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Author - Angel | E | Genre - Angst | Main Story | Rating - G
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Disclaimers: Alas, Paramount still owns Star Trek, all its many incarnations and characters. This is for entertainment only, and Iím not making a dime.
Genre: I donít know. Angst, maybe?
Summary: A night in the life of TíPol.
Spoilers: Little bit for ďHomeĒ.
TíPol of Vulcan lay still in her bed. Her eyes were closed even though she was awake. As her chest rose and fell softly, she absorbed the sounds and smells of the Vulcan night air drifting in through the window. The cry of a wild sehlat floated on the breeze and there was the rare odor of fresh rain, which was expected for later this evening.
In her mindís eye she could picture the night. The moonless sky would be lit by thousands of twinkling stars as the clouds drifted slowly in from the west. One star in particular fired her imagination. She watched it mentally and thought of the third planet orbiting it.
On that tiny rock, which she had dismissed in her youth as nothing more than a mild fascination, lived a people she had come to admire and respect. Among them, were some of the descendants of her first true friends. She was still relatively young for a Vulcan, only 147 years old, but she had already outlived all of them and most of their children. However, she was old for her age and soon she would be done with this life. It was logical. After all, she had sorely mistreated her body decades ago, and now she was paying for it.
Fortunately, her Paínar Syndrome had not impaired her as far as she had originally feared, but it had shortened her lifespan. The Trellium addiction was another matter. Her emotions remained close to the surface and over the past year had become almost impossible to control.
She drew a deep breath now and concentrated on relaxing. She was supposed to be sleeping, and if she didnít rest soon, she would be that much worse tomorrow. As she exhaled however, she opened her eyes and cast her gaze down at the hands lying flat across her abdomen. They were an old womanís hands and she wondered idly when they had acquired the wrinkles and dark spots that seemed to cover them. Raising them, she touched her hair softly and pictured the former luxurious black silk that was now replaced entirely with gray.
As her fingers combed through the dry locks, she traced the point of her ears. Her breath caught and a stray tear rolled silently down her cheek as a memory more than eighty years old flooded her fragile mind. Suddenly, she was young and beautiful again and in the decon chamber with Trip. He was rubbing warm gel over her ear tips.
From there, she was accosted with a myriad of memories. There was Trip, pregnant! Then Trip was smiling at her over the Captainís table. Trip, laughing at movie night. Tripís face when heíd learned of the Xindi attack. Trip crying when he finally accepted Elizabethís death. The feel of Tripís lips the first time she kissed him and the look of disappointment that followed the next morning when sheíd dismissed him as an experiment.
TíPol smiled broadly and cried simultaneously as her mind was assaulted with the images from the distant past. Her wedding to Koss flashed unbidden and the stress that followed it. Trip was there again, looking sad and a little lost. Then, the sight of him upon her return to Enterprise after her husbandís funeral. He was scared and unsure. She felt great joy at the memory of their renewed friendship. The sight of Trip on their own wedding day brought more tears. No man had ever looked so happy, except perhaps Trip again at the birth of their first child and each of the subsequent children.
Her mind overflowed with thoughts of their family. She could see herself and Trip with all four of the children. Time passed quickly now in her mental home movie. The children grew up, moved out, married and had children of their own. Trip aged beside her, and then the day came when she was alone again.
It had been nearly twenty years since Tripís death. Heíd lived to be ninety-eight and had died peacefully in his sleep, lying next to her. Most mornings she still expected to find him in the kitchen when she got up, making tea and reading the latest engineering journals.
TíPol breathed deeply again. Looking back, it had been a good life, filled with adventure and love and family. She decided that if tonight were her last night, she had no regrets. Of course, regrets were not logical anyway, but her logic had left her long ago. She closed her eyes to sleep before her granddaughter, TíLana checked on her.
She drifted off and envisioned herself as a young woman walking through the desert sands of her homeworld. In the distance, she thought she saw a man with light hair. As she got closer, she realized it was Trip as he had looked when she first knew him. They began to run toward each other and met halfway, embracing as he swung her around. As he set her down, he said softly, ďHey, darliní, Iíve been waitiní for yaí. Letís go now.Ē He turned to lead her deeper into the desert.
ďGo? Where will we go, Trip?Ē she heard herself ask even as she allowed him to hold her hand and guide her.
He cast a lopsided grin at her and answered, ďAnywhere we want, darliní!Ē He kissed her softly before indicating the distant desert and the crowd of people standing there waiting for them. She saw Captain Archer, Hoshi Sato, and all of her former shipmates. Gladly, she followed him.
The door to TíPolís bedroom opened quietly and a lovely young woman entered. Her sandy blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail and the delicately pointed tips of her ears peeked out from under loose strands. She walked to the bedside and reached out to check on the matriarch of her family. Her hand stilled as she approached the old womanís chest and she let it fall to her side. Even in the dark, she could see the stillness of the sheet and her Vulcan hearing detected no sounds of breathing. She turned the light on to double check and noticed the tender smile that pulled at her grandmotherís lips. Softly, TíLana stroked the cracked skin of her grandmotherís hand while a few tears flowed down her warm cheeks. Then, gathering her Vulcan mask about herself once more, she left the room to inform the family that TíPol of Vulcan was no more.
End Chapter One
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Eight hardy souls have made comments
Such a sweet, but sad story. Well written. I would love to see this story continued. Prequel perhaps?
Beautifully done, giving T'Pol a graceful end after a life filled with so much action and love. Adored her memories of Trip and it was really good to see the consequences of her earlier Trellium D addiction not being trivialised and forgotten but being a contributory factor in her early death. I was so happy when Trip met her in spirit and took her off to rejoin all their friends. This was wonderful, thank you. Ali D :~)
Awww, please contiue this! For me? LOL Aw come on! It's a looks like a good story to me! It is kinda sad though! :(
Awww!*sniffle sniffle* How sweet! *sniffle* Loved the dream with Trip leading her into the desert. It was so sweet! Loved it!
*sniffle* Beautiful,her life as it should be.
sad, but wonderful at the same time. Please continue.
Sniff... bwaaaaahhh... need more Kleenex... sniff...
very sad, i started to cry.., want them to live forever