Consequences-Part 32

Consequences

By Samantha Quinn

All disclaimers in part 1

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Part 32

. . . To Wash the Spider Out?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Soval had been correct. She had grown accustomed to spices. So much accustomed that T’Pol was considering the bland morning meal nearly inedible. It needed pepper.

As disconcerting as that realization was, stronger still was the realization that T’Pol craved mealtime conversation. Her meals, typically shared with the very talkative Commander Tucker and Captain Archer, were always conduits of dialogue. Digesting her food without any accompanying banter seemed distinctly unnatural to T’Pol. Unnatural as it was, however, T’Pol forced herself to endure the silence. She was, after all, on her home world now. And so, they ate in silence.

Their food completed, T’Lara spoke. “T’Pol, I have made the preparations for the meal following your ceremony tomorrow. Is there any specific dish you would prefer?”

Irrationally, T’Pol thought of a certain dish immediately. A certain sweet dish. She dismissed the notion, as it would be nearly impossible to obtain pecans. *Even if it were not, how could I explain my preference for it?* Unfortunately, the brief thought was enough to induce considerable additional pain. T’Pol gripped the edge of the table and closed her eyes briefly in an effort to gain control.

Her effort worked, but caused T’Lara room for concern. Skon had seen such a demonstration before, and so the action was not as unexpected. He had no doubt that his wife’s question had compelled a strong emotional response tied to the human ship T’Pol was on leave from. T”Lara, on the other hand, had not been privy to as many displays of T’Pol’s illness and was thus justifiably more disturbed.

“Are you well, T’Pol?” T’Lara asked.

A small part of T’Pol-no doubt, the part being most heavily affected by her illness-wanted to laugh. *If I were well, I would not be on Vulcan,* T’Pol wanted to respond. Such a response would be illogically inhospitable, however. Instead, T’Pol answered, “Yes, I am well. I require no personal requests for the meal.”

T’Lara nodded and T’Pol took the opportunity to ask the question that had plagued her since her conversation with Skon the previous day. “Skon, have you heard from Ambassador V’Lar since we last spoke?”

The older Vulcan had indeed. “Yes, T’Pol, Ambassador V’Lar has notified me concerning Commander Tucker’s circumstances.”

T’Pol sat a little straighter than a reserved Vulcan would have. “How is his condition progressing?” she asked.

The pause in Skon’s answer was enough to provide the truth. But T’Pol refused to believe it until Skon confirmed her suspicions when he spoke. “V’Lar has proclaimed that the condition is not. . . progressing as well as could be hoped.”

Again, T’Pol closed to her eyes in an effort to gain control. This time, however, the pain she sought to end was not physical. As such, her efforts achieved little. “He is going to die,” she said softly.

Neither of the older Vulcans rebuked her for her display of emotion. Even Surak had known there was sometimes sufficient cause for emotional displays. Now surely was one of those times. “I grieve with you, T’Pol,” Skon offered.

Her head snapped up at the statement. “Do you?” she inquired.

“Of course we do,” T’Lara spoke up.

Turning her gaze towards Skon, T’Pol looked at him directly. “I have been contemplating Commander Tucker’s condition. You claim that Sokar died because his wife lacked the typical telepathic abilities possessed by Vulcans. Additionally, Koss claims that melding can help ease the symptoms of pon far.”

Skon leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. “Both of those statements are correct,” he answered.

“Then it is possible that by melding, Commander Tucker’s problem could be alleviated?” T’Pol questioned.

Skon raised an eyebrow at the question. “I suppose it may be possible,” he agreed. “However, we have no way of knowing for certain. There are no documented melds involving humans.”

“But it is certain if we do nothing, Commander Tucker will die, is it not?” T’Pol replied.

Skon hesitated slightly. “It is not certain. . . but it is the most probable scenario.”

T’Pol closed her eyes yet again. “Then we must attempt a meld.”

“T’Pol, I understand your willingness to help your crewman,” Skon conceded. T’Pol wondered briefly if he was expressing tact or ignorance by calling Commander Tucker her ‘crewman.’ “However, you must understand that there will be considerable reluctance amongst most of our people to bond with a human.”

“I find it difficult to understand why a melder would propagate such bigotry. If any Vulcan should embrace the concept of IDIC, I would think melders would,” T’Pol retorted.

Her point was well taken. Skon and T’Lara both nodded in agreement. “It is not that simple, T’Pol,” T’Lara pointed out. “When two Vulcans are bonded, they share their most intimate thoughts.”

“I am aware of that,” T’Pol replied stubbornly.

“But perhaps you are not aware of the fact that when two Vulcans are bonded, they are drawn to one another when their time of mating occurs,” Skon informed her.

She had not known that. And she was more than a bit irritated that no one had seen fit to tell her that before she agreed to bond with Sopel. “Is this the case with all melds?” she asked, “Or just the mating type?”

“The mating type,” Skon answered. “I assume that would be the type Commander Tucker would require if he were to be healed using a meld. However, because of the personal nature involved, I do not know if a Vulcan would be willing to bond with the Commander. Not necessarily because of bigotry, but because we are not certain how a human would respond to our cultural practices.”

“In my experience, humans respond very well to Vulcan rituals. They demonstrate both interest and aptitude when encouraged to engage in practices of our world that they have been privy to,” T’Pol informed them.

“Indeed?” T’Lara questioned. “What examples can you provide?”

“Ensign Hoshi Sato has engaged in Vulcan meditation techniques in an effort to suppress her most undesirable feelings. Lieutenant Malcolm Reed has mastered several of the most complicated Vulcan martial arts rituals,” T’Pol offered. “Indeed, Commander Tucker has demonstrated immense curiosity for Vulcan rituals.” That was true enough, although T’Pol had frequently declined to answer him truthfully.

“Your Captain Archer did demonstrate an urge to know more about Vulcan history,” Skon mused. “Still, while you and I may believe these events to be true, it is doubtful that we can convince another Vulcan enough that they would wish to bond with Commander Tucker, however curious he may be.”

“Then I will bond with him,” T’Pol stated simply.

Four eyebrows raised at her declaration. “You cannot, T’Pol. You are set to wed-"

“And I will still wed Sopel,” T’Pol said firmly, interrupting T’Lara. “But I will not sit back and permit Commander Tucker to die. Not when I can prevent it.”

“There is the issue of getting the Enterprise here without arousing suspicion,” T’Lara protested.

T’Pol looked at T’Lara as she addressed her. “I would appreciate having my colleagues at my ritual marital meal. Perhaps you will arrange that, Captain Skon?”

The male Vulcan nodded. “I will do all within my power, T’Pol,” he vowed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The bridge of Enterprise was as equally morose as her makeshift theatre had been the night before. Archer was relieved to be able to leave the atmosphere when he received a hail from Vulcan. He was greeted by the serenely calm face of Captain Skon. Again, Archer could not help but wonder if he demonstrated such calm. *Probably not,* he noted to himself. Then again, how could he have expected to demonstrate calm given the circumstances. That very morning, Phlox had informed him the treatment for Commander Tucker was not producing the necessary results.

“Captain Skon, this is somewhat unexpected,” Archer said honestly. “Is everything alright with T’Pol?” *Please let everything be okay,* he prayed silently. Archer couldn’t handle the additional burden of T’Pol’s illness on top of Trip’s.

“Sub-Commander T’Pol is well,” Skon answered. “It is on her behalf that I am contacting you.”

Archer frowned slightly to express his puzzlement. “If she’s okay, then what’s the trouble?”

Skon cocked his head in a gesture which demonstrated considerable amusement-for a Vulcan. “Why do you believe there to be . . . ‘trouble’?” the venerable Vulcan inquired.

“I’ve not known many Vulcans that would call up a Starfleet vessel unless there was some pressing matter that needed to be discussed.” If Archer’s tone was unnecessarily harsh, it was because he no longer felt as though he had the luxury to debate such unessential elements.

Skon did not point out that “a pressing matter” was not synonymous with “trouble.” Instead, he informed the Captain, “I am here to formally invite you to the wedding meal of Sub-Commander T’Pol.”

It took a moment for Archer to process that information. “T’Pol. . . is getting MARRIED?” he exclaimed. “But she and Trip-“ he stopped, realizing it was most inappropriate to disclose what he had almost spilled. *But, oh, God, poor Trip,* Archer thought to himself. *It doesn’t make any sense, though.* Archer clearly remembered the conversation in sickbay he’d had with T’Pol when he’d still believed Trip was guilty of assaulting Ambassador Soval. While his first officer had insisted that there was nothing between them, Archer had been convinced otherwise.

*Maybe I should have listened to her,* the Captain thought remorsefully. Because Archer was certain that T’Pol would not have married someone else if she had been involved with Trip.

“Yes, Captain Archer, T’Pol is to be wed to Prince Sopel. He is a very well known anthropologist working on Vulcan-Andorian relations,” Skon replied.

“I see. Speaking of Vulcan-Andorian relations, I’m kind of in the middle of negotiations. So as much as we’d like to attend, I’m not sure we can just bow out of the conference,” Archer said apologetically. He was sincere in his apology. Archer was an explorer, after all. And a Vulcan wedding ceremony had to be as unique as any nebula.

Skon nodded. “I had anticipated that. Rest assured, I have spoken with Ambassador Shran and Ambassador V’Lar. As I mentioned, Prince Sopel is well known for his role in furthering Vulcan-Andorian communications. Ambassador Shran was co-operative in assuring his bride would have the ceremony that pleased her.”

“Well, in that case. . .” Archer said with a grin, “Why not? I’m sure a Vulcan wedding has to be fascinating.”

Skon paused only slightly. “You will not be permitted to attended the actual ceremony itself, Captain. You and your senior crew are invited to the wedding meal only.”

Archer frowned. Vulcan food. Great. “I see. I’m certain Hoshi and Malcolm will be delighted to attend, as well as myself.”

“You must also bring Commander Tucker,” Skon said immediately. “It is imperative that he be allowed to attend.”

Archer leaned in closer to the view screen. “I don’t think that will be appropriate, Captain Skon. Not only is Trip sick, but well, he . . . " Archer broke off, trying to figure out how to tell the other Captain that his engineer lusted after the science officer.

It turned out that he did not have to. “I am aware of Commander Tucker’s situation,” Skon answered. “As you are aware that it is a Vulcan ailment.”

“Are you saying that the cure for his disease is on your planet?” Archer demanded. This wasn’t the time for Vulcan word games. Not if it involved saving his friend’s life.

“It is not certain. However, I understand that Commander Tucker is not recuperating as was expected?” Skon commented.

Archer nodded, his head suddenly feeling ten times heavier. “He was doing well, and then his recovery just stopped. Phlox says so far he hasn’t shown any dramatic decreases, but he hasn’t gotten any better either. Phlox says if his condition doesn’t show some sign of improvement soon. . . “

“He will perish,” Skon finished. “I am aware of that. As is the Sub-Commander. She . . is quite determined to prevent that from happening, Captain.”

For some irrational reason, that made him feel better. But if T’Pol was so concerned about T’Pol’s well being, then why in the hell was she marrying some Vulcan? Well, not just any Vulcan. A *prince.*

“We’ll be there, Skon. Is there anything else?”

“Please bring Ambassador V’Lar with you. It would be wise to proceed with all due haste.”

Archer didn’t have to be told twice. In engineering, a very frustrated Lieutenant Hess wished for Commander Tucker’s presence yet again as she pushed for warp five.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

To Be Continued. . .

Continue to Part 33

Return to Part 31

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A handful of people have made comments

I keep waiting and waiting for that elusive ending. Now, I'm stuck wondering if it's going to be a happy ending, or bittersweet. Oh, but it's such a wonderful suspense. Thanks! :)

PS. Did I mention that I'm hoping for the happy ending? Somehow, I'm expecting Archer to finally let his ethics get in the way of Vulcan objections.

::crosses fingers:: Happy ending, happy ending!

Oh, the excitement, the anticipation! What to do, what to do!

Can't wait for more!

I'm so excited that the ending will be posted soon. This is such a fantastic and well-written story! Please let it be a happy ending!! :)

Sheesh...you sure know how to keep us on the edge of our collective seats! Thanks for the new chapters...I hope that happy ending that we're all looking forward to comes soon! :-)