The Final...- Pt. 8

The Final Mission

Part Eight

by Aquila

Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Paramount owns the Star Trek universe.
Summary: A sequel to Starfleet Engineering
Category: Alternate Universe

==

Phlox and Yuris had collected the twins earlier. With no immediate responsibilities Trip decided to explore the facility. He got no further than the garden.

Open to the sky, the quadrangle was bisected by a stream of recycled water, artfully designed to look as if the facility had been built around a natural feature. The stream ran downhill, sparkling over rocks, to disappear into a calm pool. Golden fish glided just below the surface of the pond, rising to snap at unsuspecting insects that came to rest on the water’s surface. Ripples spread in circles at the moment of death. A curved wooden bridge arched across a waterfall that marked the beginning of the stream. Birds flitted through a copse of native coniferous trees at one end of the bridge. Strategically placed beds of wildflowers and native grasses were interrupted by boulders and patches of sand. It was a garden for contemplation.

Looking back, he understood that T’Pol had been the one to ask the tough questions as their lives evolved. How would we camouflage our relationship from the authorities? How could he maintain a career in Starfleet?

They had answered the questions together as partners, compromising to ensure the survival of their marriage. Since he and T’Pol were scientists, creating a research and development partnership would provide the opportunities for working together closely, without arousing the suspicion of authorities. Maintaining his Starfleet career was impossible. His business projects would be perceived as a conflict of interest. As a civilian he could contract to teach at the Academy, continuing to contribute to space exploration.

There was, he remembered, one life-changing event that occurred spontaneously. He had needed to communicate with T’Pol. The negotiations had taken a turn they had not anticipated. If he asked for a recess, they would lose their momentum. She was seated across the table, out of whispering range. He needed to talk to T’Pol.

She must have felt me staring he thought, because she turned her face towards me when I needed her the most. Casually she stroked her cheek with three fingers, and then closed her eyes. I hesitated, although her invitation was clear. We had never tried telepathic communication for anything other than heightening our physical pleasure. It was as if she were inviting me to play footsies under the boardroom table. I closed my eyes, apprehensively opening my mind as she had taught me.

“Charles, follow your instincts. Take the lead. I will follow.”

“Excuse me gentlemen,” Trip had called out to the buyers, “I think I have a solution that will save you a bundle of time and money.”

They landed their first intergalactic engineering contract that day and began the habit of using their telepathic skills to communicate during business negotiations.

Here in the present, his need to speak with T’Pol was as urgent as that moment long ago in a San Francisco boardroom.

==

Phlox found him in a lotus position on a flat rock in the middle of the garden. The professor had left no footprints in the sand. Phlox presumed he had scrambled from rock to rock to avoid disturbing the aesthetics of the garden. The doctor had no such qualms. The institute paid their gardeners handsomely. He took the most direct route to the rock nearest Trip.

“You must have many questions?”

Trip kept his eyes shut. “T’Pol was in the habit of quoting a lawyer, from a long time ago. Took me years to find out he was human. T’Pol appreciated irony. She would quote it every time I started looking for answers to questions:

“How amazing is it that, in the midst of controversies on every conceivable subject, one should expect unanimity of opinion upon difficult legal questions! In the highest ranges of thought, in theology, philosophy and science, we find differences of view on the part of the most distinguished experts – theologians, philosophers and scientists. The history of scholarship is a record of disagreements. And when we deal with questions relating to principles of law and their applications, we do not suddenly rise into a stratosphere of icy certainty.”

Phlox smiled, “Charles Evans Hughes. I looked it up after hearing her say it for the tenth time. As you intimated it was a rather surprising choice for a Vulcan.”

Trip opened his eyes, “Her sense of morality was more fluid than mine. She sure liked to apply logic to inconsistencies. I don’t like the gray areas much.”

“This situation is shrouded in gray, I’m afraid.” Phlox replied.

“Why aren’t they my biological sons?” Trip opened his eyes. “You had her pumped with hormones on her last leave.”

“During a routine physical examination, about eighteen months ago, I learned that her Pa’Nar syndrome had entered its final stages. The drugs she had been taking were no longer working. Our research here was not sufficiently advanced to offer her any hope.” Phlox paused to allow Trip to absorb what he was saying.

“She didn’t tell me.”

“When I suggested that she did, she was adamant that you were not informed. She did not want your last months together to be marred with morbidity.”

“Protecting me was a life time occupation for her.” Trip changed position on the boulder. “To her – humans were fragile creatures, who needed to be protected from themselves.”

“She was Vulcan.” Phlox reminded him unnecessarily. “Do you understand that virtually no scientific research exists about conception between Vulcans and Humans? We know more about Pa’Nar syndrome, and that is very little.”

“So you pumped her with hormones and sent her off to make babies with a Human for the good of Science?”

“You misunderstand me,” Phlox replied calmly. “She asked me to help her conceive a child with you. I did what I could.”

“Yet they aren’t mine?” Trip could barely contain his anger.

“She miscarried when she returned to Logon.”

The news that they had lost a child compounded his grief. Overwhelmed by sadness, he reeled. How could he grieve for something he never had? Had he carried an unacknowledged regret at being childless with him all these years? Questions, more and more questions. He needed answers.

TBC

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Three people have made comments

Oh.....

Oh Trip... Oh T'Pol...

Oh my!

Hurry with more please.

I love your Phlox!

This is a wonderful story! Can't wait to see where this goes!

Oh good grief, piling on the agony now! T'Pol miscarried with her and Trip's child and goes and gets impregnated by ANOTHER human. Ouch! I sure hope our boy gets some good news soon, my heart aches for the lad. Great writing yet again, hope the next part is up soon! Ali D :~)