Logic, Inescapable Part IV: Duty

Logic, Inescapable

By HopefulRomantic

Rating: PG
Disclaimer: See Part I
Website: http://www.geocities.com/hopeful_romantic@prodigy.net/
E-mail: Hopeful_Romantic@prodigy.net
Summary: Koss arrives.
Date: 1-29-07

A/N: My thanks to the Vulcan Language Institute (http://home.teleport.com/~vli/vlif.htm), and to my betas boushh and TJ.

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Part IV: Duty

by HopefulRomantic

Koss stood politely in the doorway, as Tucker looked curiously at him.

“Koss,” T’Les said in greeting.

Tucker’s eyes widened with recognition at the name, and his interested expression darkened to one of wariness. Koss gave him only a passing glance before turning his attention to T’Les. “I need to speak with T’Pol.”

T’Les regarded both men... so different in appearance and temperament, one representing stability and tradition, the other risk and disapprobation. She suddenly realized that becoming more closely acquainted with Commander Tucker must not alter her assessment of the best course of action for T’Pol’s future. Tucker’s positive attributes were irrelevant. He was human.

T’Les found her daughter in her bedroom, still meditating. She waited until T’Pol opened her eyes and looked up.

“You have a visitor,” T’Les said.

“Koss.” T’Pol looked plainly vexed as she blew out her candle. Apparently meditation had been less than effective for her.

“Did you expect him not to call on you, following his letter?” T’Les asked.

T’Pol rose with a sigh of irritation. “I had hoped for more time.”

T’Les gave her a withering stare. “More time with your Commander Tucker? More time to spend in denial of your responsibility?”

T’Pol set her jaw stubbornly. “This discussion is over.” She turned and walked out.

When T’Les reached the central room a moment later, Koss was already escorting T’Pol out to the sand garden. Tucker was still there, watching them from the kitchen.

As T’Les joined the commander, he resolutely turned away from the bay windows that looked out into the garden. He was obviously unsettled, but to his credit, he was endeavoring to conceal it. He gestured to the food synthesizer, which he had partially disassembled while T’Les was away. “The pathways to the database were corrupted— that’s why the commands were getting mixed up,” he reported. “I’ve reinitialized the program, but it looks like a couple of circuit modules need replacing.”

T’Les nodded. “I appreciate your identifying the malfunction.”

“No problem.” Tucker gathered up his tools while T’Les returned to her vegetables. As she washed the fori-lar, she looked out the window into the sand garden, where she could see T’Pol conversing with Koss.

The contrast between the two was startling. Koss was still and composed, his gaze fixed wholly on T’Pol, his expression one of active interest— even affection at times, if one looked closely at his eyes. T’Pol, on the other hand, was a model of discomfort, pacing and fidgeting, her brow creased with worry. She spent much of the time turned away from him, or with her eyes cast downward.

Tucker had paused to look out the window again. T’Les watched him, as he watched her daughter. This time he did not bother to hide the concern on his face. T’Les was puzzled by his reaction. He had recognized Koss’s name earlier; it was logical to assume that T’Pol had informed him of her past betrothal. Perhaps the commander had assumed, as T’Pol had, that the engagement was no more, merely because she had decided it was so.

They had both underestimated the resilience of Vulcan tradition.

Through the window, T’Les observed Koss departing through the open gateway. T’Pol remained in the sand garden, her restless body language and agitated expression conveying all too clearly that her conversation with Koss had left her disturbed. It was probable that he had declared his renewed intent to marry her, and had made a compelling argument for her to accept him. Perhaps he had reminded her of her family obligation, or invalidated whatever reason she presented for dismissing the betrothal yet again. Or perhaps T’Pol felt conflicted because she was beginning to see the logic of marrying him. T’Les must be prepared to persuade her, if the need arose.

But it would not be necessary, or honorable, to force Tucker to witness that conversation. He was already too aware of T’Pol’s distress.

T’Les turned to him. “Commander, would you mind traveling into town and securing the parts necessary to repair the food synthesizer?”

Tucker clearly wanted nothing more than to rush impulsively out to the garden, to T’Pol’s side. But he seemed to understand that T’Les was requesting time alone with her daughter. With an effort, he turned away from the window again. “Not at all, ma’am. I’d be happy to.” He began the task of extracting the ineffective circuit modules.

T’Les returned her attention to her daughter, who still looked ill at ease outside. Soon the direction of her future would at last be assured, and Tucker— remarkable, problematic Tucker— would be gone. Why, then, did T’Les feel a measure of regret?

Part V: Truths

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