Reflections of Another Universe - Part 3

TRIP/T’POLERS MU FANFIC CHALLENGE

Reflections of Another Universe

By: Misplaced

Rating: PG-13 for mild violence, language and some sexual situations
Genre: Mirror Universe, Action & Angst
Disclaimer: Nope, don’t own any of the Enterprise characters. I do this for free.
Archive: Yeah, just let me know where.
Spoilers: “In a Mirror, Darkly”
Summary: The mirror universe crew of the NX-01 go on a mission to rescue a captured member of the crew… while trying to keep a mutiny on ship at bay.

A/N: I began writing this fic before some of the newer spoilers for the MU episodes were revealed, so it’s not exactly true to the spoilers… with the exception that my little fic ONLY takes place in the mirror universe—where there has not been a Xindi attack on earth. There are NO real universe characters in my story. This part is unbeta’d, so I apologize if it’s not as good as the first two!

4-28-05

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Part 3 (Chapters 7-9)

Chapter Seven —SMALL SURPRISES

Trip was smirking. He liked the little disapproving look T’Pol had given him when he winked at her. Gotta keep the princess on her toes. He was in a better mood than earlier, more due to the fact that he was getting closer to a breakthrough on this Vulcan technology. He almost wished that she hadn’t come back so soon so that he could finish forming his plan—he almost wished it.

When the door opened to admit her, he barely moved. She nearly had to brush past him to get into the cell. Once the door closed again, Trip leaned against it, facing her with his arms folded.

“I take it you’re here to tell me that it’s time for one of those less than pleasant methods of extracting information.” Trip was rather calm. He had actually expected torture from the moment of his capture and had only taken advantage of his remaining good health while he could. T’Pol raised a delicate eyebrow.

“It is, indeed, time to approach your interrogation in a different manner,” she replied. Trip shook his head and sighed. The fun and games are over now.

“So, what’s it gonna be?” he asked, “Hot oil or the rack?”

“I’m afraid that I do not understand your reference.” Trip chuckled and ran his hand through his blonde hair. He moved to his bunk and sat down on it.

“It’s nothing,” he replied, “I was just asking how you were going to torture me.”

“I see.” T’Pol looked uncomfortable. She never really had looked comfortable, but this time Trip noticed a difference in the way she carried herself. She was pacing.

“Boy, it must be bad,” he said with a grin. She stopped and stared at him. In the back of his mind he noticed her exotic eyes again. Wake-up you idiot! She’s about to make your life a living hell! Trip did feel a twinge of anxiety. What could be bad enough to make a Vulcan give pause?

“I’m to perform a meld on you.”

“A what?”

“A mind meld.”

“Well that clears things right up,” he said sarcastically. T’Pol began pacing again.

“Commander, given your apparent lack of knowledge regarding Vulcans, I will inform you that we are touch telepaths,” she explained, “I am going to retrieve the information from your mind.” She stood still once more, but this time her eyes were elsewhere. Trip didn’t like the sound of this at all. He was right. This was going to be bad—real bad. Another part of his mind also remembered that strange jolt when she had touched his shoulder before.

“What if I don’t let you touch me?” T’Pol raised an eyebrow.

“I can assure you that I will perform the meld whether or not you require restraints.” Trip rubbed his eyes and lay back on his bunk.

“Damned if I do, damned if I don’t,” he muttered under his breath. Less than a second later a light bulb went off in his mind, causing him to stand up. “Wait a second,” he said as he walked closer to her, “If you could just read my mind, why didn’t you do it when you captured us? Save yourself the trouble of the interrogation?”

“It is not… agreeable… for the Vulcan performing the meld,” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better, darlin’?” he snapped, “Because it ain’t workin’.” T’Pol was visibly bristled.

“Why would I attempt to make you ‘feel better’?” she asked. Trip stood over her menacingly.

“How the hell should I know?”

“Commander Tucker, you are acting irrationally once again.”

“Irrational? That’s rich,” he snarled at her, “I’m supposed to be calm when you tell me that you’re about to invade my mind?”

“You were given the opportunity to explain yourself without compulsion,” she replied icily, “Your refusal necessitated this course of action.”

“Oh, so I brought this on myself?” he snapped, “Sweetheart, if you hadn’t taken us prisoner in the first place, none of this would be necessary!”

“If you hadn’t been in Vulcan space there would have been no need to apprehend you,” T’Pol shot back, her calm voice becoming strained. The two of them were nose to nose now.

“Why you little stubborn, cold, green-blooded—“

“Stubborn is an accurate description of your behavior,” she cut him off. Trip ground his teeth and felt his hands balling into fists. He wanted to roar. He wanted to smack some expression into her cold Vulcan face. Most of all, he was frustrated that a small part of him wanted her to touch him again.

“Well, it takes one to know one, princess!” he fired at her. Her nostrils flared.

“Commander,” she said tensely, “Are you going to cooperate with the meld, or do I need to have the guards control you?”

Trip didn’t answer right away. He didn’t want to cooperate—of course not! At the same time she had made it quite clear that she was going through with it regardless of what he wanted. If he was going to be forced into this, it might be better to not be tied down at the same time. On the other hand, he had a duty to fight it—but could he fight it? Did he really want to fight it? Of course I do! I don’t want her in my head…right? Trip suddenly found himself wishing that he hadn’t demanded her as his interrogator. He cursed himself for being so attracted to her.

“Sonofabitch!” he swore, rubbing his eyes, “Fine.”

“Fine?” T’Pol inquired.

“Yes, fine, I’ll cooperate—physically,” he muttered, “But if you think I’ll just let you waltz in my mind and look at whatever the hell you please…”

“Mental resistance is to be expected,” she stated in her usual detached tone.

“Fair enough,” Trip said, still angry at the whole damn situation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phlox hovered over one of the myriad cages in sickbay. Inside was a small creature with soft brown fur, running around the cage erratically. The Denobulan held a medical scanner in his hand. After a few moments, the creature made a high pitched keening noise and began to writhe on the floor of the cage. Phlox’s expression remained passive. Eventually the sound stopped as well as the thrashing and the doctor stood up.

“Hmm… Three minutes,” he said to no one in particular, “Decreasing the dosage might prolong the desired effects.”

He had just turned away from his experiment when the doors to sickbay opened. When he saw that it was Hoshi, he frowned.

“Yes, Ensign, what can I do for you?” he asked in a bored voice. She smiled at him.

“I thought that maybe you could take care of this for me,” she answered as she unzipped the front of her jumper and pulled it down to show her back. There were red streaks across her back; some of those that had been scabbed over were puffy and painful looking. Phlox turned his scanner on her.

“It appears that these are becoming infected, you will need antibiotics,” he stated, “When did you receive these?”

“Oh, a few days ago,” she said nonchalantly, “I thought that they would just heal on their own, but the itching was getting to me.”

“I didn’t realize that Archer used a whip.”

“Uh,” Hoshi said, caught off guard by such a direct statement, “The Captain likes variety.”

“Mm-mm,” mumbled Phlox, as he pressed the hypo spray to her neck. “I’d prefer a little warning in the future if I’m going to be treating injuries from sexual exploits.”

“Of course.” Phlox didn’t believe that Archer had done it; it wasn’t the Captain’s M.O. Lieutenant Reed on the other hand…

“Is there anything else?” he asked as Hoshi zipped up her jumpsuit again.

“Actually, Doctor, there is,” she answered. Before she could continue, the doors opened once more, this time admitting Archer. Hoshi scowled briefly.

“Thanks,” she said as she walked toward the door. She stopped in front of Archer and pulled his head down into a lusty kiss. After she left the room, Archer gave Phlox a questioning look.

“What was that all about?” he asked.

“Let me just say that I believe that Hoshi isn’t just the Captain’s woman,” the doctor answered.

“I know.”

“And, I believe she came to discuss something other than medical treatment.”

“I didn’t come here to talk about medical treatment either,” Archer replied.

“Captain, let’s be direct,” said Phlox bluntly, “Are you still working to rescue Commander Tucker?”

“Yes,” Archer answered, “We’re pursuing the Vulcans as we speak.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about, Captain.” Phlox turned away, believing the conversation to be over.

“And what if Trip is dead, Phlox?” At this, the doctor turned around and stared at the Captain intensely.

“If that turns out to be the case, then I might suggest a nice meal and some sweet talk would be in order,” Phlox responded, “Now, shoo! I’m very busy.”

Chapter Eight – INVASION AND DISCOVERY

T’Pol knelt across from Commander Tucker on the floor of the brig. She would have preferred to use a meditation pillow, but she believed that if she left before performing the meld, the Commander might change his mind about cooperating. T’Pol was slightly unsettled, not sure that she wanted to go into the Commander’s mind, let alone touch him after their last experience. She had melded successfully with other alien species, but it wasn’t the chaos that she expected to find in the human’s thoughts that made her concerned.

“Have you ever done it with a human before?” Tucker asked, clearing his throat before adding, “A meld, I mean?”

“No, I have not,” T’Pol replied in a voice that came out more quiet than she intended.

“So, you don’t even know if this will work?” he replied. T’Pol narrowed her eyes at him.

“You assume that Vulcans have never melded with your species before. It is unwise to make such a hypothesis with your inadequate understanding of the procedure.” The human’s expression changed. His veins became more prominent and T’Pol recognized that his temper was rising once more. She often underestimated how volatile his emotions were.

“Are you trying to make me angry?” he hissed, “Or, are you always so pleasant?”

“Commander, I was merely correcting your fallacious belief that humans and Vulcans are incapable of melding,” she answered, more than a little perplexed as to why the Commander seemed to take offense so often.

“--And calling me an idiot at the same time.”

“At no point did I reference your intelligence level.”

“Darlin’, I know insinuation when I hear it,” he said with a glare. She disliked it when he used nicknames such as ‘darlin’’ and ‘sweetheart’ when referring to her. She disliked it even more after he had been repeatedly reminded to use more formal and appropriate terms. T’Pol preferred not to think why the intimate manner of address from him disturbed her; she had experienced the much same with other alien prisoners in the past without any affect on her.

“Commander—“

“Forget it,” he said, cutting her off with the wave of his hand, “Let’s just get this damn thing over with before I change my mind.”

“Agreed.” T’Pol closed her eyes and took several deep breaths to prepare her mind for the meld. She fortified her mental defenses to keep the joining completely one-sided. When she opened her eyes again, she found the human staring at her mouth. His eyes flicked to hers almost instantly, but not quick enough. He apparently had a fascination with her lips as she had often caught him staring at them. T’Pol found his physical attraction to her both pleasing and disconcerting—disconcerting because she found it pleasing. She raised her eyebrow at the thought.

“Well?” he asked, “Is it over?”

“I have not yet begun, Commander,” she responded, “Patience is a quality that you should, perhaps, attempt to acquire.”

The human laughed, which again, was baffling. T’Pol couldn’t predict what his reaction might be at any given moment. He was clearly unstable. Vulcans were wise in their decision to distance themselves from these irrational beings.

“I can be patient,” he said, “But my knees say otherwise.” T’Pol took another deep breath. She realized that she was procrastinating. It was an illogical action.

“It may help if you relax your breathing,” she instructed, adding “You did say that you would cooperate physically,” when he seemed balk. He rolled his eyes before closing them.

After he took a few deep breaths, T’Pol reached her slender hand and delicately placed her fingers on the contact points on his face. There was a spark that jolted her when she touched him; it was highly unusual. The Commander opened his eyes and stared at her with curiosity plain in them. The jolt passed almost as quickly as it had come, but there was a resonating hum still in the connection.

“My mind to your mind,” she began, “My thoughts to your thoughts… our minds are one.” He involuntarily spoke the last words with her, transporting them into Commander Tucker’s mind…

…T’Pol gave his mind a cursory glance, or the image his mind produced of itself. She was surprised to find it somewhat organized. His mind appeared as a labyrinth of corridors containing doorways. It was neither warm nor cold, as she had experienced in other’s minds before him. In fact, the atmosphere was quite comfortable. She was intrigued that he did not create a more inhospitable environment for her intrusion.

T’Pol also found it interesting that he would represent his mind with such a concrete visualization rather than something more abstract. She idly speculated whether or not this representation was specific to the Commander, himself, or if it was indicative of a human mind.

“Intriguing,” she said.

“Thank you,” Commander Tucker smiled. He was standing before what appeared to be the entrance to the labyrinth. When she walked towards it, he stepped in front of her, wagging his finger.

“Uh-uh, princess,” his grin widening as he spoke, “This is the end of my cooperation.”

“That is irrelevant,” T’Pol returned, pushing him aside. As she stepped across the entrance, doors slid closed across the doorways and indicator lights that she hadn’t noticed before changed from green to red. She took that to mean that the doors were locked. T’Pol turned and raised an eyebrow at the Commander. He was still smiling.

“Good luck, darlin’,” he winked.

“Luck is immaterial,” she responded as she began walking down the first corridor.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he chuckled as he walked beside her. She stopped and looked at him.

“Commander, your informal manner of addressing me—“

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, “You call me Trip and I’ll call you T’Pol—then we’ll both be happy.” T’Pol found herself gritting her teeth. The human was difficult. She didn’t answer him, instead continuing to walk down the corridor. He snorted.

“And I’m the stubborn one?” he chuckled, shaking his head. T’Pol chose not to reply, though she found a retort threatening to pass through her lips. She paused a moment to strengthen her control. Obviously, this would not be an easy meld.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Malcom traced his finger lazily over Hoshi’s bare shoulder. They were lying in his bed, having just finished one of their more tame encounters. Malcom looked forward with malicious pleasure to the time that she would be all his.

“I have to go,” Hoshi said as she sat up. He watched her silently for a moment, admiring her naked curves, but more the fading marks on her back. It was a pity that those were barely perceptible now. He would have to make a more permanent mark when he became Captain.

“You know I hate it when you go to him,” Malcom said quietly. Hoshi paused in dressing and turned to him.

“Then kill him,” she smiled coyly at him, “That is your plan, right?” Malcom lazily got out of bed and walked to her. He pulled her toward him, turning her so that her back was pressed against him. When he spoke, it was barely above a whisper, his breath lingering on her ear.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” In the mirror he could see her face darken as she glared at him. “I have no plans to murder Archer.” When Hoshi opened her mouth to say something, he gently pressed her mouth closed.

“However,” Malcom continued, “I can’t help it if someone else does.”

Hoshi’s eyes widened as understanding dawned on her. Malcom felt a surge of wicked pleasure as he brought his teeth down on her shoulder. Archer would have to wait for his evening delight, Malcom wasn’t finished yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After what seemed like ages of walking through the labyrinth of his mind, Trip found that he was growing irritable and tired. T’Pol hadn’t tried to open any of the doors, though she had studied several, especially those that stood out a little from the others.

“Aren’t you the least bit curious?” he asked when she had turned away from yet another door.

“Curious?” she inquired.

“Y’know,” he said, “about what’s behind it?”

“No,” she answered without hesitation. That aggravated Trip further.

“What? It might be unpleasant, understanding humans better?” T’Pol stopped walking and turned to face him.

“Commander, my purpose is not to understand humans better, but to discover what your intentions were in Vulcan space,” she responded wearily, adding, “Your interest in my opening the door further confirms my suspicions that it does not contain the information that I seek.”

“How long are you gonna keep this up?” Trip asked. He was worn-out and though they were in his mind, he could feel his physical body starting to cramp from kneeling for so long.

“As long as needed,” she stated with a note of finality that made Trip grit his teeth. His one consolation was that he knew that her physical body was experiencing some discomfort as well. Wait, he thought, how’d I know that? He stopped, wondering if the meld wasn’t just one-sided. He was sure that he would have noticed earlier if he could sense her thoughts as well. Trip concentrated, attempting to see if he could delve deeper into her mind. He sensed her growing irritation and frustration.

“Commander.” Her voice, somewhat strained, had broken his concentration. He glared at her as she gazed back at him. They stood in a staring match for a while, before she finally broke eye contact and proceeded down another corridor of doors. Trip concentrated once more in an effort to sense her mind, but it was in vain. There was nothing there. Muttering an explicative under his breath, he started walking again.

When he turned a corner, he almost ran into T’Pol. She was studying another door. It was scarred and blackened, and it appeared as if it hadn’t been opened in quite a while. Trip grimaced when he saw it.

“You do not wish for me to open this door,” T’Pol stated, analyzing his reaction. Trip realized that there was probably no point in lying, since she was in his mind after all.

“No, I don’t,” he replied, “But it isn’t for the reason you might think.” He snorted, “Hell, I don’t even open this door.”

T’Pol didn’t respond right away, instead turning her intense gaze back to the door. Trip hoped that she would move on soon as she had with other doors. His frown deepened when she place her hand on the disfigured door instead.

“I promise, the answer you’re looking for isn’t behind that door,” he said in desperation.

“That is a plausible suggestion,” T’Pol agreed, “However; I also have to take into consideration that you were not planning on cooperating mentally with this meld. I find it difficult to believe that you would willingly assist me now.” Trip laughed incredulously.

“You Vulcans and your damn logic!” he groaned, “I’m not trying to help you.”

“Even so, Commander,” she said, “I have made my decision.” She turned her attention to the keypad next to the door. Trip closed his eyes as a slow panic was building within him.

Chapter Nine – LAYERS

Archer knew he should go to his quarters—Hoshi would be there soon—but lovemaking with her wasn’t all that appealing to him at the moment, not since it had become part of the political game. Of course, he had made it even harder on himself by keeping up the pretense of being in love with the backstabbing whore. When the crew was reminded once again what the proper hierarchy was, he’d straighten Hoshi out.

He began to stand from his desk, thinking he should probably pick up a bottle of wine from the galley to add another touch in his little charade. The comm came to life, interrupting his thoughts. He pressed the button wondering who would be disturbing him at this hour.

“Go ahead.”

“Sir, Major Hayes is here to see you,” said one of Archer’s personal guards. (Archer usually had one with him at all times, but since Trip’s disappearance, he had upped the number to two.)

“Send him in.”

“Aye sir.” The door slid open and the Major stepped across the threshold. Archer stood examining the man before him. Though not as tall as the Captain, Major Hayes had an intimidating presence nonetheless. His spiky black hair was tinged with grey at the side. On his cheek there was a large circular scar that turned into a deep dimple when he smiled—but like the other members of the crew on Enterprise, Hayes seldom smiled.

The Major stood attention before the Captain, ever the consummate soldier. Archer eyed him looking for any indication as to why Hayes would need to visit the Captain without being summoned. The Major’s face was expressionless.

“What is it?” Archer asked, not bother to offer Hayes a chair.

“Will my men be boarding the Vulcan ship in order to retrieve the away team?” Archer barked a laugh.

“Now I know why you don’t get involved in politics.”

“Sir?”

“Sit down, Major,” Archer said as he waved his hand to the chair opposite of him. Hayes sat rigidly with his hands in his lap.

“What is it?” Archer asked again.

“I heard a change may be coming.”

“Did you?”

“That’s the rumor, sir.” Archer sat back in his chair frowning.

“Sounds like an unfounded rumor to me,” he said.

“Perhaps,” Hayes agreed, adding, “Perhaps I can help make sure it is.” Archer raised his eyebrows at this.

“I thought you didn’t choose sides, Major.”

“I don’t, sir.”

“I see,” Archer replied, contemplating what he thought Hayes was implying, “Is that all?”

“For now, sir.” Archer stared at Hayes a moment longer, looking for a hint of duplicity in the Major’s blue eyes. Unfortunately they were as unreadable as his face.

“Dismissed,” the Captain finally replied and Hayes stood to leave.

“Major,” Archer said, stopping the other man, “How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t, sir,” Hayes responded, giving the Captain a grin before leaving the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

T’Pol glanced at the Commander when, after several attempts, she managed to surpass the lock. His pallor paled as the unkempt door slid open. She could sense his immense discomfort, which caused her to hesitate.

“Please,” he said in a quiet voice, “what you’re looking for isn’t in there.” T’Pol was taken aback by the desperation in his voice. Through the meld, she knew that he was right; the answer she sought was not through the doorway. She was curious as to what secret the human would find more important than the reason for his presence in Vulcan space—more so, it was a secret he wanted to keep from her.

It would be illogical for her to proceed, knowing that it would only serve to delay finding the specific answer she sought. Yet, perhaps there was something to this greater secret he held that might provide some leverage in her interrogation. As T’Pol stepped across the threshold she heard the human speak, but the words were lost as her senses were assaulted….

The bright flash of an explosion and pain—so much pain! There were voices, but they were unintelligible, just mumbles under the klaxon of alarms.

~FLICKER~

There were voices again, hazy, but more distinct this time.

“Not without more drastic measures.”

~FLICKER~

The room was filled with darkness and silence. T’Pol waited patiently, puzzled as to why the human was so disturbed by these memories and then…

Everything flooded with blinding white light and loud noises. There was a baby crying as well. The room came slowly into better focus, as T’Pol saw a human female looking down with affection at a baby in her arms. Before the image solidified, it shifted to a Denobulan male holding a baby—the same baby. The images shifted back and forth, and eventually overlapped.

~FLICKER~

Childhood memories flashed past in quick order. There was the same duality of overlapping memories. The image of a small human boy running through the sand on a beach was overlaid with the image of the same boy at the same age running through the corridors of a spaceship. Another image of a human woman—the boy’s mother, T’Pol supposed—reading to the boy was converged with an image of the Denobulan reading to the boy.

The memories rushed at T’Pol as if they had been tightly coiled for so long…

The boy—Commander Tucker, T’Pol presumed—was older now, in school—but not in school as he sat with his studies. A human teacher walked by the boy’s desk and was overlaid with the Denobulan.

The boy was also becoming dual, and overlapping himself with images of a bright, hopeful child and a serious, sadder child.

~FLICKER~

The boy was a young man now, wearing a uniform that was constantly changing between two different styles. His expression alternated as well from pride to resignation.

“—What if I don’t want to?”

~FLICKER~

Layers of a young man in an academy mingled and tangled with layers of a young man on a starship. One was proud, determined and ambitious; the other was severe, serious and sad.

~FLICKER~

The memories converged slightly as both versions of the human—now a man—were working on the same ship in the same room—presumably the engineering room.

T’Pol was startled as another brilliant flash flooded the room.

~FLICKER~

The memories were singular now. The Commander sat on a bed in a medical facility—the ship’s sickbay, T’Pol presumed. He looked haggard; a mixture of anger, confusion and sadness permeated his features. The doors opened and the Denobulan—Doctor Phlox, T’Pol gathered from the Commander’s memories—entered. He frowned upon seeing the human sitting in bed.

“Who—“ was all the Commander could get out before slipping to unconsciousness and turning the room black once more.

~FLICKER~

T’Pol realized that the Commander, not the memory of him, stood beside her and had seen everything she had. Pain was evident on his features. Before she could speak to him the scene changed again…

Blackness turned to light once more as voices could be heard. T’Pol recognized one as the Denobulan doctor and the other as the unseen Captain from the beginning of the memory onslaught. The sickbay came slowly into focus as Commander Tucker was awakening on his bed.

It was becoming evident that the men were becoming weary after a while. Archer came in close for another attack which Trip deflected, punching the other man in the face. The hit must have been hard as it caused the Captain to drop his dagger. Trip kicked it away quickly and knocked Archer face first to the floor. Kneeing the Captain in the back, Trip pulled Archer’s head up and placed the blade of the dagger at his throat.

The memory was suddenly overlaid with an ethereal quality and T’Pol realized that the human had dreams of this memory.

“Do it,” growled Archer, “Kill me, you bastard!”

Trip stood over Archer, who was lying in the pool of blood. The dagger clattered to the floor, echoing in the room.

The ethereal overlay disappeared but the memory continued on.

Phlox placed his hand on the Commander’s shoulder.

The Commander let go of Phlox and made as if to return to his bed. He had taken only a step before collapsing to the floor.

~FLICKER~

Archer now lay on a bed in the sickbay, straps restraining his arms and legs. Trip stood over him wearing the same haggard expression as before. His mind was working, attempting to rationalize his decision to save the Captain. T’Pol realized that he feared losing respect from those below him in the command hierarchy by such an act of compassion.

“Because suddenly it didn’t seem that important.”

Blackness pervaded the room once more. T’Pol found the memories intriguing and somewhat puzzling. She turned to the Commander next to her, but he was still staring strait ahead. His mouth was moving and his whisper was barely audible.

“The dream.”

~FLICKER~

Everything was strangely blurry and the colors were wrong.

Trip was lying on his back, unable to move. One of the curtains that surrounded the bed pulled back to reveal the Denobulan doctor, Phlox, who looked down on him with brilliant, cold blue eyes.

“What have you done?!”

~FLICKER~

This time the images were very much in focus. T’Pol believed that this memory was the most vivid of all the previous ones.

Before her, the Commander lay on a bed with cranial sensors resting on his forehead, just as he had in the dream. He was unconscious and his breathing seemed mechanical.

“At least one of us can have some peace now,” Trip murmured, overtaken again by the hollowness that was becoming a part of him. He dropped to his knees and buried his face in the dying man’s chest, his body convulsing uncontrollably.

The intensity of the emotions overwhelmed T’Pol. Anger, hate, self-loathing, guilt, regret, sadness, disappointment, frustration, pain and confusion (most of all) pummeled her as she desperately clawed her way out of the room.

*********

Part 4 (Chapters 10-12)

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A whole mess of folks have made comments

That was amazing and intriguing. I can't wait for the next chapter.

SOoooooo good! In a dark, disturbing kinda way! I'm so intrigued that you thought to use a Mirror Sim storyline... I was so NOT expecting that!

Can't wait for the next part! I'm giddy! :)

WOW!!! That was interestin. What away for T'pol to get a look at the MU Trip through the events of Sim. Now the question is why the heck did Archer agree to save Trip and create Sim, and How will T'pol react to this. Cant wait for the next update. :)

Wow! That was unexpected. Good grief . . . I'm looking forward to part four!

Breathtaking!!! And brilliant! Wow!

Can´t wait, can´t wait!!!!

This is really really good, I want you to hurry, but if you're going to write stuff like this
then it's worth the wait!

Oooooooooooh! That was good! Can't wait for more, update soon! :)

What an amazing take on the MU, using Sim like that! Cleverly done, and well written. Looking forwards to the next part.

I guess if there's a Mirror Trip, there's a Mirror Sim, huh? I'm glad...

I finally got to read your three parter (so far...more more more!)

Loved it!

Wow, talk about dark twists that was very intense and unexpected. Can't wait to see what happens next! Ali D :~)

Hellooooooooooooooooooooooooo? I check again and again for the next part. Still nothing. Where is it?! Should we offer some chocolate???

Thanks for your kind words everyone! I'm glad that you are enjoying my take on the MU. :)

I'm sorry that it's taking longer to get Part 4 (the conclusion)... My muse has been a cruel mistress! LOL! I'll take some chocolate, though! And I will get this finished ASAP!

Thanks again!

Recently read all three parts in one go...can't wait for the update!

Very well done!

Please continue!

Great MU story. I like the backstabing politics back on Enterprise. I was pleased to see MU Sim. The interaction between T'Pol and Trip are wonderful. Looking forward to Part 4.