them setting up a shipwide feed so I picture them broadcasting the wedding to Columbia via fleetlink. Then I picture other Starfleet crews hearing there is a wedding and tuning in to the link and starfleet personal all over the Sol system watching the wedding.

been enjoying this from the beginning. very nice wedding. *sniff*

NICK!!! Oh thank goodness you've come to your senses but what have you done? Baby Lizzie!!! With big brother Lorain around will you be saved this time?

Music choices superb!

Loved it all, great stuff HR. All the plot developments are superbly portrayed and so 'seeable'. Part 8 please!!!!!!!!.........

Great loved the movement from character to character. Your dialogue is always so well done.
Please don't keep us waiting too long!

Yeah Yeah I know Im late,,, but I have a good excuse,,, I was In Texas.,,,,,,,,,, Ok On to the great an beautiful subject at hand,, the story.,,,,,,, First off beautiful weddin,, so sweet,,,,, Loved the vows,, truely beautiful,,,,,,,,,,, Ok An that end scene where Trip keeps pickin on Archer in a friendly way,, GOD that had me LOL.,,,,,,,, Ok I have to ask an I know Ya said an gave TnT a sorta unofficial marriage,,, But Come on it aint fair that their son can get legal hitched before they can,,,, Yer breakin my heart here hon those two need to be hitched already,,,,,,, Sorry but Im just tryin to get to the weddin Ive really been waitin for since Ya started these stories of yours hon.,,,,,,, An I loved the Nick story line,,,,,,, an how he blaimed T'pol for his sisters death,, an then to late realised he made a misstake,,,, But Thinkin how Ya had that with the A-Prime sim,,, Ya had T'Pol do just as well as Archer did,,,, But since she was sufferin from the Trell-D withdrawl at the time of that battle,, so if she had not ever been on that crap,, she may of performed better or worse it could of gone either way,, since Im bettin the Program took in to accont her actual choises in that battle,, an not on her peronality profile,,,,,,, Just somethin ya made me think about,,,, An I kinda like that a Not all there T'pol did just as well as an all there Archer would of in that hopeless battle.,,, Sorry I know yera more Romatic writer But I cant help but Like it when stories get more in to the scifi an battle stuff of Trek to hon. ;),,,,,,,,,,,,,,, Ok Back to the TnT family,,, Weddin was perfect an I cant wait for the reception,,,,,,, An Since Ya have Lorian an Karyn workin in a covert way with Soong to make a healthy T'sibbling for Lorian,,, are Ya planin on havin Phlox bring Soong In to help try an save Elizabeth?? Or are ya gona leave that sweety healthy as a Horse instead??,,,,, Sorry for jumpin ahead hon,,, But Ya got the gears turnin in my head with this chappie.,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, Oh An Soval is such a softie,,,,,, Ya ever gona intraduce us to that Ol Mans family??

Oh One last thing,,, Lorian really is the son of TnT aint he LOL. Poor Guy emotional an all vulcan doin the "logical thing" all at the same time,,,,,, So How Long in yer stories before theirs a pointy eared, faint forehead ridged Granbaby on the way for TnT. :P,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, Ok thats all I got this time HR,,, Great job loved it all,,, Keep up this perfect writin hon.

Just read your whole series again in the last couple of days. Love it, so looking forward to read more.