A to Z – the final blogging frontier…
Captain’s Log: April 21, 2016
These are the fan fiction voyages of the starship Enterprise (NX-01), the first Warp Five capable Terran craft. Humans are now able to explore strange new worlds, seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go….
I don’t own Enterprise or her crew. No monetary profit is gained from these stories. I just want to share my passion for these characters and their world.
T‘Pol and Trip are back from bereavement leave after the death of their infant daughter. But something is different between them…rated PG-13 for mention of addiction.
Jonathan Archer rose nervously as the chronometer hit 1900 hours, and the imminent arrival of his guests. He hadn’t seen them since the memorial service for their infant daughter, Elizabeth. They’d gotten back from Vulcan very late last night, and Jon hadn’t heard from either of them until he messaged to issue his not-quite-an-order to join him for dinner.
They’d been in rough shape at the memorial. Trip didn’t even try to hide his tears. T’Pol didn’t cry, of course; but her Vulcan control looked like it was on the edge of shattering. She stood there beside Trip, ramrod-stiff, hardly even blinking. Jon wasn’t sure she heard a word of what was said; she looked numb.
He hadn’t been able to get the image of her out of his mind, since. He wanted to hug her, protect her from anything that could make her look like that, when, less than a month before, she’d been trying her hand at humor – clumsily, maybe, but still, it had seemed like she’d finally come to terms with the permanent changes her trellium addiction had caused. And Trip was coming home to Enterprise, and they were headed back to Earth for the conference that would make the Alliance real, and all had seemed right once they got rid of those Orion women.
And then, Susan Khouri had staggered into the conference, pressed that vial of hair into T’Pol’s hands, and changed everything.
The door whooshed open, and Jon turned to watch as T’Pol stepped in, with Trip just behind her. She was delicately lovely, swathed in her Vulcan robes. The bones of her face were more prominent, and her eyes wide and liquid, but surrounded by shadows. Anyone who knew her could see she was still hurting; probably not eating, sleeping, or meditating as much as she needed to heal.
She stopped just inside the doorway, as though uncertain what to do next.
“Come on in,” Jon suggested softly.
“I think she needs a minute to adjust, Cap’n.” Trip was also in Vulcan robes, maybe the same ones he’d worn at the service. They complemented his hair and fair skin perfectly, and made him look dignified and older, a little like some of T’Pol’s control was rubbing off on him.
He bent to whisper something into a beautiful pointed ear, then, at T’Pol’s faint suggestion of a nod, stepped up beside her and offered her an arm. T’Pol placed her hand in the crook of his elbow, and there was a metallic glint before her sleeve fell over it.
Trip glided her to her seat, pulled out her chair, and helped her into it. T’Pol looked like she was on autopilot, but when Trip started to step away, she grabbed his arm tightly enough to make him wince.
“Don’t go!” That brittle explosion said more than any words could. She was still on the edge of shattering.
For an added treat, visit other blogs on the #atozchallenge roster. There is a huge diversity to choose from, and I think that’s something T’Pol would find most agreeable, indeed.