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Consequences-Part 36

Author - Samantha Quinn
Fan Fiction Main Page | Stories sorted by title, author, genre, and rating

Consequences

By Samantha Quinn

Rating: PG-13
Disclaimers in Chapter One

Chapter 36

And the Itsy Bitsy Spider Crawled Up the Spout Again


This chapter is fondly dedicated to K.Phillips, for all the fun visuals of Vulcan bondage and smug Vulcans.

A/N: Yep, it’s almost done. Sorry it took so long, but I was struggling with characterization through the entire thing. Well, mainly Archer’s characterization. Grr. Thanks to Sandy for reminding me how fluid his characterization IS. ;)

**************

. . . And the Itsy Bitsy Spider Crawled Up The Spout Again. . .


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

“Captain Skon,” Sumarek greeted. The Vulcan Archer assumed to be Koss stood quietly behind Sumarek. Whether it was out of deference or something else-remorse?-Archer did not know. Nor did he particularly care at the moment.

“Excuse me, but since we all know each other by name now, do you think we could get down to helping Trip?” Archer demanded.

Skon realized that the human Captain had no idea of the gravity of the situation. Archer had no way of knowing how they intended to cure Commander Tucker. Even if he did know, the human could not have any inkling of the impropriety involved in speaking of it in front of Sumarek, head of Vulcan Justice Department.

“I appreciate your desire for haste, Captain Archer,” Skon stated. “Once I attend to the presence of Sumarek and Koss, we shall focus on Commander Tucker. In the meantime-"

“I don’t think you understand the need for haste at all,” Archer retorted. “Trip is dying-“

“I am aware of the severity of the situation, Captain,” Skon replied. Inwardly, the Vulcan lamented that his attempt to pacify the human had been unsuccessful.

“Captain Archer is quite correct, Skon,” Sumarek interrupted. “Commander Tucker is obviously ill, judging from his unconscious state. It would appear that he requires medical attention immediately.”

“Then perhaps your visit should be postponed,” Skon offered.

Sumarek shook his head. “No, I do not believe so. According to what Koss has told me regarding how you intend to treat Commander Tucker’s condition, my presence as head of Vulcan Security Council is absolutely essential.”

Skon tilted his head and straightened his back. The patented Vulcan anger look, definitely. Archer wondered momentarily why these people even bothered to pretend they didn’t have emotions. The reason for Skon’s outrage became quite clear when the Vulcan spoke again, “A spy.”

Skon’s voice did not change in tone. Regardless, his intended venom was quite clear. His accusation was directed towards Koss and was a statement, with no pretense of needing an answer.

“What exactly do you plan on doing to Trip that would call for the Security Council to be involved?” Archer demanded.

It was Sumarek who answered. “A custom with which you have been exposed before, Captain. You do recall the situation with Tolaris, do you not?”

Ignoring the confused looks upon his crew’s faces, Archer nodded. “Tolaris’ presence caused a lot of . . . discomfort for T’Pol. But what does Tolaris have to do with Trip?”

“He personally has nothing to do with Commander Tucker,” Sumarek responded. “You recall the process of melding, Captain?”

“Yes, but-“

“That is how Skon intends to treat your Commander Tucker’s illness,” Sumarek finished.

“But the melding-it made T’Pol sick,” Archer protested.

“It is exceedingly unlikely that your Commander Tucker shall suffer from the same illness,” Skon answered. “Pa’Nar Syndrome affects specific targets in the Vulcan neurology, which differs fundamentally from the human counterpart.”

“If the procedure is safe, then why is a representative of the Security Council present?” Malcolm demanded, momentarily forgetting the chain of command. Archer didn’t mind-it was a very reasonable question after all. Even if the Captain did already have a sneaking suspicion.

“Melding is not an activity approved of by Vulcan society at large,” Sumarek answered. “Safety level is not the chief concern.”

“As I recall,” Archer responded, “your chief concerns involved stigmatizing members of your own species out of bigotry and intolerance.”

“Captain.” Phlox’s voice was low. Archer knew it was meant to be a warning. Not necessarily a challenge to his command. More of a warning to remind the Captain that he was behaving in a manner that was far from diplomatic.

However, diplomacy was far from the foremost concern on Archer’s mind. Ignoring Phlox, he continued, directing his words towards Sumarek. “I know you think humans are inferior-"

“On the contrary, Captain, I have given you no indication of how I regard humans,” Sumarek stated calmly.

The Vulcan’s calmness only provided further irritation to Archer. “Most of your species regards us as inferior,” he continued impatiently. “And you may very well believe that too. But our inferior species rid itself of such bigotry and prejudice decades ago.”

“Your dealings with Vulcans have not always demonstrated your lack of prejudice, Captain,” Sumarek answered. Again, he was calm.

“Maybe not,” Archer conceded. “But if I had the capability to save the life of one of your people, I would never even think to withhold the cure because of petty intolerance.”

“You mistake my intention, Captain Archer,” Sumarek replied, ever tranquil. “I have no plans to prevent the melding from taking place.”

Archer was surprised, to say the least. Skon spoke for him, “If you do not plan to prevent the melding, why are you here?”

“Since the Sub-Commander’s incident with Yuris, there has been much . . . discussion concerning melds, as you are aware, Skon. Since then we have been attempting to gain as much information on the activity as possible,” Sumarek informed him.

“Through the usage of spies?” Skon questioned.

“The presence of Koss was indeed part of the mission,” Sumarek answered deftly. “In fact, it is because of Koss’ testimony concerning the medical benefits of Sopel’s meld on Sub-Commander T’Pol that I am here tonight.”

“Then you shall permit the activity to take place?” Skon questioned, lifting his left eyebrow in the only demonstration of surprise his people would have found acceptable.

Sumarek nodded. “I shall be a spectator. If the meld is as successful with Commander Tucker as it was with Sub-Commander T’Pol-"

“Hold on-" Archer interrupted. “What do you mean by ‘if’? You aren’t certain?”

“The melding process is not one that is fully understood by our people, Captain,” Skon began.

“I won’t allow Trip to become a guinea pig,” Archer stated stubbornly.

Skon started to reply, but he was promptly interrupted by the sound of Commander Tucker stirring on the stretcher. The sounds coming from the engineer’s mouth made it clear the man was in a considerable amount of pain. Fortunately, Phlox had come prepared and quickly came to Trip’s side, scanning him with a tricorder. T’Lal came quickly to his side and surveyed the results. “He has entered the plak tow,” she informed the humans. “The blood fever. You may have ethical dilemmas involved in the usage of melding, but if you continue to do nothing, Commander Tucker shall die.”

Archer glanced down at his friend, and watched with horror as his blue eyes flew open and rolled back into his head. Skon, seeing his concern, added, “I would estimate that your Commander has less than two hours of his life left at this rate, Captain. I recommend we proceed with all due haste.”

Archer nodded reluctantly. “Fine. Do whatever it takes to save him,” he said softly.

Silently, Skon motioned them into his home. Once inside, they were greeted by T’Pol, T’Lara, and T’Pau. T’Pol’s eyes fell immediately upon Koss. “I have heard of your betrayal, Koss,” she said. “While I do not have the time now to discuss it, I am certain you are not so different from your parents after all.”

“Wow,” Travis whispered to Hoshi, “How did they hear us when they were inside and we were outside?”

T’Pol looked at the young Ensign as she replied, “As someone once told me, Ensign, I have very good ears. Captain Archer, please know that I have every intention of doing my best to save Commander Tucker’s life. However, you should be aware that forty percent of Vulcan males who reach the plak tow status do not survive.”

Archer stared at her for a moment, fighting to keep control. Finally, he said, “I know you will, T’Pol. But maybe you should get started?”

“Indeed,” T’Pol answered. “I would normally be able to lift the Commander myself. However, my own illness prevents that. I require assistance.”

Before anyone else could volunteer, T’Lal bent over and gently picked up Commander Tucker effortlessly. T’Lara motioned for T’Lal to follow her as she lead the science officer and Commander Tucker to the guest bedroom.

Archer had forgotten entirely that T’Pol was ill. With news of the wedding, Archer believed that T’Pol had been healed. “T’Pol, what about your illness?” he asked. “Are you-"

“If Commander Tucker survives, then I shall as well,” T’Pol answered cryptically.

That didn’t reassure Archer, but all he could do was nod as T’Pol turned to walk in the direction that T’Lal, T’Lara, and Commander Tucker had gone.

It was at that precise moment that the sound was first heard. Archer couldn’t place it, exactly. It sounded slightly like someone pounding on a drum, he thought. From behind him, he heard Malcolm grumble, “Who’s banging a bloody gong?”

T’Pol’s back stiffened and she stopped, momentarily. She looked as though she were going to continue, when Skon placed a hand on her shoulder. Archer was amazed. From everything he knew, Vulcans didn’t touch each other-ever.

“T’Pol, you must complete the ceremony,” Skon said quietly.

“I will not,” she answered defiantly. “He intends to take me off world following the ceremony. I will not allow it. Commander Tucker will die if I do.”

“You have no choice,” Koss stated. “This is not an equivalent of our betrothal, T’Pol. You must marry Sopel.”

“Is that the reason for your betrayal, Koss?” T’Pol demanded. “Revenge for my choosing the Enterprise over you? How very emotional of you.”

Koss wisely chose not to point out that she herself was behaving in quite an emotional fashion. She had more than sufficient cause, he supposed. “No,” he answered, “this is not about revenge, T’Pol.”

The Vulcans were speaking quietly, but not quietly enough to escape detection by the humans-and Denobulan- who remained in the room with them. T’Pol’s crewmates watched the scene in awe-when had T’Pol been engaged to this Koss fellow? When had she chosen to stay on their ship instead of marrying him? And why didn’t any of them know about it? Archer, who liked to think he knew a great deal of her secrets, was even surprised.

“I will not do this. Commander Tucker needs me,” T’Pol stated firmly.

“You do not have a choice, T’Pol,” Skon informed her kindly.

“Actually she does,” T’Lal stated, re-appearing behind T’Pol. “Perhaps it is because of your sex that you have forgotten the option of the koon-ut-kalifee.

Archer turned a questioning look towards Hoshi, who looked thoughtful, but could only shrug.

“I cannot chose Commander Tucker for the ritual,” T’Pol answered. “He is too ill. He is barely conscious.”

“I am aware of that. I would not suggest Commander Tucker even if he were ill. While he is no doubt strong, even the strongest human male is only half as strong as a Vulcan male. To win the koon-ut-kalifee, one would need to be more cunning and resourceful in their fighting habits. In addition, if your choice was the correct one, he could release you as Sopel refuses to do.”

“That is true,” T’Pol conceded.

Koss spoke up. “I would be honored to assist you, T’Pol.”

“I do not trust you,” she answered.

“It is not wise to trust a spy,” T’Lal agreed. When Koss looked as though he would protest, T’Lal ignored him and continued, “However, I believe your Lieutenant Reed would be capable and willing.”

Malcolm perked up at the mention of his name, although he had been following the conversation intently. T’Pol looked thoughtful but finally beckoned him to follow her.

“Where are they going?” Archer asked, as his science officer and armory officer disappeared into a room and the door slid shut.

“I believe the Sub-Commander is making certain Lieutenant Reed understands the ritual she is about to ask him to undertake,” T’Lal answered.

“And what ritual is that?” Hoshi piqued up. “For some reason, I can’t figure out the translation. It’s Vulcan, but it sounds like a different form.”

“It is ancient Vulcan,” Skon answered. “It can roughly be translated to ‘the challenge.’”

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

Malcolm took in his surroundings and shook his head. They were in a loo**. There was humor in the situation, the Englishman knew, but the grim scenario was leaving little leeway for laughter. He looked forward to being able to share with Commander Tucker the fact that he had been in a Vulcan toilet, discussing T’Pol’s wedding rituals while Trip lay ill in the next room. Malcolm could only hope that Trip would live long enough to hear the story.

“Well, Sub-Commander,” Malcolm said with feigned cheer, “what is the koon-ut-kalifee and why are we discussing it in the loo?”

“As you are most likely aware, Lieutenant, I am betrothed.” Malcolm nodded, and she continued. “The ‘gong’ as you described it, was the sound of my betrothed calling me to his ritual wedding grounds. However, the Vulcan I am to marry wishes to take me off world as soon as the ceremony occurs.”

“But you have to perform the meld with Trip,” Malcolm protested.

T’Pol nodded. “Yes, I must. However, according to Vulcan rituals, the only way I can call off the marriage is through the kalifee, which can roughly be translated to ‘the challenge.’”

“What’s involved in this challenge?” Malcolm questioned.

“While I cannot reject my betrothed myself, I can chose another male as my champion. The confrontation will take the form of battle,” T’Pol stated.

“You wish for me to be the champion,” Malcolm surmised.

T’Pol nodded. “Before you answer, you should be aware that it is a battle to the death.”

“But if I refuse, then both you and Trip shall die, correct?” Malcolm asked.

“Yes,” T’Pol answered. There was no way she could bond with Sopel if he kept her from Commander Tucker.

Malcolm demonstrated no hesitation in his answer. “The Captain, Trip, and Travis are explorers, Sub-Commander. They are on the Enterprise for the thrill of ‘boldly going where no man has gone before.’ You and Hoshi are scientists-on the Enterprise to ‘seek out new civilizations.’ I am neither.”

“How do you classify yourself?” T’Pol wondered.

“I am a soldier. All soldiers are taught to kill. We hope we do not have to, but we do not hesitate when our men are under attack. Your betrothed threatens the lives of two of the Enterprise’s crew. I will end that threat, by any means necessary. It is my duty.”

As they rose, T’Pol reminded him, “Sopel shall consider it his duty to kill as well.”

“If he is successful, the Captain has been appraised of my funeral preferences,” Malcolm answered seriously. As an afterthought, he added, “He’s not going to be pleased with this arrangement, Sub-Commander.”

“I shall take care of it, Lieutenant,” she answered.

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

When Malcolm and T’Pol exited the Vulcan restroom, she immediately turned her attention to Captain Archer. “I must contend with Sopel at the present. Lieutenant Reed is going to assist me. I will do my best to return before the two hours has passed. In case that does not occur, perhaps you would prefer to stay with Commander Tucker.”

Archer didn’t protest, but simply nodded. “I don’t know what’s involved in this challenge, T’Pol, but I know both your life and Trip’s depends on it. Please hurry back. The Enterprise-and I-need you both.”

T’Pol turned to Hoshi. “I suggest you come as well, Ensign.” She did not say why, and Hoshi didn’t dare question.

The three Enterprise crew members lined up behind T’Lara and Sumarek. T’Pol turned “Let us go. I find the clamor of the ‘gong’ to be quite irritating on the auditory senses.” With that, the wedding party left.

Travis whistled softly. “I don’t think I liked the secrecy of that last exchange between the Sub-Commander and Lieutenant Reed,” he remarked.

Phlox clicked his tongue. “It’s best not to dwell on concepts we are incapable of understanding, Ensign. Now, perhaps we should make use of our time and comfort Commander Tucker in the Sub-Commander’s absence?”

“Come,” Skon announced, “I shall lead the way.”

After Skon, Archer, Travis and Phlox had disappeared into the back bedroom, T’Pau turned to V’Lar and raised a disapproving eyebrow. “T’Pol brings many outworlders to our sacred ceremonies. I do not know why T’Lara permits it.”

V’Lar shook her head. “The outworlders are directly involved, T’Pau. We could not exclude them when they are so affected by our actions.”

T’Pau raised her other eyebrow and responded, “Perhaps. If it were left to my discretion, I would never permit outworlders to partake in the kalifee.

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

After meeting the rest of the wedding party-consisting mostly of guards, but containing musicians as well-T’Lara, Sumarek, and the three Enterprise crew members arrived on the wedding grounds.

T’Lara would be officiating the ceremony and she presently took her seat behind an alter that presumably had been structured for just such an event. T’Pol and Sumarek stood an either side of her while Hoshi and Malcolm stood directly behind T’Pol. Hoshi waited nervously, as she was not yet certain exactly what this “challenge” would involve.

She was fairly certain, however, that she would not like it. She tried to shake off the bleak feeling, but found that she could not. *Maybe it has something to do with the guards,* Hoshi contemplated. Vulcans could look pretty intimidating by themselves but the Vulcans at this ceremony took the intimidation to an entirely new level. The ten guards were decked in silver tops and black bottoms with a green sash tied around their waists. Their faces were adorned with black masks which revealed only their eyes and a minute portion of their cheeks. To Hoshi, the said masks reminded her of nineteenth century executioner hoods in the American West. *That’s ridiculous,* she chided herself. *Vulcans are pacifists. Of course, those weapons they’re holding aren’t doing much for their pacifist nature.*

But surely, those weapons were part of the ritual alone. In a Vulcan wedding, weapons which could clearly mortally wound another would have no practical purpose. Hoshi shivered involuntarily and decided to focus her attention on the attire of T’Lara and T’Pol. Interestingly, T’Pol still wore the brown uniform she wore on the Enterprise. *A sign of defiance for a wedding she doesn’t want?* Hoshi pondered. T’Lara, on the other hand, looked positively regal in comparison in her flowing white robes.

While Hoshi surveyed the wedding party, Malcolm was sizing up his competition. He assumed T’Pol’s betrothed to be the Vulcan walking towards T’Pol with his brows furrowed. Malcolm recalled reading that Vulcans were approximately twice as strong on average than the typical human. In addition, this one seemed to be a good deal taller than Malcolm. T’Lal’s words rang gently in his ears: “to win the koon-ut-kalifee, one would need to be more cunning and resourceful in their fighting habits.” *That is fortunate, for I would surely fail in a test of brute strength,* Malcolm decided silently.

Presently, T’Pol’s betrothed stopped in front of her. “You presume to bring humans our ceremony?” he demanded of T’Pol. To the said humans, it sounded suspiciously as though he were angry.

T’Pol, for her part, was calm. “I have brought my wedding party, as have you,” she remarked, glancing behind Sopel to his two companions. Only one she recognized-Tos, her father’s assistant. The irony of his presence was not lost upon T’Pol.

Naturally, it was Tos that spoke. “We are not human.”

“That much is obvious,” T’Pol answered.

Sopel took a step closer to T’Pol, but was blocked by one of the guards. Stepping backwards, he cautioned, “The humans’ presence denigrates my family by mocking their marital lands. They will be removed.”

“I have requested their presence in accordance to my right as dictated by tradition. Do you seek to remove that right and thereby further challenge tradition, as you have by revoking my right to a wedding meal, Sopel?” T’Pol questioned.

There was the briefest of pauses before Sopel spoke again. “No, of course not, T’Pol,” he finally answered. “Tradition is very important to me, as you are aware. Which is the reason I cancelled your wedding meal. I do want us to begin our traditional year together immediately.”

T’Pol held his gaze steadily. “Your logic is flawed. The meal is tradition as well. Regardless, if you desire such haste, then perhaps it would be wise for you to begin the ceremony.” Inwardly, she willed him to hurry. A half an hour had passed since they had departed Skon’s home-which meant Commander Tucker had only an hour and a half of life left.

“Ponfo mirann,” Sopel answered. “It is going to be a very interesting year, T’Pol.” With that, he turned and began to walk towards the emerald diamond with the intent to strike it.

Malcolm turned to Hoshi and whispered softly, “What does ponfo mirann mean?”

Hoshi flushed, remembering a time she had behaved not so professionally and snapped the same phrase to T’Pol. “It can roughly be translated to mean, ‘fuck you,’” she informed Malcolm, hoping he didn’t remember the exchange.

“That doesn’t seem like an overly kind thing to say to your wife-to-be,” he murmured.

“No, but Sopel doesn’t seem overly kind, either,” Hoshi answered.

Malcolm and Hoshi’s conversation was interrupted by the sound of T’Pol crying out, “Kal-I-fee!” The Enterprise’s former science officer stood in front of Sopel, with her hand outstretched in a perpendicular line to the green diamond.

T’Lara spoke next. “T’Pol, you have chosen the kal-i-fee; the challenge. Are you prepared to become the property of the victor?"

"I am prepared."

"Sopel, do you accept challenge according to our laws and customs?"

“I have no alternative, T’Lara,” Sopel answered. “It is her right. By tradition.” The distain was clear.

"T'Pol, choose your champion."

At T’Lara’s order, T’Pol slowly descended the platform and began to make her way back to where Malcolm and Hoshi stood. She began to speak:

"As it was in the dawn of our days . . . ."

T’Pol did not allow herself to think of anything outside of the sound of her voice and the sound of the Vulcan chimes being played by members of her wedding party. To allow her mind to wander and cause a collapse would not be productive.

" . . . as it will be for all tomorrows . . . "

Hoshi watched with growing fear as T’Pol came closer. She was beginning to connect what had been said in the home of Skon and what T’Lara had said to T’Pol.

" . . . I make my choice.” Reaching the end of her speech, T’Pol lifted her hand and pointed to Malcolm. “I chose Lieutenant Reed.”

“Lieutenant Reed, do you accept?” T’Lara questioned.

Malcolm nodded.

“Very well. We shall begin the challenge with the lirpa,” T’Lara stated. As she spoke, one Vulcan came forth to wrap a purple sash around Sopel’s waist. Malcolm wondered momentarily if he was going to receive one, and hoped it wouldn’t be purple.

He did not receive a sash. However, he did receive a lirpa. Quite an interesting weapon, in his estimation. One end could be used for cutting the opponent, while the blunt end was designed to for striking purposes.

“If both survive this round, we shall move on to the ahn-woon,” T’Lara stated.

Hoshi turned to T’Pol frantically. “What does she mean, if they both survive?”

“It is a challenge to the death,” T’Pol answered.

“No!” Hoshi couldn’t help but exclaim. “Malcolm, you can’t! You aren’t Vulcan. He’ll. . .kill you.”

“With your shield or on it,” Malcolm answered in reply.

“Oh, you aren’t a Spartan!” Hoshi snapped.

“No, I am not. I am a Starfleet officer,” Malcolm responded.

“You aren’t obligated by duty to participate in this challenge!” Hoshi retorted.

Malcolm gave a half quirk of a smile. “I am obligated by friendship,” he answered.

Hoshi fell silent. He had reminded her what was at stake, and she could find no protest. *But, oh, be careful,* she prayed inwardly.

Sensing their conversation to be over, T’Lara signaled for the ceremony to begin.

“A human,” Sopel mocked. “This shall require no exertion on my behalf.”

*Good. Stay cocky. It will provide a considerable tactical advantage,* Malcolm thought to himself as he jumped out of the way of the blunt end of the lirpa.

Sopel was an efficient fighter as well. He easily dodged Malcolm’s attempt to strike him with the lirpa.

Sopel and Malcolm danced around each other, both avoiding the other’s advances for several minutes. They circled the emerald diamond twice when Malcolm realized it was time for a different tactic. *I can’t survive much more of this. We aren’t fighting on Earth and I can barely breathe in this climate.*

Malcolm took a deep gasp of air, trying in vain to fill his lungs.

“You should not have come to our planet, human. You are not even fit to breathe the air,” Sopel mocked. Sopel aimed the blunt end of the lirpa towards Malcolm’s midsection, and the lieutenant hesitated long enough for it to make contact.

Malcolm laid sprawled on his back on the hot desert sand with the lirpa several paces out of reach. The sharp end of Sopel’s lirpa was directly over Malcolm’s head when the lieutenant’s hands made contact with Sopel’s knees. The force of Sopel leaning towards Malcolm enabled Reed to propel Sopel-and his lirpa-over Malcolm’s body and out of harm’s way.

Malcolm scrambled to get his lirpa and finish the task, but he found there to be no need. Sopel had landed on top of his own weapon and his green blood flooded the brown sand beneath him.

Still gasping for air, Malcolm silently gave thanks to T’Pol for teaching him that move only a week and a half earlier. He was also relieved that he himself would not have to drive the spear into the Vulcan.

T’Lara, descended from her seat and came to investigate Sopel’s body. “He lives still,” she said. “However, he has clearly lost the battle.” Motioning to Tos, she instructed for the prince to be taken to a healer.

“Regardless, you have won, Lieutenant Reed. T’Pol is now yours,” T’Lara stated.

“No,” Malcolm shook his head. “I do not want. . . I release her,” he said formally, hoping that T’Lal’s comments had given him some clue as to how to properly release the Sub-Commander.

T’Lara’s approval came in the form of a nod. “Then you are the property of no one, T’Pol. Neither Sopel nor Lieutenant Reed have any claim upon you.”

“We must return to your home,” T’Pol answered.

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

“Where are they?” Archer demanded helplessly a half an hour later as Trip convulsed on the bed. He was in restraints-supposedly for his own good, Phlox had said. But the convulsions grew more violent with each progressive second. And the cries of agony-long having lost any semblance of thought other than to express his discomfort- that came forth from Trip grew louder, more frequent, and more painful for Archer to listen to. Only he, Koss, Phlox, and Skon remained in the room. Travis simply couldn’t bear to watch Trip deteriorate any further. The Ensign had decided to join V’Lar and T’Pau.

“Come on, Trip,” Archer said softly, “You have to hold in there. T’Pol’s coming back. She’ll help you, Trip. She has too.”

Trip’s only reply was a blood curling scream which ended in a sob.

Archer found his own eyes welling with tears. “You can make it, Trip. Remember that time we went horseback riding in Montana and you broke were thrown? You didn’t think you would make it-remember? But I knew you could and we made it back just fine.” Sniffing back his tears, Archer continued, “And Lizzie made us both the blueberry cobbler she’s ever made, she felt so bad for you.”

Trip’s whole body fell silent and Archer turned to Skon with impatience, “Why can’t any of the rest of you do this meld? Why does it have to be T’Pol?”

“Our minds are not free to give,” Skon answered.

“What the hell does that mean?” Archer demanded.

“The point is moot, as I am here now,” T’Pol’s voice came from the door. Behind her stood Sumarek.

“T’Pol! Thank God,” Archer exclaimed.

“Yes, I am here. It would be wise of you to wait, Captain, with the rest of the crew,” T’Pol informed him.

“But-"

“In addition to melding, we shall have to copulate. Unless Commander Tucker has a penchant for exhibitionism, I believe he would prefer as few witnesses as possible,” T’Pol informed him.

Archer nodded his approval and turned to leave. Seeing that he was going alone, he asked, “Are you all going to stay?”

Sumarek answered, “Koss and myself must stay to observe the meld. After it is complete, we shall exit.”

“I too must stay to offer assistance to T’Pol with the meld, if she requires any,” Skon told him.

“But surely, Phlox-“

“I would prefer Phlox to stay, Captain,” Sumarek stated. “If the meld is successful, I will need a medical doctor’s proof of the change in condition.”

Not wanting to dwell on the possibility that the meld could be unsuccessful, Archer turned to walk out the door. Heading into the main room of the house, he heard a very familiar voice ask, “Why has the traditional meal been cancelled? And where is my daughter?”

Archer clenched his fists at the sound of Soval’s voice.

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

To Be Continued. . . .

Please review!

** To my fellow Americans/non-British: “Loo and Toliet” are the English equivalent for restroom.

**To any British reader: I apologize if they aren’t supposed to be intermingled . However, my sole English buddy does, so I did. He’s a bit weird, though. But, I just didn’t want to have Malcolm calling it a “bathroom.” It didn’t feel right.


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Seven people have made comments

That made my morning. I really do like how you handled Archer. He can be so many different people all at once, but I guess that usually comes with command.

I look forward to reading more.

I just wanted to add that this is the first piece of T/T fanfic that I've ever read (well, I've read plenty of others waiting for this one to be finished) but I'm simply dying to find out how it ends. Thanks for making such a great first impression :)

Excellent, but oh how am I going to hang on until the next part? And trust Soval to turn up NOW! Very well done, talk about a rollercoaster and poor Trip! Loved Malcolm not thinking twice about the challenge to try to save his friends. Many thanks for another great chapter, Ali D :~)

I'm wondering how you're going to make your goal of having the story finished by September 10th, or is there a big huge ending that's gonna get released for us tomorrow?

Wonderful chapter.

So, yet another human to beat a Vulcan in Koon-ut-kalifee. How delightful.

So, another cliffhanger, of a sort. But Soval, ah Soval. What a glorious time for him to show up. Ha ha.

Great job, as usual. Lt. Brugman has a point though, what ever happened to finishing the story before the Enterprise season premiere?

Can't wait for more!

The story is finished. I post the stories elsewhere and Bucky lifts them from that site to copy here. So you guys have to wait on Bucky. ;)

But I WAS finished on time. In fact, I even finished a day early. The good-or bad, depending on how you look at it- news is you'll get two more chapters and an epilogue.

Damn, why'd you tell me that. I'm always in a rush in the morning as it is, and now I'm going to stop to check here in the morning and read the rest of the story. Damn. I'll have to set my alarm half an hour early, hehe. Seriously though, thanks for this wonderful tale!