Heresy: The Reunion - Ch 2

Heresy: The Reunion

By justTripin'

Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama, romance, possibly humor?
Disclaimer: I am eternally grateful to the real writers, producers, and owners of Star Trek. No infringement intended!
Notes: Thanks to Distracted, who steers me away from disaster.

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Chapter 2

The next morning Trip awakened in his own room, not in a dormitory full of Seekers. He took the first turn in the shower and came back to relax in the bed while T’Pol took her turn. His adventure with the anomaly-worshiping Triannon missionaries seemed more incredible to him with each passing day. The steel walls and worn purplish-grey carpet of his quarters were close and cozy. As he lay on his back, stretching his arms over his head, one metal bedpost began to vibrate, resonating with the engines. We’re going to warp 2. He grabbed it to dampen the buzz . . Everything around him was intimately familiar, yet fresh and exciting, especially T'Pol, who exited the bathroom, hair damp.

“Dad?” A deep muffled voice outside the door.

“Yeah?” Trip jumped up, but Lorian had already punched in a code to let himself in.

Lorian stepped through the hatchway, carrying his clothes and a towel. His son had moved out of the Tucker quarters, but apparently not all the way out. The young man greeted his dad with a nod and a smile. “Great, it’s empty,” the boy noted, indicating the bathroom.

“You’re bunking with your friends now?” Trip asked, a little confused.

“My friends are Reptillians.”

“Lorian!” T’Pol interjected. The family enforced a strict anti-defamation policy, one that extended even to Xindi.

Lorian glanced to his dad for support. Trip just smiled and shrugged.

“Okay, then, . . . deranged,” Lorian amended amicably.

Appeased, T’Pol turned to her husband. “Carlos, Asatoshi, and Glenn do not keep the cabin clean,” she explained, in her son’s defense, “and they often interrupt Lorian when he tries to meditate. I told him that he may return here any time they become too troublesome.”

“Everything’s fine, Dad. I’m not runnin’ back home,” Lorian declared with a hint of irritation as he disappeared into his parents’ bathroom.

They waited till they heard the shower. It would drown out their conversation.

“So, he’s turnin’ out pretty good?” Trip asked expectantly.

“He’s performing well in his studies. He has the highest rank among the recruits. Despite his concern for your welfare, he has been . . . emotionally stable.”

“That’s sayin’ a lot. And he’s sixteen?! Isn’t that when the trouble’s supposed to start?”

“Vulcan children are never supposed to be trouble. Vulcan children are held to much higher standards than human children. But adolescent Vulcans experience particular challenges, emotional and physical, around the age of puberty.”

“Puberty at 30, middle age at 100. It still seems incredible. Speakin’ of your Vulcan superpowers . . . do you think this bond might just go back online?”

“It is possible. I am afraid I know very little about these things. The mating bond is not much discussed with youth on Vulcan. We learn only that it is a standard part of a healthy Vulcan marriage.”

“I wish your parents had been more forthcoming. I want a healthy Vulcan marriage,” Trip complained.

“I remember the last time we couldn’t share our thoughts, you said ‘But, I’m bonded to you the way humans bond.’”

He laughed in surprise. “And it’s true, darlin’! . . And when did I say that?”

“Right before you proposed to me.”

“You mean right before I agreed to your proposal,” Trip corrected. After all these years, each remembered their courtship differently—and still enjoyed debating this particular point. Trip got up and headed to his locker. It was gone. “Where’s my stuff?”

T’Pol lifted a cushion off a bench. It was his locker. Trip ran a few steps to it, and began rummaging through the long-lost items. He pulled out relatively new, five-year-old t-shirt and began to put it on.

After a moment he continued. “I heard Lorian had a fling with Paris.” It was another thing they would normally have discussed silently.

T’Pol nodded.

“Maybe he’ll take after his old man. . . .”

“Maybe. . . Trip, I think you should share some information with him regarding that possibility.”

“Sure, I’ll point him to the database.”

T’Pol raised an eyebrow at her husband. “Phlox has already compiled a video for the teenagers. It details the sexual practices of many species. Perhaps that will be sufficient.” Her tone implied that her husband was very lazy.

Trip was about to protest when Lorian exited the bathroom, dressed for work. The boy combed his fingers through his hair. He seemed to be going for a deliberately tousled look. He was so cocky. Trip could almost imagine his son bringing home two girlfriends and defending it to his parents. Or—another scary possibility— the boy might ignore the girls forever, expecting someone else to arrange his marriage. . . .

<< All right you win. >> Trip told T’Pol, though he knew she couldn’t hear him. “I’m hungry,” he announced out loud. “Who’s going to breakfast?”

“I don’t feel I can eat this morning,” T’Pol replied.

“She’s been like that for a while.” Lorian sounded worried. “I don’t see why Uncle Phlox can’t just fix it.”

“Phlox says my bio readings are acceptable,” T’Pol assured them both.

“Your bio readings are acceptable and THEN SOME.” Trip teased, as he grabbed his wife by the waist. He pulled her nose to nose, and began to nuzzle her. “You ready to start all over?” he murmured into her ear. If they had been alone he would have chewed on it.

“You shouldn’t confuse your son,” T’Pol objected, gently.

“He might think we like each other.”

“He might imitate your inappropriate behavior with one of his peers.”

“That would be tragic.” Trip laughed. They snuggled a few more seconds. As she slid from his embrace, he pulled a hand across her abdomen and gave it a possessive pat. Lorian eyed them suspiciously.

T’Pol was on her way to her locker when she froze. Her eyes opened wide in alarm. She turned back towards the bathroom, pushing past Lorian to get there. Then they heard her throwing up. Lorian’s mouth hung open in shock.

“Lorian, it’s all right, trust me,” Trip called over his shoulder, as he hurried after his wife. She was hunched over the biowaste recycler. Slowly she straightened.

Her brown eyes were watery. She must be miserable.

Trip watched her helplessly, mentally sending his apology.

“It’s not your fault,” she reminded.

Now they both looked across at Lorian, who had come to the doorway to check on his mother.

“Tell him what’s up,” Trip suggested firmly.

“I will, before I come to the meeting. Have the captain start without me.” She moved to the sink to rinse her mouth. Today even these mundane details seemed infused with special meaning. He watched T’Pol spit in the sink, persevering through adversity. She was so stoic and he respected that.

“Lorian.” Now Trip was thinking out loud. “Maybe you could attend this meeting. I want you to hear about the spheres.”

T’Pol wiped her face and replaced the towel, looking poised once again. “The officers have many issues to discuss beyond the spheres.” she said. “I am sure the senior staff will want to learn more details about your escape and the events leading to the defection of the Triannon.”

Trip hesitated. Did T’Pol suspect something?

“Lorian can go to work, and we can debrief him later on the relevant aspects of our discussion,” T’Pol suggested.

“Sounds good.” Trip agreed, beginning to worry. Surak asks us to cast out fear . . . . I didn’t do anything wrong . . . I should tell her now . . .

“Get to breakfast. I’ll be fine,” T'Pol told him as he hesitated. “I need to talk to Lorian alone.”

Trip nodded, took a deep breath, and headed out the door.

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Tiva was sitting with Major Hayes as Trip entered the mess hall. She was wearing human-style clothing. The loose robes were gone. Tiva was the opposite of his wife physically: less on top, more on the bottom. Trip still found her quite appealing, in spite of—maybe even because of—that difference. What did Henry Archer used to say? “Beyond here the stars are even brighter. . .”

Of course it wasn’t true, but it had helped propel them out into space . . .and into the Expanse. Tiva caught his eye even from across the room. It would be best to avoid her for a while.

The former missionary seemed embarrassed about the change in clothing style, so Trip gave her a bright smile and a thumbs up over the heads of the crowd. In fact, Tiva’s outfit was mismatched. Someone had carelessly given the Triannon a tank top with tattered dress pants. Tiva barely acknowledged her co-conspirator, even though he knew she understood the hand signal. His female friend now seemed to be ignoring him and it made him slightly anxious. Was she angry? It probably just means she’s adjusting well, he told himself firmly, turning to look for another place to sit.

Amanda and Destiny were waving him over. He happily took a seat with the large reunited family. Destiny’s youngest siblings were barely recognizable after a year and a half away. The older girl poked, tickled, and pestered the youngest—a fat two and a half year old—who wasn’t quite sure what to make of her new big sister. Trip watched the pair with a goofy smile on his face, remembering Lorian at that age . . . and wondering if his second baby would be as utterly amazing as the first . . .

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Trip entered the conference room and glanced toward Malcolm, another person he planned to avoid for a while. Rostov was addressing the security officer. “I’d recolumnate the plasma flow . . .but it keeps drifting out of alignment . . .”

“It wouldn’t do that if you’d just clean the plasma injectors once in a while . . .” Trip interjected jokingly.

“Hey, it’s the ‘new guy’!” returned Rostov with a grin.

“New guy’ my ass . . .” Trip countered. “I can feel my engines are still runnin’.”

“Yeah, 98 % efficiency, and it hasn’t been easy,” Rostov answered, “Spare parts seems to be our last priority.”

“Behind frivolous things like food and medicine . . , ” Hoshi explained.

“And tracking down criminals . . ., ” Phlox added.

“. . . but I still managed to install some improvements,” Rostov bragged.

“Ya don’t say . . .” Trip decided to be positive. “Well, I can’t wait to see ‘em, Roz.”

“Trip,” Jon announced in a casual tone. “I want Rostov to remain our chief engineer for the time being—to give you and your family time to reacclimate.”

This wasn’t good. “Jon, I’m sure I can . . .”

“It’s only temporary.” Jon assured the former chief engineer. “Rostov’s in the middle of a few projects. I’d like to give him time to wrap things up. It’ll make for a smoother transition . . . ”

“I guess that’s fair . . ,” Trip answered reluctantly.

“Where’s T’Pol?” Malcolm asked

“She’s running late.” Trip replied. “Maybe we should start without her.”

“Sure. First order of business: Who’s watching the alien?”

“Jeeze, Jon. She has a name: Tiva.”

“Sorry, Trip. I didn’t mean anything by it. But she is an alien.”

“And someone needs to watch her,” Malcolm added. Trip held his tongue.

“Anyway, it’s not like were calling her a Triny,” Travis noted defensively.

“A Triny?” Trip had never heard that.

“A name the children invented,” Phlox explained, lightly.

“Major Hayes is ‘entertaining’ Tiva.” Hoshi told Jon, getting back to business.

“Heavy-duty security for one little woman,” Trip observed, dryly.

“Can you blame us?” Archer asked. “Every Triannon we’ve ever tried to work with has stabbed us in the back. Just how well do you know this person, Trip?”

“I can vouch for her.” Trip shot Malcolm a warning look. Maybe Jon caught the exchange.

“Malcolm, you met her,” the captain said, “What’s she like?”

“She’s seems to be a lovely woman. At first she was little distraught. She’s made a big move, leaving her people.”

“A distraught Triannon? I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” Jon decided. “And she’s weaponized?!”

“Perhaps there’s something I can do.” Phlox contributed, brightly. “I’ll take a look at her today.”

“Until she’s disarmed, I want her guarded while she’s on this ship, I regret the lapse in security that lead to Destiny’s kidnapping. . . .”

Trip erased a slight scowl from his face. He knew the lapse was no one’s fault in particular¬¬—though it might be Malcolm’s—and he was beginning to fear that the crew would try to right their past security failure by hounding the only Triannon still available.

The captain was still talking. “. . .by the way, Trip, it was a remarkable escape. I can’t believe you pulled that off.”

“Thank Tiva . . . .” Trip answered—a little defiantly.

Just then T’Pol entered and nodded to Trip. She’s talked to Lorian. Trip smiled and relaxed somewhat as she took a spot by his side.

“What are we going to do with this woman on our ship?” Archer asked. “She’s only qualified for . . . what . . . teaching religion?”

“Yes, but she’s smart,” Trip responded. “She’s interested in science. The Triannon Prenoms would have us believe that some king of holy magic explains every interesting phenomenon in this sector. She’s come to doubt that.”

Malcolm asked, “So you propose we train her for a technical position?”

“It might take years, but sure. In the meantime, she’s willing to do anything. . . routine maintenance, food preparation, childcare.”

“Trip, no one would trust her with those chores.” Hoshi was the one to break this news.

“She would never do anything to hurt us,” Trip insisted.

“How could you possibly know that?” Jon inquired.

There was a silence as all eyes turned to Trip, and Trip looked to his wife. Do the right thing, Trip told himself.

“I know because . . ”

T’Pol’s chin came up, as she waited for his story.

“See… Tiva kinda has this crush on me. And I kinda . . . encouraged it . . . to get us off the ship and back home.”

T’Pol did not react, so he plunged ahead. “I mean it’s natural: Tiva worships the spheres . . . I’ve walked on a sphere . . . . In our religion class, I start showing off how much I know about these things . . . I mean, I’m an engineer . . . and next thing ya know Teacher’s lookin’ at me like I made ‘em myself. So I just, let her . . . I don’t know . . . admire me.” He looked around for support. “I thought it would help!”

They all turned to T’Pol for her assessment.

“The scientific training of the average Triannon is quite primitive,” T’Pol began with a thoughtful expression. “A technically knowledgeable prisoner could use that fact to gain an advantage . . .In fact . . . ” She seemed to lose her train of thought . .

. . so Trip finished for her. “. . . it’s logical, right?” He looked around hopefully. “Now this woman thinks I’m Superman.”

The officers exchanged covert looks.

“It makes sense from a security perspective,” Malcolm offered.

“I’m just surprised you pulled it off,” Jon commented. “You’re usually so . . .” his voice trailed off.

“. . . honest?” Travis suggested.

“Indeed,” T’Pol agreed, staring at her husband.

Jon pursued the issue. “After your accident, Trip, I couldn’t even get you to beg the Triannon Prenom for treatment. You wouldn’t lie to save your life.”

“Well, it’s not like I CAN’T,” Trip protested, “Remember the time those pirates attacked and I was the only one awake? I said Hoshi was my wife.”

Rostov snickered. “Remember that time you pretended to fall in love with a princess?” Tales from the early days were constantly rehashed among the homesick crew.

T’Pol jumped to her husband’s defense. “The nature of the Commander’s relationship with the princess is irrelevant. It occurred prior to our mating bond.”

Trip flashed a desperate warning, forgetting he was helpless . . .

T’Pol had begun her lecture, “A Vulcan mating bond renders the male unable . . . to hide his thoughts from his mate . . .”

She just told a lie, he noted with astonishment.

“. . . so at this point, an affair would be foolish. . .” T’Pol concluded, giving her husband a stern look. He nodded in agreement, accepting her. . . support . . .or whatever.

Archer was done harassing his best friend. “No one doubts you, Trip. We commend you on your escape. ‘By any means necessary,’ as a famous American once said.”

Phlox eyed Trip with a reluctant smile. “Generally I’d disagree with the concept of ‘the end justifies the means,’ but I can’t argue with results,” he said, exhaling in resignation. “I’ve got my daughter back thanks to you, Trip. I’m very grateful for that. You saved her life.”

Trip gave him a brief smile and a nod, accepting this.

“I agree that our children must come first,” Travis stated, fiercely serious.

“Actually there are billions of lives at stake,” Malcolm reminded.

Finally Jon retook control of the meeting. “That’s right. Trip’s little adventure may actually help us defeat the Xindi… Malcolm?”

All eyes turned to Malcolm. “As Trip left the sphere, he had the presence of mind to get to a window and take rough measurements. He used his hands held at arms length.”

“I left my sextant at home.” Trip chuckled.

“He noted that New Betelgeuse was 15 degrees from New Deneb, above a constellation that looked like a phase pistol, and beneath a constellation like an S. We’ve compared this information with our maps and believe we’ve fixed the location of the sphere here.” Beneath them the stars in a three-D star chart rolled dramatically to a stop. A transparent blob outlined the degree of error in the estimate.

“That space is 80 square light years!” Travis complained. “We could just say the sphere is near the spot we lost you.”

“No,” Malcolm corrected, “Trip’s information takes us perhaps an order of magnitude closer to the true location.”

“Maybe Tiva knows the true location,” Hoshi suggested.

“She claims she doesn’t,” Trip replied.

“Anything else?” Jon asked the room.

“Yeah, my view was lensed by a quite a few anomalies,” Trip added. “It seems the sphere is protected by some rather large bubbles of this stuff.”

“That may help,” Jon gave Trip a brief smile. “So before we move on to mundane topics, anything else concerning our long-range mission?

Malcolm cleared his throat, and glanced apologetically to his former best friend, “I am uncomfortable with giving Tiva any more information about it than necessary. She may be sympathetic to us, but the fact remains: if our mission succeeds, it will seriously disrupt her people’s way of life.”

“Trip, How much does she know?”

“That we’re from the future. That we hate these spheres. That we’re investigating them. That we would like to destroy them.

“We may be closing the barn door after the horses are out, but no more about our mission, and no more about the future,” Jon ordered. “Trip, I understand you shared some secrets to gain her confidence and get yourself home. But from here on out, we follow normal protocol. We know the dates the Xindi plan to attack Earth. That’s quite an advantage, and I’m not ready to give it up.”

“I’ll warn the kids at school not to say anything,” Hoshi said.

Travis was brimming with ideas for the next freight run. Enterprise had been dragging a heavy anchor for so long, unwilling to leave behind two crewmen lost at sea. Now they could move to safer waters and more profitable opportunities.

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As the officers as left the meeting, Malcolm stopped in the hatchway and turned to Trip. “I was hoping we’d get back to our Wednesday sparring,” the man suggested boldly, as if nothing important had happened since their last exercise session.

Malcolm waited for a response, but Trip hadn’t formulated one. Had Malcolm betrayed him? In so many ways he still seemed loyal. Trip wasn’t quite ready to sort it out.

“I’ll get back to ya,” Trip answered, pretending to be in a hurry, but Malcolm had become an obstacle in the doorway. In a ka-li-fee between Malcolm and me, I wonder who would win? It was nothing personal, just an abstract question. The guy claims he can kill with his bare hands, but .. . .Trip fantasized he was holding a spear. Now, the engineer he felt his face flush red. The fight or flight reflex, he realized. This is ridiculous.

“Malcolm?” Trip prompted, tilting his head to signal the guy to step aside.

As soon as Malcolm got the hint, Trip bolted out the door.

@@@@

I left him hanging, Trip considered, with a perverse satisfaction . . . then dismay. I’m 52 years old and acting like a kid! For the last year and a half, he’d done nothing but study religion and plot to get home. I prepared so long for this. Why is it going so badly?

First things, first. . . find T’Pol . . .

She was ahead in the hall. He jogged up behind her and caught her by the arm. She turned startled. He usually didn’t touch her in public. She gave him a questioning look.

“Just making sure you weren’t mad,” he said, hopefully.

“It is fortunate for you that I am able to suppress my emotions.”

“Look T’Pol, I should have given you a heads up . . .but it’s really nothin’,” She just stared back impassively. “T’Pol, you’re scarin’ me. Please talk to me?”

“We could have talked last night.” She replied, logically. “If we talk now, in this hall, the others will learn about the unfortunate status of our bond.”

“Yeah, why did you tell everyone it was workin’?” he asked, puzzled “I can’t pretend to read your mind.” As T’Pol glared back, Trip got a sick feeling that he really could guess her thoughts. Shifting into damage-control-mode, he scrambled. “You headin’ to engineering? I’ll meet you there. We can talk in my office . . .uh . . Rostov’s office!”

He had to shout this last part, as she was already striding down the corridor.

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Now it was Trip’s turn to be stoic. He surveyed the engineering room, silently cursing his Triannon captors . . . Everything had changed in his absence.

“Roz, these aren’t improvements. This technology is a step backwards . . .”

“In sophistication, yes. But this ship has to last a hundred years. Each time a part wore out I replaced it with something a little simpler, a little more durable. It is a little-known fact that the electronics used in the Space Shuttle were out of date for decades—deliberately so.”

“Core memory rather than semiconductors . . .”

“For superior reliability.”

Trip was upset, but knew better than to yell at his colleague. He was no longer his commanding officer. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure of his rank relative to the younger man.

“But we’re sacrificing speed . . .”

“We rarely need to go past warp 4.6.—just once in a while to dodge the bad guys. Anyway, it’s dangerous to push the engines for sustained periods. See I’m switching over to technology that’s readily available in this sector. Our systems are modular, so we can do this piecemeal.”

“But why make these sacrifices? You and I know how to fabricate replacement parts.”

“Most of the time. But what happens when we suffer extensive damage? We’ll be overwhelmed. What happens when you or I are gone? It wasn’t easy when we lost you. Some of the technical protocols were in your head.

“Ya can’t write everything down.”

“In twenty years the kids will be running the ship. Think of it, Trip . . .”

Trip imagined the fate of the world in the hands of Lorian and his friends. . . . If only they could defeat the Xindi by beating a video game or playing great basketball—Earth’s future would be secure.

“Keep it simple, stupid . . .” Trip mused aloud.

“It’s a sound principle.”

Maybe the guy was right.

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Trip was in his old office with T’Pol. Sharing it with Rostov was really no big deal. A soundproof room with a lockable door was valuable real estate on the small ship. If Trip had kept it to himself all these years, there probably would have been mutiny. For a long time the engineering staff had been taking turns with this space. The crew knew to feign disinterest whenever a couple entered or exited the room.

Today, Trip was glad he could count on at least this measure of privacy, because T’Pol was reading WAY too much into their little failure to communicate.

“But we ARE close,” Trip was pleading.

“Our bond has weakened.” T’Pol kept obsessing over this. “Perhaps if we had both been more . . . focused.”

“No, the state of the bond is simply . . a technicality . . . Our com system’s down, is all. It sucks, but it has nothing to do with us. We’re still close. We can talk!

“Then why didn’t you warn me. . .”

“T’Pol, I swear! You’re the only . . .”

Inconveniently, at that moment the real com system sounded. Trip sighed inaudibly as he punched the button.

“Phlox here. It’s Tiva. She’s just fine . . . for the time being. We are discussing her medical options and it seems she needs a second opinion.”

Despite the bad timing, Trip showed no irritation. “Tiva, you there? I’m with T’Pol. Everything all right?”

“Charles, I’m sorry. I said I wouldn’t bother you, but no one else would understand. Phlox thinks he can reverse the weaponization . . . but . . .”

“. . . if you go through with it, you wouldn’t be accepted on Triannon . . .”

“. . . should I ever want to return.”

“It’s no bother,” Trip replied graciously, with a sad smile. “T’Pol and I are a little busy, probably for another half period, but when we’re finished I’ll be right over.”

“Thank you.”

Trip turned his attention from the maiden in distress back to the woman causing him distress. The Vulcan’s hard edges had softened. “Why does she call you ‘Charles?’” his wife inquired.

Trip thought back to that fateful day. Tiva had come on to him—by asking if she could call him “Trip” (a name she’d heard from Destiny). If you want to be more personal, call me Charles, he’d replied at the time.

He was back in the present with T’Pol. “It’s how I introduce myself when I want to be professional,” he answered, sincerely. “I swear T’Pol, I was just doin' my job over there. I needed to get back to you and everyone else. Tiva threw me a lifeline; I took it.”

“Do you like her?”

“Yeah, I ‘like’ her.” He admitted. “But I LOVE you!”

The fight had gone out of his wife. Trip walked over to her, touched her shoulders, and she leaned limply into him. He held T’Pol a moment rubbing her back. Relief swept over him when suddenly she clutched him back.

“I’m not perfect,” he told her quietly. “But I swear. I was just doin’ my best.”

“I am . . . pleased the Triannon helped you return.” Judging from T’Pol’s shiny eyes this was clearly an understatement, and Trip melted.

“You are the mother of my children, how could you have thought . . .”

Now a hand slipped under his shirt, causing an involuntary snicker. “Hey, that tickles,” he protested, then quickly reciprocated. In another minute, all systems were go. Trip backed his wife up to the nearest vertical beam to get some leverage. They glanced to the hatchway. With no special psychic bond to help, they read each other’s minds like any other couple.

Did we lock that door?

Return to Chapter 1

JustTrip'n continued this series after Trip/T'Polers stopped accepting new submissions. You can find a continuation here.

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Eight hardy souls have made comments

*giggle* I still love the ending!

luv the endin made me lafe lolz luv it r u gonner do a chapter 3? lolz thnkx x

The next chapter is where it gets exciting. However real life is also calling me. Particularly I need to pay attention to my own 3 teenage "Lorians" with their high school soccer season starting and the oldest trying to pick a college for next year. So the answer is I hope by September 9 or 10, but if that deadline slides, you'll know why!

I'm glad that Trip finally came clean with T'Pol and that they're trying to work through it. Hopefully the bond will strengthen again for them. I'll be looking forward to reading Chapter 3 when you post it. Kids and school come first though, I understand. :)

Sorry people, I am nowhere near ready to put out part 3. Kind of going crazy over here. My oldest son got recruited for football, IN ADDITION to soccer. (He's the kicker.) Real life is great. My E-squared (imaginary) life is on hold. I console myself with the thought that I leave you with a Trip and T'Pol who are truely reunited--twice in two days! It's a shame because I actually do have an ending . . .

I feel for Tiva. Poor girl most feel lost and I am sure knows people are suspicious of her. She needs a new love interest! Nice setting up of the suspicion around her during the staff meeting - more conflict to come in chapter 3?

And Lorian's cocky look, LOL, - my grandson is going through a phase with long hair with greased thin strands hanging in front of his face and...gulp... eyeliner under his eyes. He says his girlfriend likes it. Had to bite my tongue not to say "would that be your girlfriend or your boyfriend?" I'm told it is the new punk, but what does an oldster like me know? Lorian's look I could probably accept, but I certainly can sympathize with his parents if they wince at it a bit!

Its great that Trip and T'Pol are back in love. I'd really check that door before things get hot and heavy though!

My son wears a wild pink strip dress shirt to school dances because, "I'm the only one who can pull off something like this."

With the archive closing I just want to say there is a remote chance I will finish this on the sucessor site, but if not,

Trip and T'Pol lived happily ever after . . . in a loving (if somewhat contentious) relationship.