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Time Will Tell - Pt 8

Author - Evalyn A.
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Time will tell

by Evalyn A

Rating: G. T’Pol’s POV, May be archived, just let me know.
Disclaimer: Not making a dime off of this, they belong to Paramount, they don’t belong to me, although finally they’re starting to act as if they did.
May be archived, just let me know.
A/N: This is the first in a continuing series of personal log entries made by T’Pol during her time on Enterprise, starting with season one.
A/N: This is part of a continuing series of personal log entries made by T’Pol during her time on Enterprise.

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Part 8

I killed a man. I do not know to this day if this was a fate he had chosen by becoming a smuggler of bio-toxins, or whether he was simply a man who could no longer tolerate the lies and hypocrisy that the life of an intelligence operative eventually becomes, and who had sought the company of other fugitives to survive.

I also do not know why this action, this taking of a life, affected me to the degree that it did, for surely it was not logical to blame myself for following the orders of my superiors.

As an operative, I was rarely privy to the sum total of the information that would allow me to make an intelligent judgement as to the nature and extent of the guilt of those I pursued. I would be presented with a file that detailed the crimes and circumstances, and left to take the necessary steps to limit the damage.

Had I questioned the veracity of every detail in those files, I should never have completed a single mission, even less succeeded in making the thirty-two apprehensions I had performed over the course of the five years I spent as an operative.

But this was the first time I had seen, in apprehending the man I sought, not a criminal, but a young man barely out of adolescence that had been overcome by circumstances – a fugitive, a victim of society, and of expectations – someone, in fact, who had perhaps wanted the life of an intelligence operative as little as I and who had fled when the first opportunity presented itself. As he died, I could see in him a mirror of myself.

More than once, I had wondered what it would be like to walk away from the life that had been forced upon me by a series of events and decisions that had made my induction into Intelligence seem inevitable. But I could not walk away – it would not have been logical, and would have shamed all those that had expectations of me. So I stayed. And I yearned for escape.

Jossen’s death, ironically, had provided me with that escape. When I broke, I became a liability that they were only too glad to ship off for the memory purging ritual of Fullara. It was a ritual that removed all memory of the pain, and fear, and death, that removed from my memories the haunting images of a young man, lying on the jungle floor, bleeding and broken – a young man who time and again in my mind transformed into a young woman, screaming in a Vulcan monastery, all alone.

None of my family came to see me during the time spent in the ritual. Nor any of those I might have called my friends before my induction into Intelligence. Not even my long-time mentor Soval. Perhaps they wished to grant me my privacy and my dignity. I completed the ritual as alone as I had started it, but at least with the agony, and the memories, removed.

So when I asked Captain Archer to accompany me on the mission to retrieve Menos, I truly did not know why. I simply knew I needed to be accompanied by someone I could trust – that I could not be alone with no one to help me bear the burden. Why this mission seemed such a burden was unclear to me. I was operating on instinct – a very un-Vulcan thing to do, but something Intelligence operatives did more often than they would admit. As it turned out, of course, it was not instinct, but buried memories, and requesting Archer’s presence was entirely rational. Had he not been there when the memories returned, and the agonies with them, I should surely have broken again. His presence permitted me to find my inner strength, and to apprehend Menos to stand trial for his crimes. And crimes they were, weapons smuggling of a most reprehensible nature. So, in the end, it was all for the best.

I am left with unanswered questions, however. Why had Jossen fled, from Vulcan, and from Intelligence? Had he found his life on Vulcan sterile and unfulfilling? Had he been revulsed by the actions requested of him by his superiors in Intelligence? Or had he simply been drawn by a life of high risk and even higher reward?

And why had Menos made the choices he had?

And, most of all, why had Soval assigned me to retrieve Menos, knowing as he did all that had passed before? Had he assumed that the effects of the Fullara would prevail, and that I would carry out my duties efficiently and without recollection? Or had he suspected that I would either break again, as I had before, or be forged in the fire of my self-doubt, transformed into something stronger? I would that he would answer such questions if asked. But I know that he would simply reply with some cryptic words of Surak, or castigate me for asking for more information than I was entitled to, depending on the way his day had gone.

Still, despite the nightmares I suspect I will endure until my meditations can dispel them, I will thank my mentor Soval for the task to which he assigned me. For whatever his reasons, the outcome has been a catharsis of sorts, and has, in addition, strengthened the bonds of friendship that I have formed with Captain Archer – perhaps not what Soval would have wished, of course.

I can hope that some of the answers I seek will be shown to me. In truth, I have spent little enough time in my life trying to understand myself, and the decisions that have led me to this point – not, I know now, from a lack of introspection, but for fear of what I should find. I have resolved that each night I will ask myself the questions I have been reluctant to formulate, until my nightmares have once again departed and I have found some peace in the choices I have made. For in the end, they have led me here, and considering all the places they could have led me, for that I find myself truly grateful.



Part 9


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Three people have made comments

A nice continuation of T'Pol's POV. An interesting read as always. Keep up the great work!

I love your Time Will Tell stories. Write more! And quickly! Thanks :)

I love these. It's fascinating to watch her personal reflections change over time. Please continue! We haven't gotten to the good stuff yet.