The Power of Two

The Power of Two

By HopefulNebula

Contact: (HopefulNebula@hotmail.com)
Written for the Trip/T'Polers Fanfiction Contest
Rating: I’m not sure, but I’m saying PG-13 so as not to offend.
Summary: A sequel to “One Soul.” Our favorite couple does some explaining, and they end up dealing with an old enemy. There’s an actual plot here, so be warned.
Disclaimer 1: I don’t own Enterprise. If I did, George would be writing for it and Rick Berman would be collecting unemployment.
Disclaimer 2: I’ve read the rules of this contest and intend to adhere to them.
Spoilers: “Detained” and both parts of “Shockwave.” Besides that, there’s some small stuff, but that’s been covered in the spoilers list for “One Soul.” (There’s also a very tiny nod to “Strange New World.” Points to whomever finds it first.)

~~~~~

What’s the matter, my love? T’Pol inquired mentally before Trip entered T’Pol’s quarters. His emotional state had been unsettling to her very much of late, and now more than ever. When he did walk in, he looked haggard at best. He was covered in grease, his uniform was stained by something dark and quite pungent, and his hair was rumpled, obscuring the dark bags under the engineer’s eyes. Though she was unsure about what to do, T’Pol instinctively moved to Trip and placed one hand on his shoulder. It was a gesture foreign to T’Pol, but it seemed to partially soothe Trip. There were times when being bonded to such an emotional being, however much she felt for him, affected her own mental state. She needed him to calm down almost as much as Trip himself needed to do so.

There were twelve fires today. Twelve. I thought we’d fixed that faulty conduit yesterday, but it kept flaring up all day. We nearly had to shut down the core. And just now, Ensign Naiman spilled a pot of coffee all over my lap. Can I borrow your shower for a couple of minutes? Trip concluded through the telepathic bond he shared with T’Pol. Though they communicated verbally in public (for they had kept their relationship a secret from the crew), when they were alone with each other, they would use their bond to “speak” to one another. I used up all my hot water for the week yesterday. Despite himself, Trip smiled faintly.

Certainly, T’Pol replied. I can rinse off your uniform as well, if you wish.

No, thanks, T’Pol. Just lay it out somewhere to dry. Sorry about the smell. Coffee’s pretty strong… Trip climbed into the shower and began undressing. He hung his uniform over the shower door. When T’Pol collected it, he ran the shower. It felt so good to get everything off his body, but he was still unspeakably tense.

It is… no problem. I find that I have become quite acclimated to the scent of coffee during my time with humans.

Oh? Trip asked amusedly.

Yes. It is probably due to the fact that the Vulcan compound is directly downwind of a coffeehouse called… T’Pol thought she remembered its name, but wasn’t certain. She hazarded a guess anyway. Starbucks?

Oh, yeah. The name sounds about right. They used to be all over the place, but now there are only a few left in the world. Trip turned off the flow of water and changed the subject. Can I use a towel?

Certainly, T’Pol replied.

Trip dried himself and put his Starfleet-issue boxers back on. At least they had been spared the torrent of coffee that had ruined everything else he’d had on below his waist. Everything else is still wet, Trip reported.

I put them near the air vent, T’Pol said. They should be dry fairly soon. After a short reflective pause, she continued. You are still tense, ashayam.

Yeah. Maybe we should meditate once I get changed, Trip conceded.

I know of one thing that can help you now.

What is it, T’Pol? I’ll take just about anything right about now, said Trip. I feel damn awful.

Lie face down on my bed, T’Pol instructed. Trip complied and T’Pol sat upright next to him, with her legs folded under her. She placed one of her hands between his shoulder blades, which were still slightly damp from the shower. T’Pol lightly moved her fingertips up and down his back, searching out each individual stiffness and gently removing the knots. Her touch was warm against Trip’s back and his mind, helping to erase his stress, and Trip decided that this was what bliss felt like. No meditation had ever come close to this. He was barely able to notice when T’Pol stopped working and simply ran her hands over his skin. It had been nearly four months since they had discovered they were katran’nyat, and both still welcomed the energy they felt between them whenever they touched.

Before either could say anything, T’Pol’s comm chime rang and she got up to answer it.

“T’Pol,” she announced.

“Sorry to catch you while you’re off,” came Captain Archer’s comm voice. “I just tried to call Trip. He’s not in Engineering or his quarters. Do you know where he is?”

Trip rolled onto his back and bolted upright, knowing quite well what T’Pol was about to say. Jon’s never gonna let me forget this one, he observed.

“Commander Tucker is currently in my quarters.” T’Pol replied coolly, despite Trip’s very strong mental protests.

“Wipe that smile off your face, Captain!” Trip shouted, mortified. “It’s not what you think. I needed to shower and was out of hot water in my quarters, that’s all.”

Archer was able to suppress the laughing fit that threatened to overcome him and continued. “Well, finish up your shower, Trip. I need both of you in the Situation Room at once.”

“Understood, Captain,” T’Pol concluded.

“Just give me a minute, Captain. I want to change into a clean uniform.”

“Sure, Trip. Just change quickly.” The comm panel beeped to indicate that Archer had cut off the transmission.

Thanks for letting me shower, T’Pol. I’d better get going. That sounded pretty urgent, Trip thought.

Indeed.

See you in the Situation Room, then…
~~~~~

“At 1730 this evening,” Archer announced once the senior staff had assembled in the Situation Room, “we picked up a distress call from a Suliban ship. Apparently, six of the Suliban prisoners we freed from that detention colony are having severe engine trouble after they were attacked by the Cabal. They also requested medical assistance before their comm died. Travis, prepare a shuttlepod,” Archer ordered.

“Aye, sir,” the ensign confirmed.

“Trip, Phlox, and Malcolm, you’ll be going on the mission. You leave first thing tomorrow morning; it’ll be a while before we can reach the ship. Bring whatever supplies you need, but pack light. It’s a small ship. I’ll see you off at 0500. Dismissed.”

The senior staff disbanded to take care of their relative tasks. Well, I won’t have to put out fires tomorrow, Trip decided. At least I hope I won’t…

~~~~~

Since they had been bonded, Trip and T’Pol had learned that they were able to control the circumstances of their shared dreams because they were aware that they were dreaming. This had enabled Trip to show T’Pol his home and (rather large) family, and T’Pol to reciprocate. They would take turns bringing each other to their favorite places. T’Pol had once brought Trip to the library where she had spent so much time growing up. She was quite a bookworm, Trip had decided. Trip currently was taking T’Pol on a hike through Rocky Mountain National Park, which he had visited quite often when he was younger. They had just reached Bear Lake when a very loud buzzer sounded. Oh, shit, Trip thought once they were both awake. The away mission. I’d better get going. See you soon, T’Pol…

Go well, ashayam. Be safe.

~~~~~

“There you are, Commander! We were about to leave without you…” Phlox greeted Trip in the shuttle bay.

“Sorry about that, folks. Five minutes isn’t really that late, you know,” Trip joked as he lowered himself into the pod. “And you wouldn’t want the chief engineer to pass out from hunger while making critical repairs, now, would you?”

The preflight checks had already been started, so it was only a few minutes before they launched the pod. The flight was very short, and the shuttlepod’s occupants got to talking among one another and exchanging various brainteasers. (Trip and Malcolm had started exchanging them after the incident on Shuttlepod One, and whenever one of them had a new one, he would eagerly tell the other.)

“Oh—I’ve got one. An Irishman walks from Dublin to Cork, but he doesn’t pass a single pub along the way. How can this be?” Malcolm asked.

“Now that’s ridiculous, Mal,” Trip scoffed. “There have to be at least a hundred pubs between Dublin and Cork. I’ve been to Ireland before. My sister lives there, remember?” He paused to think, then asked, “Did it take him very long?”

“Oh, yes,” replied the tactical officer.

“Did he take any special roads to go around the pubs?” Phlox asked.

“No. He took main roads all along the way.”

“Well… logically, if he didn’t pass any pubs, then he must have gone into every one of them!” Trip stated.

“Damn. That’s it,” Malcolm conceded. “And you sounded just like T’Pol for a second there. I think she’s starting to rub off on you, Commander…”

“Lieutenant, don’t make me reprimand you for smart-mouthing a superior officer. Besides, we’ve reached the ship. Mal, can you pilot for a bit? I need to go prep the docking mechanism.

“You were supposed to prepare it in the preflight checks,” Malcolm reminded him.

“No, I was supposed to check it then. And I did. I’m preparing it now, so we can breathe when we get on the ship. Not that I want to be on the ship in the first place. Suliban ships have given me the creeps ever since the time T’Pol and the Captain and I went there to get those disks,” Trip admonished.

“Aah. Well, don’t let me keep you, then…”

“Shut up, Malcolm. That’s an order.”

Malcolm smirked as he docked the shuttle.

“Seal’s good, folks. Let’s go in and see what all the fuss is about…”

The ship was completely empty as the trio entered the airlock. “Phlox, do you scan any biosigns?” Trip asked.

“Six of them, in that direction. It doesn’t seem that there have been any fatalities,” Phlox reported. They made their way through the dark corridors, occasionally dodging sparks as they flew from charred consoles or damaged bulkheads. The emergency lighting viewed through the thin smoke gave the ship an eerie haunted glow that, quite frankly, was freaking Trip out.

Okay, Trip, he told himself, You’re a big boy now. You can do this. Just breathe in and out, nice and slow. He closed his eyes briefly and was able to continue. They finally were able to reach the command center of the tiny vessel. The figure that greeted them was wholly familiar, but not from the detention camp.

“Good morning,” Silik said. All three Enterprise crew members grabbed their phase pistols, but Silik continued before any of them could draw their weapons. “Don’t bother trying to shoot. And don’t run, either. You’ll find escape quite impossible; my soldiers have ensured that.” Each crewmember felt a handheld weapon at his back. “I will have you killed if you try anything. I was hoping Archer would find his way here at first; that would make things so much easier for me. He will come soon, though. He’s far too selfless not to. Escort them to a room and lock them in,” he ordered his men. “Guard the doors. If they try to escape… kill them.”

T’Pol, get them to polarize the hull plating. It’s Silik, Trip thought. He thanked whatever silent gods were out there that she replied.

What else do you know? she asked. Trip was amazed how cool and rational she could be at a time like this, but he realized that that was an asset to all of them at the moment.

Not much. He seems to want Captain Archer more than any of us. But he’s probably going to kill us, no matter what happens.

Understood. I will tell the captain. T’Pol paused for a moment, then asked, What should I tell him about how I know this?

Oh, shit. I’d forgotten. Better be honest. I’ll tell the troops here about us if you do the same with the captain, Trip suggested, and sighed mentally as he was “escorted” to the makeshift cell. It was bound to come out sometime…

Indeed.

~~~~~

“Captain…”

“Yes, T’Pol?” Archer inquired.

“I would strongly recommend that you polarize the hull plating and charge the weapons immediately,” T’Pol stated flatly.

“Was that an order, Sub-Commander?” Archer demanded.

“Yes. Can you see me in your ready room immediately?”

“Do I have a choice?” he asked jokingly.

T’Pol raised an eyebrow. “No.”

They entered the captain’s ready room and Archer asked another of his many questions. “OK. What the hell is going on here? Why do we need a Tactical Alert?”

T’Pol decided to be direct. “Silik has taken over the Suliban vessel and taken our away team hostage.”

Archer was still skeptical. “And how the hell do you know all that?”

T’Pol breathed deeply. “Because Commander Tucker is on the mission.”

Archer looked at T’Pol quite blankly. “Okay…”

“You know that he and I have been meditating together for several months now.” Archer nodded. “In my teaching him to meditate, we… had discovered that we had a rather unique connection between us.”

The captain was aghast. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? He had been getting up the courage to ask her to Movie Night sometime. And his best friend had beaten him to it. How had he been so oblivious to it? How could he have not noticed how they always stood next to one another during briefings, always stared directly at each other when they were both in the same room? They had even seen a few movies together. He snapped out of his thoughts as T’Pol composed herself and continued.

“Two months ago, we chose to telepathically bond with one another. On the bridge a moment ago, he… spoke to me through this bond informing me of the situation. Please… do what you can to save them,” she implored.

Archer stared again at T’Pol, evaluating her story. Though it was implausible at best, and he had no way of proving it until the doctor was back, he did trust T’Pol implicitly, and so he believed her now. And that emotional appeal just now also changed a lot for the captain. Rather than asking the myriad questions that were plaguing him, he simply activated his comm panel and said “Ensign Greenbaum, polarize the hull plating and charge weapons. Keep a very close eye on the Suliban ship. I suspect we’ll be getting a transmission from them fairly soon.”

“Aye, sir,” said a very confused Ensign Greenbaum.

“So, T’Pol,” Archer slowly began after he turned off the comm, “I’ll talk to you about this bond later. Right now… what do you propose we do about this?”

T’Pol closed her eyes for a long moment. Archer wondered if she was communicating with Trip. When she opened her eyes, she stated, “Since this is a hostage situation, it would be advisable to wait for Silik’s demands before any rescue attempts. Otherwise, we would…” She searched for the phrase Trip had taught her once, “’show our hands’ too soon. We would be endangering them and ourselves.”

“Agreed,” Archer said. “We wait. Now what should I say when people on the bridge start asking how my science officer knew about this?”

T’Pol considered her options, then replied, “I believe that information is classified, Captain.” Had Trip been there, he would have noticed the slight change in expression that characterized any of T’Pol’s strangely humorous proclamations. Archer smiled at her and wordlessly left his ready room for the bridge, with T’Pol following him, just as a transmission from Silik came in.

~~~~~

Trip studied the cell for a moment. It had been somebody’s quarters once. The bed on which he was sitting was unmade. A few scattered personal effects brightened the environment. There was even a picture of a Suliban man and his family on one wall. Trip wondered how it had survived the internment camp without being confiscated. Malcolm was searching the room for something, first in the corners, then under the table. He stopped and removed a small listening device from one of the legs of the small piece of furniture. Then he smiled mirthfully, set the bug on the ground, and stepped on it, effectively crushing it.

“Should have known they’d bug us,” Trip said, half-joking.

“I did. That’s why I found it while you sat on your lazy bum doing nothing.”

“Don’t take me so seriously, Mal. And I wouldn’t say I was doing nothing. Guys… c’mere for a sec.” Malcolm and Phlox complied, and Trip whispered, “Enterprise already knows of our situation.”

“And how do you know that?” scoffed Malcolm.

“T’Pol. Listen, I know you guys are probably not going to want to believe me, but you have to, okay?” Both crewmembers nodded. “Good. And I’m not going to go into every little detail about this yet. If you want to know more later, then ask me when we’re back on the ship. And you are not going to tell this to anyone. Understood?” Both men nodded again. “Good… Now.” He breathed to compose himself. “T’Pol and I… are telepathically bonded. Just now, I used this bond to tell her that Silik was here. She’s explaining all this to the Captain right now.”

Malcolm still seemed confused, but Phlox had already known about the bond. Trip could see that in his smug expression. Trip had to understand how Phlox knew. If they had been that obvious… “And you…” he confronted Phlox, “How’d you know?”

“Your physical exams last month showed brain activity similar to that which occurred when you were falsely bonded. It was a natural conclusion,” Phlox said.

Trip was too distracted to feel relieved, however. He had just closed his eyes and drawn in a very sharp breath. Phlox was somewhat concerned, but stopped worrying when Trip relaxed in his position. His eyes darted around as if he was dreaming, and Malcolm noted as much.

“Is he asleep, Doctor?” the tactical officer asked.

“I don’t believe so,” Phlox hypothesized. “I think he may be communicating with T’Pol.”

“He didn’t have to go into this… trance earlier,” Malcolm noted.

“The connection could be deeper this time, Lieutenant. I can’t make a proper diagnosis without scanning him first,” the doctor reported. “I think we should simply—“

Trip suddenly awoke before Phlox could finish his thought. “Sorry about that. T’Pol was letting me in on Silik’s demands. He wants the captain.”

“He seems a little sore about the last time we met, doesn’t he?” suggested Malcolm.

“I don’t think anybody takes well to being called an ugly bastard, taken hostage, and knocked unconscious on his own ship. T’Pol will let me know of their rescue plans. Right now, we should just sit tight and hope they don’t realize their bug is missing.”

~~~~~

Soon after the captain and sub-commander returned to the bridge, Hoshi reported a hail from the ship.

“Put it up, Ensign,” Archer ordered. Surely enough, Silik’s face appeared on the viewscreen, and any of Archer’s lingering doubts subsided.

“Good morning, Jon,” Silik opened their communication.

“Silik,” Archer greeted curtly. “What have you done with my away team?”

“Aah. That. Surely you don’t want to talk about something so morbid on such a beautiful day… You see, your officers have already been killed.”

Archer looked directly at T’Pol. Her eyes were fixed on the viewscreen, as if they were focusing on something completely different, but she was relaxed. She simply seemed to be somewhere else, possibly communicating with Trip. There was no sign that Trip or the rest of the team were even in pain. “If that were true,” he gambled, “then you wouldn’t be calling me now, Silik.”

“You’re quite perceptive today, Jon. Perhaps Starfleet should give you some kind of prize. Yes, your crewmembers are quite alive, but they won’t be for long. I intend to kill them in thirty of your minutes. You know, I was really hoping you would come here on the first try. Instead, I propose a deal. If you come here, I will free your men. Quite an unfair exchange in your favor, don’t you think? Losing one man to save—“

Archer silently cut the channel, thankful that Trip had thought to add some rudimentary comm controls to his chair. “That will be enough of that tripe,” he remarked.

T’Pol was almost sick of raising her eyebrow, but it was an unconscious gesture on her part. “Tripe?”

“Never mind. T’Pol, you seem to know everything about this,” the captain said, “so what do you recommend we do now?”

T’Pol seemed smug that the captain had deferred to her, but suppressed the thought. “A covert rescue would be ideal. The cell ship we… appropriated recently would not be useful in this situation because Silik would be able to detect it. However, I have isolated a gap in their sensor field that would enable one person to fly a shuttlepod into their docking bay.”

“Great,” Archer replied, “Who goes?” He knew already what T’Pol’s reply would be.

“I am the logical choice. I have the training in covert operations and the… ability to find the officers in question.”

“It’s not my policy to send an away team of one,” Archer ordered. “Travis can pilot for you.”

“No, he cannot. Unfortunately, they will be able to find the pod too soon if its mass is as large as it is with two occupants. One occupant is barely acceptable. We must act immediately.”

There was no way Archer could fight this tiny woman right now, and he knew it. “Very well, then. Travis, at least help her prep the pod. It’ll get done faster that way.”

~~~~~

“So, T’Pol. Are you going to tell me what you meant when you said you had the ability to find the team?” Travis asked as they ran the preflight checks.

“No,” T’Pol stated. She really would have to quit reflexively lifting her eyebrow. Her forehead was starting to ache.

They spent the next several minutes working diligently, T’Pol trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her head. Trip had felt this and cast his own mind into hers, helping to alleviate the ever-growing headache. Suddenly, as T’Pol was climbing down into the pod, she fell directly through its doorway and against one of the seats.

“You okay, T’Pol?” Travis asked, worried.

T’Pol only looked stunned for a moment before responding. “I am… unhurt.”

“What happened?”

She assessed her situation before responding. She could not reveal what she believed to be the truth—that she had momentarily blacked out—to him without explaining why she had blacked out and how to remedy the problem. Though she found the idea distasteful, she had to lie to the pilot. “I… lost my footing on one of the rungs of the ladder. I am fine, Ensign. The checks are complete. Please seal the hatch and launch the pod.”

Travis stuttered for a moment, but couldn’t say anything. He complied with T’Pol’s order, and soon T’Pol was off. T’Pol was grateful that the helmsman could not see her once the door was shut. Trip was definitely in excruciating pain, and it was affecting her own self-control. She needed to find him immediately.

Trip? she asked. Are you all right?

Perfectly fine, he replied tersely. Never felt better. Silik just… got impatient waiting for the captain to visit, and decided to visit with me instead. His mental declaration was punctuated by long, pain-filled pauses. T’Pol winced slightly upon feeling the worst of it—feeling his arm breaking— but then took control of herself once more.

She paused for a moment to breathe deeply, concentrated, and then gave him some of her strength through the bond, all the time absorbing some of his pain and wishing she could be there to save him. About a minute after Travis launched the pod, the pain stopped. T’Pol then focused on her current task: piloting the tiny shuttlepod through the narrow corridor to the Suliban ship.

~~~~~

The guard roughly threw Trip back into the makeshift cell. Trip collided with Malcolm, and both men fell onto the hard bed.

“Ow! Damn, that hurt…” said a very dazed Trip after a moment. Phlox hovered nearby

“What the hell did they do to you?” inquired Malcolm.

“Silik was pissed off that I wouldn’t tell him anything. I’ll be fine once we’re back on Enterprise. T’Pol’s on her way now; she’s found a way to get past their sensors,” Trip reported.

“I still don’t quite get this bond,” Malcolm inquired. “What exactly does it mean? How did you—“

“Meditation lessons. Like I said, I’m not saying everything quite yet, but I can tell you this much now. A couple of months ago, I asked her what it was like to meditate. She touched my mind to help me learn, and… Damn, this is hard to explain.” He paused for a moment and continued. “Well, two months ago… remember that away mission T’Pol and I were on? That’s when it really started. She mind-melded with me to save herself. We… ended up bonded from then,” Trip explained, not wanting to explain the concept of thanel’rhiann just then.

Malcolm looked up. “So… what’s it like to be bonded with a Vulcan?”

“I like it. She and I aren’t really that different, you know. It was strange at first, though. Took me a while to get used to it.”

“Have you two ever…” Malcolm stopped, uncomfortable with the question and the possible implications of its answer.

“Not yet,” Trip replied, correctly ascertaining the end of the question. “Not until she’s ready. She’s just docked with this ship.”

“How can she do that without being noticed?” Phlox asked.

“Airlock was stuck open. Probably happened when Silik attacked these guys,” Trip replied.

Suddenly, the door to their “cell” opened and the Suliban guard entered. “I have just been told that one of your shuttlepods has just docked with our ship. The person inside is not Captain Archer. As a result of your subterfuge, you all will have to be punished,” he reported. “You, with the dark hair,” he ordered, pointing to Malcolm. “Come with me.”

“Bloody hell,” Malcolm exclaimed. Phlox looked appropriately surprised. Trip’s expression, however, remained placid. He was definitely planning something.

Malcolm, spurred on by the disruptor pistol the guard had pointed at him, complied with the guard’s orders. Immediately after the guard had turned his back toward the other two prisoners and faced the door, Trip silently got up, grabbed the guard’s shoulder where it met his neck, and pinched. As the guard fell unconscious to the floor, any of Malcolm’s doubts about the veracity of Trip’s story subsided.

“Thanks for that,” he said.

“It was nothing. Besides, the guard left the door open for us. You should be thanking him,” Trip joked. Malcolm only glared, but was cut short as T’Pol came running up the corridor.

Without wasting time on pleasantries, T’Pol said, “Lieutenant, doctor, you retake the shuttlepod you initially brought here. Hurry. The commander and I will take the pod in which I came here,” she ordered. Malcolm noticed that she was looking directly into Trip’s eyes as she spoke. It is pleasant to see you well, ashayam, T’Pol finished silently.

You too, Trip replied. Let’s get moving. “You heard the sub-commander,” he said, “See you back on Enterprise.”

“Indeed,” Malcolm confirmed. “Try not to get yourself killed, Commander…”

Both teams made their ways through the corridors. Malcolm and Phlox had no trouble reaching the pod at their end of the ship. Trip and T’Pol, however, had much greater difficulty. They ran into Silik and two guards, all of them armed, about halfway to their destination.

“You will come with us,” Silik ordered.

Oh, shit, Trip thought.

It would be best to follow his directions, at least until we can—

“You,” Silik ordered. “The Vulcan female. I want a word with you…” He smiled in the manner of a predator who has just cornered a kill, and wishes to prolong its terror as long as possible. He had missed this before. This time, he was ready.

Trip sensed T’Pol’s distress immediately. Though he hadn’t probed her memories directly—that would be a violation in the deepest sense, and entirely unthinkable for Trip—he had sometimes experienced brief flashes of T’Pol’s memory at night. He had sensed needles, Silik’s face, intense disorientation and distortion and weakness. He had heard intrusive questions, unceasing. He had felt extreme fear in the Vulcan, and he was damned if he was going to allow Silik to do that to her again.

“No,” he said simply.

“What’s that you say?” Silik teased. “Do you want more, human?”

“Damn straight,” Trip replied defiantly, stepping forward to confront Silik. “You don’t mess with her. I don’t know what you did to her last time, but it messed her up pretty badly. I’m not letting you do that to her again. Take me.”
“Oh, did it?” asked Silik, in a tone that broadcasted anything but concern. “I’m sorry to hear that. Are you sure about this?” Trip swallowed resolutely and nodded. “Well, then… escort them to their accommodations, and have the surgeons prepare.” Silik glared at Trip. He looked as if he were about to spit. “I’ll be back for you later.”

The guard very roughly shoved the prisoners into a different cell, taking special care to press against Trip’s bruises.

Once both prisoners made themselves as comfortable as was possible in the closet in which they were trapped, they started to talk to one another. Trip asked a maelstrom of questions, and it took much of T’Pol’s strength to answer the most painful ones. She was afraid again, this time of the fact that Trip would soon be subjected to the same torture. But maybe the result wouldn’t have to be the same. Trip, I have an idea, she thought.

~~~~~

The soldier returned several minutes later, and roughly picked Trip up by one arm—the one that was, in all probability, broken already. Amazingly, Trip didn’t cry out, though T’Pol seemed to react to the pain. The guard was oblivious, however, and T’Pol regained her composure so she could do what she had to do. She braced herself for the pain she knew she would be feeling quite soon. If she failed, they would both be killed.

No, she wouldn’t think about that. Focus, T’Pol, she admonished herself. For Trip’s sake. For your sake. Yet she could barely keep from screaming as she felt the pain searing through his body, her body, their body. The drugs burned her as they had before. An invisible hand ripped through her, touching what she had only shared with one other. She was certain that at that moment, her heart was now beating in his chest.

T’Pol summoned all her reserves of control and held them at the surface of her consciousness, waiting. She was ready.

~~~~~

Trip must have blacked out for a while, because when he woke, he was restrained to a table, with various medical instruments connected to his body. He was weak and disoriented, but there was T’Pol’s presence in his mind, bolstering him. And there was Silik, standing over him.

“I’m a fair man, Trip. If you tell me what I need to know, I will not prolong your suffering. Can I call you Trip?” Silik asked, smiling broadly.

Trip, who was already weakened, struggled to say, “You’re not, I won’t, you won’t, and you can’t.”

“I’m not what, Trip?”

“You’re not a fair man. If… if you were, you wouldn’t be going after Jon. He beat you fairly, three times. You just… can’t stand that.”

Silik was not amused. He picked up Trip’s right hand and very slowly twisted his middle finger until it snapped. This time, Trip was powerless not to cry out. All that came out of his mouth, though, was a slight whimper.

Silik spoke again, even more malevolently than before. Though his manner was overtly congenial, it reminded Trip of the old bottles his father collected. Once, when he was six, Trip had climbed up to the shelf where his father had kept them all and opened the prettiest bottle he could reach. Trip’s mom had caught the child just in time, and explained that many of the bottles had held poison, and were still dangerous. Yes, that was Silik all over, except that this poison was quite visible.

“You’d be surprised what I can stand, Trip. But I can’t stand it when people lie to me. This is why I have personally ensured that you will not lie to me. Do you understand?”

Trip refused to acknowledge the question. That was often to be expected from Silik’s most headstrong prisoners. Even T’Pol had done so, and she had been remarkably cooperative after a while. Silik was used to this, and so he continued. He had to stall for a minute before the drugs started working at their full capacity.

“What is your full name?” he asked.

“Charles Broderick Tucker the Third,” Trip replied. A minute ago, he hadn’t been planning on speaking at all, but now… now he wanted to tell Silik everything he knew. Silik was the good guy, and all Trip wanted to do was help him.

“Good,” Silik stated effusively, as one would speak to a toddler who had just identified a color. “When and where were you born?”

“March 30, 2119, Panama City, Florida,” he replied groggily. He could barely remember where he was now, let alone where he had been born, but somehow, he was able to call the memory up.

“Good. We can go on now. Why did you come here?”

“We received a distress call from the people we freed from the Tandaran detention camp.”

“Aah. Them. Yes, they’re all willing servants of the Cabal now.” Trip felt distantly glad about this, but also defeated. Neither of these feelings mattered now anyway. “What about Archer? How can I get to him?”

~~~~~

Now was the time. T’Pol had watched passively until this moment, waiting for the question that was Silik’s obsession. She had despaired at his mental deterioration until this moment. Now she cast her mind out, seeking control over his. She hadn’t thought she would ever emulate Tolaris’ total control over her mind and body, but she was doing so now. She had no choice. She had to save Enterprise, and she knew that both she and Trip were willing to sacrifice themselves to do so.

T’Pol spoke through Trip’s mouth, desperately mixing his unique vocal mannerisms with the weakness and lack of control that was inherent to what Trip was currently enduring, and she did something that she normally forbade herself to do: she hoped, and clung frantically to that hope.

~~~~~

Trip gasped immediately after Silik asked the question. He did not answer immediately, so Silik repeated what he had said. “How do I get to Archer?”

Trip spoke, though he wasn’t fully aware of anything anymore. Silik thought he sounded slightly different, possibly more clinical, but listened anyway.

“T’Pol can help you more than I can,” T’Pol said haltingly through Trip. “She’s bonded to him, can tell where he is at any time.”

“Bonded?” asked Silik. Now this was good news for him.

“Yes, bonded. She and Jon are lifemates.”

Silik turned to his surgeon. He had to be sure. “Check the scans. Is the Vulcan female bonded?” The surgeon nodded, and Silik ordered, “Then we’re done with him. Adjust the chemicals to account for Vulcan female physiology. I’ll be back with her shortly.” Silik turned to Trip, removing the needles from Trip’s skin and roughly picked him up.

~~~~~

T’Pol finally relaxed. She had accomplished the hardest part of what she had to do. Now all she had to do was surprise Silik upon his arrival. This would also require a considerable amount of energy, but she did so anyway.

She reached out to the area around her so as to deflect attention from herself. This was a technique she had learned when she was much younger. It was not a matter of being unseen, but one of not being noticed. Some humans had been able to unwittingly master the technique, but they could not do it consciously. T’Pol waited, and was soon greeted by the presence of Silik, carrying a nearly unconscious Trip. She stood silently behind the Suliban, waiting. He threw Trip down—T’Pol was able to restrain herself from gasping—looked everywhere through the room except directly at T’Pol, who was waiting, waiting—

He turned to open the door and alert his soldiers, and that was when she struck. She couldn’t neutralize him with the pinch quite yet; she wanted him conscious for a while. Instead, she called upon her martial arts training to throw him off balance swiftly and cleanly. T’Pol used his momentary confusion to place her foot on his shoulders, pinning him down. Then she took his weapon, grabbed his shirt, and pulled Silik to his feet. Using the room’s bed sheets, T’Pol tied Silik’s hands and legs together behind him, and gagged him.

She leaned over to his ear and whispered, “I am not bonded to Captain Archer. I am bonded to the Commander, and you will tell no one about this. Do you understand?” Silik nodded as best he could through his restraints. “It would be advisable not to attempt to kidnap any of the Enterprise crew in the future. If you do, then Starfleet will not be as lenient as I have been. You will now let us leave, and you will not pursue us. I will untie your gag temporarily so you can relay this order to your crew.”

Silik knew he was defeated. He complied with T’Pol’s order, however reluctantly. It was hard not to do so when he was tied up and held at gunpoint. T’Pol activated Silik’s portable communication device and held it to his mouth so he could speak. “Sarni,” he ordered. “The two prisoners will be returning to their ship momentarily. Do not stop or harm them, and under no circumstances are you to pursue Enterprise. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” the soldier replied. T’Pol deactivated the communicator and stepped on it, crushing its delicate circuitry. She retied the gag around Silik’s mouth, rendered him unconscious using the nerve pinch, lifted Trip into her arms, and promptly left. She fired the weapon on the lock of the door after it had shut. Then she started moving. There was no way to be sure whether Silik’s lieutenant would follow his orders.

The pod wasn’t very far away, and T’Pol had no trouble reaching it. She secured Trip into a seat, and then programmed the autopilot. She sighed rather uncharacteristically. She was going home at last.

~~~~~

Trip woke slowly and groggily. He didn’t remember much, and he wasn’t immediately aware of the maelstrom of activity surrounding him. T’Pol sat next to him, holding his left hand in both of her own and mentally urging him to wake. Captain Archer paced along the foot of his biobed, silently praying for his best friend to regain consciousness. A set of machines were hooked up to his body, monitoring his vital signs. Even Phlox seemed worried.

A bevy of his friends and colleagues had streamed through Sickbay all day, hoping to wish Trip well, but Phlox had turned most of them away, allowing only senior staff to spend time with him.

And now, Trip was slowly coming back to himself. He didn’t open his eyes for a while, instead he just listened. The first thing of which he was aware was of T’Pol’s hands on his body. He smiled slightly upon realizing this. Then he heard the steady beep of the machines and the voice of the doctor, though the words were indistinguishable.

T’Pol, for her part, had sensed Trip’s awakening even before Phlox had stated that he was coming around. She placed her other hand on his forehead, helping to speed the process. Finally, after what seemed like a small eternity, Trip’s eyes opened. He stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment, then blinked rapidly. His vision seemed to focus, and he looked directly at T’Pol, who was silently rejoicing upon being able to look into his deep blue eyes once again. Trip smiled.

Since T’Pol had already given her testimony about what had happened to both of them, Trip was spared the duty of describing what had happened to him. His memory of much of the time was quite unclear anyway. He vaguely remembered certain parts, but remained blissfully unaware of the worst of it.

The broken bones took two weeks to heal properly. Phlox had been prepared to counsel Trip about his experience during his stay in Sickbay, but Trip was perfectly fine whenever the doctor broached the subject. He eventually concluded that Trip was, indeed, perfectly fine as a result of his bond with T’Pol.

T’Pol spent every minute she could with Trip during his convalescence. Some of the time, the doctor would check on the commander after feeding his menagerie and find a sleeping T’Pol crouched at his side. When this happened, Phlox would gently pick the petite Vulcan up and set her on the nearest unoccupied biobed.

The captain, Phlox and Malcolm had decided upon the behest of Trip and T’Pol to keep the bonding a secret from Starfleet and the High Command, until such time as it became necessary for them to know. Archer felt he had to tell the remaining two members of the senior staff, however, and the couple reluctantly agreed. Travis and Hoshi were both quite open to the idea and readily consented to protect the secrecy of the relationship.

However, the linguist insisted that both Trip and T’Pol speak to their parents about it. She argued, “Believe me. It’s not good to be in a relationship you don’t want your parents to know about.” They eventually relented under Hoshi’s pressure (and good-natured ribbing), and she arranged for the comm links to be made as soon as Trip was released from Sickbay.

~~~~~

“Hi Mom. Hi, Dad,” Trip greeted.

“Hey honey,” Alicia Tucker replied. “We heard about your accident. I hope you’re okay—“

Accident? Trip wondered briefly. Then he remembered. According to the report that had been released to his family (who had no clearance to know of the Suliban), he had been injured in an accident in Engineering. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Broke my arm and a couple of fingers. Got bruised up pretty badly, but I’m all right now. Doc discharged me from Sickbay yesterday. I think he got sick of me after about the first week.”

His parents smiled, but his father’s grin didn’t last. “So why are you calling now?”

“OK. I’m going to tell you something really important. But you can’t tell anybody, all right? Not even my brothers and sisters. This is just for you to hear…”

Trip paused and restarted several times during his telling of recent events, but he managed to remain remarkably coherent. As soon as he finished, he looked directly at the screen, gauging the reactions of his parents. Both of his parents were beaming.

“Oh, honey, we’re so proud of you. We were starting to worry that you weren’t going to get hitched. I mean, all of your brothers and sisters are married, and—“

“MOM! It’s not marriage. But it’s close,” he teased.

~~~~~

"Hello, T’Pol."

"Hello, Mother. It is… gratifying to talk to you again,” T’Pol told the middle-aged Vulcan whose features were a near exact mirror of her own. When T’Pol was younger and still living with her parents, all of her relatives had noted the similarity between mother and daughter.

“As it is to see you. What is it you wished to talk to me about, my daughter?”

“I trust that you will keep this in the strictest of confidences,” the younger Vulcan said, nearly pleading. T’Lan nodded, and T’Pol began, somewhat haltingly. “In my last transmission to you, I mentioned that I had started teaching Commander Tucker how to meditate. There is more to that than what I included in the letter…”

T’Pol told her part of the story, and when she had finished, she also read the effect it had on her mother. For the first time in all her sixty-seven years, T’Pol saw her mother smile. It was not the kind of large grin she found perennially on Trip’s face; instead it was reminiscent of a human painting T’Pol had once seen called the “Mona Lisa.”

“T’Pol, you could do far worse. Do you know the time, over all other times, when I was most afraid?” T’Pol did not know, and indicated such. “The day I was wedded to Vellik. I had not seen him in over twenty years. No amount of meditation could have lessened my fear on that day, but as soon as he touched my hand, I felt nothing but peace. I am pleased that you have found someone who has the same effect on you.”

T’Pol, surprised, closed her eyes for a moment. “Is my father doing well? I have not had a chance to write to him lately.”

T’Lan replied. “Yes. Vellik is still teaching biology at Earth high schools. He is currently in Denver, Colorado.”

“Please send him my regards, and let him know of what has happened. Live long and prosper, Mother.”

~~~~~

T’Pol entered Trip’s quarters later that evening. Without prelude, or need thereof, she spoke. I’m ready, she informed him. He needed no more to glide to her location by the door and hold her in his arms.

They remained in this position, their gazes locked onto one another, for what seemed infinite time. Then, suddenly, his lips were on hers, and both their mouths were open. T’Pol was not sure of what to do, but she let Trip take the lead and copied his movements. It was strangely pleasurable, this sensation. She felt Trip’s passion build and fall slightly as she broke off the kiss, placing one finger on his mouth. She then silently moved that hand down to Trip’s and extended two of her fingers. It was Trip’s turn to be confused, but he quickly understood what to do and placed two of his own fingers onto T’Pol’s.

Trip gasped. In all his life, he had never experienced anything like this. It was as if the sensation he felt whenever they touched had been amplified a hundredfold and expanded to include all he ever had been or ever would be. It was a brilliant, jubilant rush, and he wanted more.

But T’Pol was already placing her hand against his cheek and kissing him again, more passionately this time. He could feel the maelstrom of emotions coursing through both of their souls as they joined in body as well as in spirit. Somehow, eventually, they ended up on the bed, and their shared climax was the sweetest thing either human or Vulcan had felt. They were no longer two distinct people; they were, for the moment, truly one mind, one blissful individual. It was the ultimate meditation; everything around them faded away until there was only them, and all they were was spirit.

~~~~~

Trip woke up slowly, wrapped in his own covers. T’Pol leaned over and brushed the hair out of the engineer’s eyes as she caressed him with her mind. I must leave, ashayam, she told him. It is nearly 0800. I will see you tonight…

Hey, T’Pol? Trip asked just as T’Pol was about to leave.

Yes?

Do you know how much last night meant to me?

Yes, and it meant a lot to me as well.

I love you so much; you know that, right?

All the time. Thank you, Trip.

~~~~~
END
~~~

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Eight hardy souls have made comments

I really like the story.

It just sucks that the end feels so... *rushed*

I was thrilled that you entered this story - the sequel to One Soul - into the contest. Again, excellent job with your descriptions. I really liked how you demonstrated their telepathic abilities. And despite the fact that T'pol shows emotion towards Trip, this is done entirely through the mental bond (except of course for the sex at the end), so I feel that you still kept her in character.

Thank you for this well-written and mesmerizing tale!!!

I loved this. It was a wonderfully original idea using their telepathic link to defeat Silik. I would have liked the story to have been longer with a more leisurely pace in places and a little more dialogue from the others but that is an observation not a criticism. You did a really good job and I am impressed. Thank you so much for writing this story. Who couldn't love Trip and T'Pol? Especially the way you write them. Ali D :~)

Good story, and well written. Nice to know that T/T works even after they get together.

Interesting way to make use of the telepathic link you established in your earlier stories.

Love the telepathic connection between Trip and T'Pol. These two, when they decide to communicate (whether verbally or telepathically) are a strong and effective team. Thanks for a well-told story.

wow!!!

This is the best Trip/T'Pol story I have ever read! Absolutely wonderful! Thank you so much for writing this and keep up the excellent work.