By: Giggling Vulcan
Rating: PG-13 for Trip’s dirty mouth (2 wordydirties total)
SPOILERS FOR “HOME” AND POSSIBLE “THE FORGE” AND “AWAKENING”
Summary: Ding, dong, the snitch is dead! Which old snitch? Oh, you know which!
Disclaimer: *Bows to the almighty Paramount* Good…nice big mountain…don’t sue the little molehill…no money…no claims we has! Just nice Trip/T’Pol fun, my precious. Yes, precious…
A/N: I can’t believe no one’s thought of using this yet! Okay, this is just a little fun I had, taking a break from writing my sequel to “Parallels”, which I’m having a lot of fun with. Hope you like! Also, I don’t know much about the Syrrannites, so I don’t know if the ‘no modern weapon’ thing is true or not. It was prevalent to the story! So sue me! *gulps and looks at big, tall, towering Paramount mountain* On second thought…umm…might be better if you didn’t sue…uh…nice big mountain?
T’Pol’s fingers traced the silver embroidery on his robes gently as she stared down into his stoic face. He didn’t look any different than he had alive. His jaw was set squarely and unemotionally, not a hair on his dark head out of place. The pallor that overset his features was only slightly increased in annotatability. He resembled anything and everything Vulcan; everything Vulcan except her. She scrutinized his chiseled nose, his slanted brow…he was the model Vulcan. And every Vulcan she knew acted, looked, and was exactly as he was. Dead.
Vulcan death ceremonies were carried out with efficiency and without extraneousness. Short, sweet, and to the point. T’Pol stood, then, trying to think of what she would have possibly said had it been a human ceremony. “He died…logically.” She concluded. Trip would have laughed out loud at that. But unfortunately, Trip wasn’t here right now.
She glanced over his body one last time and turned to leave, her ceremonially dark robes billowing behind her. Her duties were done here now. She’d said her illogical goodbyes. She’d praised his abashed martyrdom. Whoever said Vulcan’s didn’t exhibit pride was highly uneducated. She’d made a fair imitation of it, herself.
She avoided the throngs of people still lingering in the chamber and made her way to the exit. The desert air was cool on her copper skin, a welcome change from the stuffy air of the chamber. She breathed it in gratefully and stared up into the dark expanse of the star dotted sky. It was a clear night and the stars were clearly visible. She felt rather nostalgic back on her own planet. She had spent many years of similar nights staring up at the stars from her home when she was younger, always wondering what was out there, what new discoveries there were to be made. If only she’d known how inhospitable that velvet expanse could be back then—how lonely it could get.
She shivered from the cold, wrapping her arms about herself wishing for some sort of coat to shield her from the biting wind. As if her wish had been granted she felt someone drape a warm jacket over her shoulders. The scent it emitted could only belong to one person.
“Commander?” Her question came out in a sigh as she opened her eyes and turned around.
“Gee, you’re good at that…” He said softly. “How are things goin’?”
T’Pol pulled the coat more tightly around herself. “As expected.” She said bluntly.
His deep blue eyes searched her, saw her tiredness and alleviated it with their tenderness. He was silent as if pondering what he should say next, obviously uncomfortable at the subject matter. “Why didn’t you tell us why you were coming here?” He asked quietly.
It was true, she hadn’t told them the nature of her absence. She had simply been contacted by Admiral Forrest and was recalled to Vulcan for a week. No questions asked. The only one aboard the ship who knew the reason was Captain Archer. She suspected that Trip had gone to him.
“I had to practically pry it outa Jon.” He confirmed her suspicions easily.
She glanced around nervously, looking anywhere but to him. “I did not believe it was necessary.” She said.
“You mean logical?” He scoffed. “Nothing’s right unless it’s logical, is it?” His words bit at her like an accusation, which was more or less what it was. They hadn’t spoken much since they’d returned from Vulcan after their leave there. The sad looks he shot at her every time they spoke did not surprise her, yet they didn’t go unnoticed. They had only spoken of ship’s business when they even spoke at all. Her invitations for neuro-pressure and meditation had fallen on deaf ears. It was as if he’d been purposefully distancing himself from her as of late. Yet, here he stood before her. He was the one who had come to her. He was the one she had wanted to come all along, but was too afraid to ask.
Her eyes were downcast now, staring shamefully at her feet. What had all this helped? He was dead and now she was back to square one with Trip. She couldn’t even look at him now without the chance of being scolded for how badly she’d screwed it up this time.
“I feel no remorse for his death.” She said coldly, turning away from him again.
He caught her by the hand and pulled her back around to face him. “That’s not the point, darlin’.”
“Please refrain from calling me anything other than my given name.” The ice in her tone burned him. She could see it in the hurt expression in his face. Nevertheless, he continued speaking.
“The point is, I don’t want you to think that you’re all alone now. Whether you like it or not, people care about you, T’Pol. A goddamn lot! That entire ship,” He pointed vaguely at the sky, “is worried about you. Hell, I’m worried sick about you. When you disappeared like that, I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know where you were. I thought something terrible had happened to you!” He cupped her cheek in his hand and tilted her face upward to look at him again. “I just wanted you to know that I still exist. I know I haven’t been such a great friend here lately. I guess it was just…well…” He thought about his predicament, how he’d had to force himself to keep his hands off. She was another man’s wife. But now?
“I know, Trip.” She whispered softly.
He sighed quietly, thankful that she understood. “I’m still all ears if you want to talk, ya know.” He reminded her. He caressed her cheek briefly before returning his hands to his sides.
She was quiet for a moment. “It is still difficult to accept his death, even though I remain apathetic about its repercussions.” She began. Trip nodded and waited for her to continue. “He was killed defending a base against radical Syrrannites.”
“He was shot?” Trip suggested, trying to help her get it out.
“Syrrannites do not believe in modern defense. They use traditional weapons. He was killed with a lirpa.”
“Oh…” Trip trailed off. He had no clue what a lirpa was, but it didn’t sound pleasant…
She was obviously getting uncomfortable talking about the subject at hand. She took one last look around, seeing the desert stretch on for miles in every direction. There were many roads weaving across the plains and dunes, each seeming to reach on endlessly. So many possibilities, so many differences.
“Infinite diversities in infinite combinations…”She whispered to the open land.
“What did you say?”
She spotted the shuttle pod that was sitting a few meters away from the moratorium. “You have come to retrieve me?”
“Yeah, whenever you’re ready to go. I already loaded your bags for you and we’re all set. But there’s no hurry. We’ll be in orbit for another day or so, however long you need.”
“I cannot find any logical reason to tarry any longer.” She said quietly.
“You really wanna get outa here, don’t ya?” He asked quietly.
She nodded silently. He grasped her hand firmly and led her towards the shuttle pod.
“Let’s get you home then, darlin’.”
He was right. It seemed that he was beginning to be correct about her more of the time now. She didn’t see this place as a home anymore. If a home was where one’s heart was, as the Human axiom stated, then her home was aboard Enterprise. She looked up briefly at Commander Tucker, hiding a smile that threatened her lips. Enterprise would be her home for quite some time.
Trip smiled down at her briefly before helping her into the shuttle pod. She turned to take one last look over the orange desert. She uttered a final farewell as the door closed and Trip’s arm slipped comfortingly about her shoulders, her final words to the world she had belonged to dieing on the wind.
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A whole mess of folks have made comments
convenient that koss died--I LIKE IT
Finally a Koss-is-dead-T'Pol-is-free fic. I've been waiting forever for this. So far everyone else has gone angst. Angst is only when immediately resolved with fluff. Well done.
See, this is just what I needed! Great story... so sad, yet so hopeful.
(Ding, dong, that Koss is dead!)
Yay! Now T'Pol can jump Trip's bones again!
Oh, yay! A happy ending! :)
What Triplover said - sequel please!!!
i love happy endings, well done.. continue !
Poignant and well written.
The surprise for me was Koss dying a heroic death! Nice that even he could have some redeeming features. Oh so glad that T'Pol is now free to follow her heart, if she dares. Ali D :~)
He died at the end of a lirpa! ROFL!!! *wiping tears of joy from my eyes*
Ding Dong the Koss is dead!!!
You just made my day!
Nicely done. I love the description of the desert. Thanks for a happy ending!
Oh, how sad (heh he). . . but a very fitting ending for Koss, and a lovely ending for Trip and T'Pol. The lirpa was a nice touch. Thanks for writing this!
He died at the end of me. Well...me backwards. I always thought it was cool that my name spelled backwards was a traditional Vulcan weapon. :)