Chapter 9
“We can look over those letters each on our own I think. It would be less awkward.” said Shran as he patted Soval’s skin dry and waited for T’Pol to pick something out from the pile of baby clothes that resided in his home. She was taking her sweet time doing so.
“Perhaps that would be best, it is… difficult to read such things when we are not intimate.” Shran nodded but otherwise said nothing, having suddenly been robbed of his voice at the very idea of being intimate with T’Pol. She finally chose a simple, plain red outfit that Thy'lek grimaced at, and returned his voice,
“I told Lissiel to throw that out.”
“You do not approve of it?”
“I hate it. My grandmother picked it out and gave it to Erib when he was Soval’s age. He was just so… red! He looked ridiculous.”
“Perhaps you should choose then, if you do not approve of my choice.”
“I don’t understand why you chose the ugliest thing in there.”
“It seemed the most practical piece of clothing.”
“Babies don’t care about practicality and when it comes to that shirt and trousers neither do I. Here, hold him while I pick something out.” He gave Soval to his mother and rooted through the box, pulling out exactly what he wanted, which was a blue silk shirt with icy blue trousers of the same material. “Much better.” he declared and held the items out. T’Pol took them, however in doing so her fingers brushed his and he jerked his hand away as a jolt of electricity shot up his spine. She reacted in kind and he could have sworn her cheeks went green in a blush like his were going blue. She busied herself with dressing Soval, who fussed under the ministrations. “Talk to him while you do it, it’ll keep him distracted.”
“Very well, you seem to know exactly what to do.” she said, with badly suppressed bitterness.
“Hey, I grew up learning how to care for children as it was expected of me. And I learned by watching my parents and adult relations. The only real way to learn to care for a child is to have a real child and to watch how to do it with a person who does in fact know more than you.” he snapped, his antenna rearing back and he jabbed himself in the chest as he spoke. She narrowed her eyes at him in what seemed to be irritation,
“One must also learn through trial and error.”
“Well fine, but for the record I was only trying to help. But if you think you can handle it all then fine, go ahead.” He stormed out of the playroom and into the kitchen. He found the half empty bottle of Penainan juice and poured as much as he could into a glass without making a mess. As he downed the drink, which helped him feel calmer, he tried to ignore Soval crying, disturbed by their raised voices. He could hear T’Pol speaking softly to him, but the baby wouldn’t quiet, in fact the pitch of the cries intensified. Shran groaned and rubbed his temples willing away the oncoming headache. He really wanted his siblings home, if only to have someone to offer unwanted advice, but they were both at work.
Work. He couldn’t believe it but he missed working with Ambassadors Soval and Gral. With just his son, and his admittedly confused feelings about T’Pol, to occupy his thoughts he felt like he was going to go stir crazy. This was where Lissiel was useful. If he could pick a fight with her at least he’d be distracted.
Shran suddenly wished to be in space again, on a ship, in space and to be able to stare out at the stars. This inevitably made him think of the Kumari. Of his crew. Of Talas.
His shining gleaming Kumari.
His loyal, strong, loving crew.
His beautiful, vivacious, dangerous Talas.
Shran’s antennas drooped completely as he once again was hit with a great force of pain as he remembered that they were all gone. Not that he ever forgot, but there were times when he just couldn’t believe it and then it would hit him and knock all the strength out of his body.
Shran walked across the main room and stared at the painting of the Kumari, surrounded by a colourful nebula. Senkrad had spent weeks perfecting it, only just getting it done in time for his 43rd birthday. He’d loved it at once, it captured the grace and beauty of both space and ship. Next to it on the shelf was a thick book. Reaching out he pulled it into his arms, letting it rest on one forearm while his free hand opened it.
Inside were pictures, images taken with an imaging device, what humans would call a camera. The first one was of himself, with Keval, Thon and Tholos. Their body language was one of protectiveness for each other, each turned towards the others, defensive from attack, but their faces were alight with smiles as they joked and talked. They were all in their mid twenties. Best friends, an unstoppable force, brothers.
At least they were still alive; he’d have lost his mind, his life if they’d died. Tholos had come too close. Lissiel had been the one to ensure he was all right once they got home. Having a sister who was a physiotherapist had definite perks.
He flicked through the book, smiling sadly at the pictures of his old crew, some working at their stations, or celebrating a birthday or birth in a family. Then he paused at one. It was a high angled shot, looking down on 86 people, himself included. They were dressed in the tight leather of the Imperial Guard and standing at ease, confident smirks on their faces. That was four years ago. He was in the foreground, as Commanding Officer. His 1st lieutenant, Tarah, stood beside him, towering over him, something that had entertained the crew no end when the two had argued. What Thy'lek lacked in height, he made up for with sheer hot headedness.
Thon was on his other side, with that look on his face that made Thy'lek wonder just what he was doing in the Guard. That look was completely innocent. Tholos and Keval were next to Thon. On the outer edge of the foreground was Talas. He hadn’t known her that well back then, he’d had to maintain a certain level of distance from the lower ranking officers. Then her overture had changed that quite a bit.
The door of the playroom opened as he was thinking about this and T’Pol came out, Soval crying in her arms. He was dressed but clearly unhappy. T’Pol was bouncing him in her arms and looked like she was determined to get him to stop herself. Thy'lek watched her, keeping his face as bored as he could, waiting. Finally she said,
“What is the matter with him?”
“We upset him, he wants what he wanted before. Something neither of us has any intention or desire to do. So I’m afraid we’ll just have to figure a way to distract him.”
“How?”
“It’s fairly easy to distract a normal child, so Soval shouldn’t be much harder.”
“Are you calling him abnormal?”
“No. I’m talking about children bonded to their parents, something Soval doesn’t have.”
“We are forming one with him are we not?”
“T’Pol, it’s been two days! Give him a chance. He’s been carted around like a bag from one universe to another and a ship to a city and back again. Babies his age need familiarity, regularity, sometimes to the point of compulsion. My niece Avena, when she was one, had to be taken around a room counter-clockwise ten times, then once clockwise before she’d go to sleep. If you went out of pattern she’d go mad.”
“So, we need to establish a more stable environment for him?”
“Well that would certainly help him. But for now lets just try to make him stop crying!” He held his hands out and T’Pol passed the baby to him. He bounced Soval in his arms and when that didn’t help he decided to try his never-fail tactic.
Slightly embarrassed because T’Pol was watching him intently, he held Soval so his lips were pressed to the downy head, just above a pointed ear. He began to hum softly, an old tune his father had sung when he himself was as small as Soval. His father, for all the wonderful man he’d been, had been tone deaf and Thy'lek was quite glad he had inherited his mother’s good voice, although she’d rarely, if ever, sung. He remembered mostly how often she’d lectured him to not do things that looked like fun. Of course he remembered her with love, but his mother had been oddly quiet for a female. She’d been strong, dominant, beautiful and clever, but not one for idle chat. When he was little and learning to talk, he could remember how he’d been confused and a little hurt that his mother had never responded to him, or at least… that was how it had seemed to him.
(Flashback)
“Papa!” Thy'lek cried, banging his hand on the low table as he did. His mother, Mama, looked at him sharply in surprise. She’d been staring at a padd, but the two year old couldn’t understand how staring at something for so long could be fun. “Papa!” he repeated, giving his mother a demanding look. He was hungry and she wasn’t getting him anything to change that. Pouting his little lip he walked unsteadily over to Mama and pulled at her skirt. “Papa!”
“Papa is not here Thy'lek, now be quiet.” she said, her hand reaching out and petting him on the head fondly. Thy'lek was confused, his stomach was growling at him, and Mama said there was nothing here to do something about it. That didn’t make sense to him. Whenever his siblings cried “Papa.” their stomachs were filled. Why not him? He sat on his nappied bum with a thump and pouted, his hands clutching his feet. He suddenly wanted a better look at his feet and lifted them towards his face. He was quite surprised when he toppled backwards.
Mama looked up again and she got to her feet. Thy'lek giggled and pulled at his feet as his legs kicked out. He liked that. Mama knelt beside him and her blue eyes looked him over and he stared back with a half-toothy, half-gummy smile. She smiled at him slightly and then scooped him up in her arms. He was held against her firm body and he squirmed, upset at having lost grip on his feet. He could see his limb of desire but an arm was in the way. He gave in and let Mama carry him into the room food came from. Now things were improving. He leaned against her arms and stretched out, trying to reach the door that would lead to food. “Papa!” he said insistently, pointing at the door.
“He’s not in there Thy'lek.” she said bluntly, “There’s just food.”
“FOOD!” he cried in delight. That was the word his siblings also used when they wanted to fill their stomachs. “Food! Food!” he wriggled and tried to get at the door. Unfortunately, he managed to jerk too hard and he toppled from Mama’s arms. He hit the ground with a thump and began to bawl his eyes out. Mama knelt beside him and took him into her arms again. He just cried, waiting for the words of comfort that were sure to come, but none did. Mama just held him. Mama was very quiet.
(End Flashback)
Soval began to quiet as Thy'lek sang softly in his ear, the tune making him sleepy. Finally he was gone to the field of dreams and Thy'lek fell quiet. He then glanced embarrassedly at T’Pol who seemed impressed.
“You have an appealing voice.” she said, and he blushed (he hated it when he blushed!) muttering,
“Thanks.”
“Do you sing often?”
“Not as much as I did as an adolescent, I sang all the time then, played music too. My family expected me to become a professional singer and musician. You can imagine their shock when I told them I was going to join the Guard.”
“Why did you wish to join if your talent lay in music?” Thy'lek debated how to answer that. Humans had a saying, ‘Honesty is the best policy’. Andorians said ‘Honesty will grant you honour and most likely a good few bruises’. He doubted T’Pol would actually hit him, and he could fight back, but there was Soval to think of. If he was honest, T’Pol might not let him see him again, and Thy'lek still had no idea what the lawful side of things were because Sanakral was taking his sweet time! When speed was the necessity never count on San. Finally he said,
“I joined because I wanted to. I wanted to be a solider. I wanted to live up to my oldest brother, to honour his name.”
“Your brother is no longer alive?”
“No. He was killed in a battle with your people.” T’Pol seemed startled but then she recovered,
“I regret that such a thing occurred.” Thy'lek nodded, fighting the old grief, mingling with newer grief, pushing it down as far as he could. “How old were you when he passed on?”
“I was ten. I can remember it quiet clearly.” Indeed he could, he’d been playing with his friends on the ice rink, and had just shown off an impressive (to them) trick and then it had felt like someone had cut off a part of his brain. He’d sat down on the ice hard, completely stunned, and he’d called to his family through the bond. They’d all responded, except for Tren. Tren hadn’t answered and Thy'lek couldn’t sense him at all. He’d burst into tears over something he couldn’t quite understand and couldn’t remember anything after that, except that he was at home and his whole family were in agony.
He shuddered in remembrance and Soval snuffled in his sleep. His little antennas stroked Thy'lek’s neck as they moved and he smiled sadly as he stared down at him. T’Pol stared at him silently and then she said,
“Perhaps remembering is a good thing. It shows how much he meant to you.” Thy'lek nodded, not bothering to tell her that he’d idolised Trenach, worshiped the ground his brother had walked on. T’Pol then said something he wasn’t completely sure he heard right, “If Soval requires a stable environment, perhaps he should stay here tonight, he is already asleep and I would not wish him to be disturbed.” He looked at her in surprise.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I believe you should spend time with him on your own. It would be best if you did so that you can form a proper bond with him.” His grin shone out for all to see as he nodded.
“Sure. I’ll be happy to have him. My siblings too.” She nodded, and then stepped closer and rested her hand on Soval’s back. Thy'lek shifted, his antennas flying forwards sharply so that they nearly brushed her hair. She regarded Soval for a few minutes as if she was drinking him in, and then stepped back. “I’ll take good care of him.” he promised.
“I know.” she said softly, meeting his eyes with an odd look in hers, “I should go.” He nodded and he showed her to the door. She took one more look at Soval and her hand touched his as she walked past. Both of them froze and locked their eyes in surprise. Then T’Pol walked away hurriedly. Thy'lek closed the door and leaned his back against it, trying to wrap his head around what he’d sensed from her when their skin had touched. Desire?
The house was quiet and there was an air of contentment throughout it. Senkrad however couldn’t sleep. He was itching to do some painting, but he had no idea of what. He’d already done a good few sketches of Soval, and a few of the baby and his father as they played, but he had an urge to actually do something that didn’t take fifteen minutes. He groaned and got out of his bed, setting Fuzzy aside, wondering briefly why he was still sleeping with the toy in his bed. He’d lied when he told Thy'lek he’d had a nightmare and that was why he’d been in the bed. Truth was, he’d been sleeping with his old stuffed animal since Thy'lek had come home. He didn’t want to dwell on why right now though.
Walking out to the main room Senkrad stopped short in surprise at what he saw. Thy'lek, in his sleeping clothes, was splayed out over the couch, sound asleep and Soval was lying on his chest. The baby was faintly rising and falling as Thy'lek breathed in and out. Senkrad smiled.
Thy'lek was a natural father but he never seemed to have much luck in finding someone to be with. Most of the time it was because Thy'lek didn’t want to share so much of himself with another person. He was extremely self-protective. He’d been hurt too many times so he preferred to stay closed to those he met. Senkrad wished he’d find someone, he’d seen how happy being with Talas had made him. All his smiles had reached his eyes and lit them up, but not anymore. Few smiles were smiles for himself these days, most were for the benefit of others. Although… Senkrad looked at Soval and smiled even wider.
The baby seemed to really bring out the old Thy'lek, the mischievous one who smiled all the time and didn’t seem to have any cares. The Thy'lek before he joined the Imperial Guard. Sometimes Senkrad could still hear the argument his baby brother had had with their parents when he’d announced his choice ringing in his ears.
Neither his Mama or Papa had been pleased when the 17 year old had told them he was going to join the guard. They’d lost one child in the Guard and despite the fact that being in the guard was a great honour and social standing, they didn’t want another in it. Their Papa, Belden Shran had been serving in the Guard since he’d been 19 and he didn’t want his son, his youngest and, in many ways, most innocent son doing the things he himself did.
(Flashback)
“NO, NO, NO!” Keyas, their Mama shouted loudly. Senkrad winced, he hated when his mother raised her voice, since it was so rare, it meant she was really angry. “You are not joining the Imperial Guard! You’re going to the Art Academy with your brother to study music.”
“But that’s not what I want!” Thy'lek shouted, “I want to join the Guard.”
“No you don’t!” Keyas snarled, her cheeks a deep blue in fury, “You want to kill Vulcans, that’s the only reason you want to join. You want to get back at them for killing Trenach.”
“So what if that is the reason? I’m joining and you can’t stop me!” Thy'lek made for the door and Belden grabbed him and pulled him back,
“Don’t you walk out that door!” he snapped, gripping Thy'lek’s arm tightly. Senkrad’s eyes widened, his father rarely raised his voice, or was forceful with his children. He looked at Lissiel who was watching through the slightly open door beside him, and then up to see Sanakral and Sakrana, leaning over him, all their antennas were quivering.
Meanwhile Thy'lek glared at his Papa spitefully.
“You're just afraid I’ll do better than you. How many years has it been Papa? Since you were last promoted? How often have you been passed over for someone else?”
“Don’t you speak to your father like that!” Keyas snapped, “How dare you! You’ve no idea what you're doing.”
“Once you join the Guard you can’t go back Thy'lek. It’s not all glory they make it out to be. It can be horrible, in fact often it is in times like these.” Thy'lek paused and seemed to be listening. Belden let go of his arm and took his chin into his hand to make his youngest look at him. “You don’t know what it’s like to kill people, you’ve never killed anything. It’s not as easy as pulling a trigger and it’s over. It’s being able to put out of your mind that whoever you’re killing has a family like you do, maybe has children.”
“I can do that.” Thy'lek said, and he sounded convinced that he could. Belden shook his head.
“Thy'lek you're too passionate, you’re immersed in life in a way that would make it too hard to do the things you need to do. You see power and you see beauty in everything. Do you really think that you could destroy that power and beauty with your own hands?” Thy'lek shifted and his eyes dropped to the ground. Senkrad smiled slightly, confident that his father had gotten through to him. Thy'lek pulled away and walked towards the door, then looked back,
“If I see power and beauty in everything, then out of destruction of something should come forth equally beautiful.” Keyas and Belden’s antennas fell, they knew they’d lost. Thy'lek pulled the door open and walked out.
(End Flashback)
His eyes suddenly landed on a padd loosely held in Thy'lek’s hand, it looked like it was about to fall. Not wanting any noise to disturb the peaceful scene, he quickly and silently took it out of his hand. He was about to switch it off when a sentence caught his eye. He read it more carefully thinking it was a book Thy'lek had been reading and his eyes widened in amazement. Then he grinned.
‘I think I’ve found my painting.’
They walked side by side through the Forge, neither speaking, but they didn’t need to. She turned her face upwards and let the sun shine on it fully. He reached out and took her hand, entwining their fingers. She turned to him and he smiled at her. Her fingers tightened their hold on his and they continued walking. Presently they came to a boarder where, quite suddenly, the sand stopped and ice stretched out before them. They stepped onto the ice and kept walking. Then abruptly they were in her mother’s house on Vulcan.
He let her hand go and walked into a room, as if he knew the house, as if he lived there. That was entirely normal, of course he knew the house. She followed him after removing her outer robe and putting it away. He stood by an intricate, beautiful crib and he was smiling down at the contents. She walked over and stood beside him and his arm went around her waist, holding her close. She looked at his face and then down at the baby in the cribs. She was sleeping, her near green skin and blonde hair depicting perfection. Her antennas danced as she dreamed.
“She’s beautiful.” he murmured, reaching up and running his finger over the point of T’Pol’s ear, making her shiver. She turned to him and kissed him.
“She is.”
“As beautiful as her mother.” he added as he pulled T’Pol closer and kissed her hungrily, sending sparks through her body. As they pulled apart he took her hand again and they went to Soval’s room and peeked in at their 3 year old son, who was sleeping soundly in his bed. As they shut the door he caught her mouth in another hungry kiss, gently pressing her against the door as he ravished her mouth. She held his head in her hands and pulled the both of them to their own bedroom.
She worked on his shirt and soon had it off, while he was pulling at her robes, taking care not to tear them. As they lay on the bed he kissed his way down her neck and she ran her hands over his blue skin. She gasped suddenly and her mouth found his and she pushed him under her as she explored his mouth with her own. He gripped her upper arms tightly and kissed her back.
“Ashaya.” he groaned as she pulled away and disposed of her remaining clothing. They kissed hungrily again and electricity was flying up and down her body, making her shake and pant.
“Thy'lek!”
T'Pol woke up with a jolt, sitting up and looking around to see where she was. Her quarters on Enterprise, exactly where she’d fallen asleep. She was alone. She drew in a deep breath and climbed out of her bed and quickly lit her meditation candles and knelt on the mat. She closed her eyes and began to meditate, trying to understand the dream. It wasn’t possible that she was beginning to be attracted to Shran. It just wasn’t possible. It was just an illogical reaction to the fact that Shran was the father of her son, and she’d been reading the letters, which had been describing more deep love and a description of the garden in the other T’Pol’s mind. That had been the cause of her dream. Nothing more. She didn’t dwell on the fact that she was not meant to dream, since she’d meditated before going to bed.
She felt a strange tug and realised that it was Trip. He was asleep and dreaming she guessed, as that was the most often time when she felt such pulls. He seemed to be enjoying his dream if what she sensed was any indication. She quickly put up her mental barriers, she needed to be able to sleep undisturbed. Still, the hardest thing to put out of her mind was how much she’d enjoyed the dream.