Chapter 11
Thy’lek stared out the window, watching the stars whizzing by, his hands around a cup of nearly cold, untouched camomile tea. He didn’t even drink the stuff, but T’Pol had often told him it was soothing so he’d thought he’d give it a try. Now though he didn’t think he could stomach it. He looked away from the stars and down at his hands that were clutching the mug. He shivered suddenly and looked around the mess hall. It was devoid of all life except himself and he felt so alone all of a sudden. He had no connection with his sister, and he had trouble reaching T’Pol and Soval too. He’d never felt so alone in all his life. The only time he could think of that was like this was when he was eighteen and had just arrived on the Avenger.
(Flashback)
Thy’lek shifted where he stood, waiting for his new commander to arrive along with five other new arrivals, two Terrans, a Vulcan and two Orions. He looked from one face to the other without moving his head hoping to find someone he could become friends with. He saw nothing with all five. Suddenly the door opened and he quickly straightened his back more.
“Well, what do we have here?” asked a tall man, with many medals pinned to his uniform as he entered with an entourage. He had blue eyes and chestnut brown hair, with a small goatee of the same colour. He did not look like someone who would be crossed. “Two lieutenant commanders,” One of the Terrans and one of the Orions, “two lieutenants, “The other Orion and the Vulcan, “and an ensign.” He chuckled as he looked Thy'lek over. “A very short ensign at that.” The Terrans all chuckled, while Thy'lek stared at the wall, “Tell me your name ensign.”
“Thy'lek Shran sir.”
“Thy’lek Shran…” he repeated softly, nodding. “Well Ensign Shran, I assume you’re here to assist in kitchen.” The captain laughed, his eyes glinting coldly. Thy'lek shook his head,
“No sir, I was assigned to engineering.”
“Oh where you now?”
“Yes sir.”
“I thought I was getting a lieutenant for my engines.” The captain raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t know anything about that sir; all I know are my orders.”
“Which were?”
“To work in engineering on the I.S.S Avenger.” For a brief moment Thy'lek looked into the captain’s eyes and then quickly looked away.
“How old are you ensign?”
“Eighteen sir.”
“A child!” laughed another Terran, “He can't possibly be the engineer we requested.”
“And yet here he is.” The captain said softly, walking around Thy'lek who felt his stomach jump in nervousness. He wanted to say that he was indeed an engineer that knew what he was doing. He’d been the best in his class, gotten the highest marks, but unless he was asked, he wasn’t able to say so. “Lieutenant Soval!” The Vulcan that had accompanied the captain stepped forward, his hands behind his back.
“Yes Captain Black?”
“Until I’ve had a word with Starfleet about this child, he can be your assistant. Just keep him out of trouble.”
“And if he fusses, just give him a bottle.” laughed the other Terran.
“Enough Commander. The rest of you follow Commander Aafjes and he’ll assign you to your duties. Quarters will be assigned later. Lieutenant Soval, take Ensign Shran with you.”
“Yes sir.” Lieutenant Soval nodded, and he looked at Thy'lek who looked away sharply. He felt so angry, he was not a child! He glared at the floor while the others all filed out. Once the door shut Lieutenant Soval spoke,
“You may relax now, they are gone.” Thy'lek obeyed to the military rule, assuming the ‘at ease’ position. “My name is Soval.”
“Thy'lek Shran.” Still Thy'lek looked at the ground.
“I would prefer it if you looked at me.” Soval said blandly. Slowly Thy'lek looked up and met the Vulcan's eyes. “Better.” he nodded, “You should consider yourself lucky.”
“How so?”
“The captain isn’t overly fond of Andorians, at least for personal use, otherwise you might have found yourself being his personal assistant instead of my professional one.” The word professional had an odd effect on him, he felt relieved because it meant there was no chance, not that there had been much of one before considering this man’s species, that he’d be pulled into a bed against his will, but he also felt sad because it was clear he would not make friends with this Vulcan.
“Lucky me.” he said dryly. Then he said before he could stop himself, “I’m a good engineer, regardless of my age. I was the best in my class.”
“I’m sure you were, and in fact I’m positive that Captain Black knows that. However he likes to pick one new arrival to humiliate and he’ll either pick the youngest or the most skilled, and you unfortunately are both, as well as being Andorian. As Terrans say, you did not stand a chance.” Thy'lek bowed his head again. Just his luck. “Come, I shall show you around and then take you to the mess hall, for it is nearly time for lunch.” He looked up almost shyly again at the Vulcan, and for a single second the dark eyes seemed to twinkle at him in friendship. He couldn’t help but let a smile form on his lips. Things suddenly looked a little better.
(End Flashback)
Thy'lek frowned as he stared into his mug, through the murky brown depths. He wondered what T’Pol was doing right now?
“Oh Spirits what am I doing?” he asked aloud, he wasn’t even gone two hours and already he was wondering what his wife was doing. “What the hell am I doing? Why am I here? I should have sent Telev- no scratch that, Telev has no patience for Klingons- Sten! I should have sent Sten out here. He’d be well able to negotiate with the Klingons, spirits know I’m not fit to do it. Not after what happened, oh Lissiel, if only you could see me now, I’m really loosing my mind, I mean I’m… I’m talking to a mug of brown water!” He shoved the mug away sharply and it nearly tipped over. He looked out the window again and he closed his eyes, breathing out his frustrations like he’d been shown by T’Pol.
‘Breath out the anger, breath in the calm.’
His face relaxed marginally and he felt a bit better. Until he let himself actually think about the situation and then there was a dull thud as he let his mutated forehead hit the table.
He.
Was.
Such.
An.
IDIOT!!
What the hell was he doing here? He’d just abandoned his wife, his pregnant wife, and his five month old son for an obvious trap. What kind of husband and father was he? Certainly not one worthy of Andorian blood. A man’s duty was to his family. Tradition was that Andorian men were meant to stay at home and do the housework, take the main hand in raising the children, care for the pregnant wife. Women on Andoria did most of the outdoor work, they were stronger than men. It didn’t matter that T’Pol was Vulcan, the rules still applied. There was an old joke on Andoria, ‘As long as the woman can pin the man to the ground the rules apply, no matter the species.’
Well, T’Pol could certainly pin him down, pregnant or not, if she had a mind to, although unless the situation was one of a more… interesting nature, he’d put up one hell of a fight. An Andorian does not surrender. So why was he just sitting there heading into a trap? He jumped to his feet and pressed the comm. button on the wall.
“Shran to bridge.”
“Go ahead?”
“Bring us about. I’m afraid we must cancel our dinner date with the Klingons.”
“Yes sir.” He could almost hear the smile in the woman’s voice
“I never liked gagh anyway.” He muttered to himself. He hoped he wasn’t too late to go back, but if he was… well at least he’d done what he could for his boy.
T’Pol sat at her consol on the bridge, going over details of their plan once again. She knew the odds were 50:50 that this would work and she wanted to ensure they, as humans would say, ‘Got as good as they could’. She was fine-tuning a minor point when the door of the lift hissed open. She looked up to see her counterpart enter the bridge. She would admit to feeling surprise at the sight of her, she hadn’t laid eyes on her in several days and given the rumours she’d heard she’d assumed that she’d be with her husband.
‘Perhaps Shran has recovered.’
“Hello T’Pol.” she greeted blandly as she always made sure her voice was. Her counterpart nodded to her,
“I have come to see if you wished to look over the plan again.”
“I have just been doing so, I do not believe we can improve on the details any more.” she responded. T’Pol nodded, and T’Pol could tell she was disappointed. Perhaps she wanted a distraction, to take her mind off something unpleasant. “However perhaps a fresh pair of eyes will be able to do more.” T’Pol nodded in what may have been gratitude. “We can work in the science room.”
“That is agreeable.” She stood up and they both re-entered the lift. As they went down T’Pol felt compelled to engage her counterpart in conversation.
“I have heard rumours that your husband is ill. If so I hope he recovers.” T’Pol shifted and said softly
“The rumours were true to a point. Thy'lek collapsed from the severing of his telepathic bond with his sister when she was killed.” She drew in a deep breath, “He was out of bed the next day… he’s not here any more.”
“What do you mean?” T’Pol couldn’t imagine where the Andorian could have gone, leaving his wife behind, only a moment in their presence had shown her the depth of their connection.
“…We received a message from the Klingons claiming they want an alliance with us, however they would only speak with Thy'lek, face to face and he’s now on his way to meet them.”
“That is a fortunate thing is it not? The Klingons will no doubt be powerful allies.”
“I believe it is a trap, we’ve already determined that the Tholians are working against us with the Terrans and you are part of that attack.”
“We are?” She twitched an eyebrow and stared at the face that was so like her own and yet… so much more expressive. Her eyes were shining, as if she was constantly fighting tears and she looked very tired. Her hand continuously rubbed her stomach though she was unaware of her actions.
“You were brought here to distract us, distract Thy'lek, he’s the leader and he has final say in many things. The Terrans knew he’d attempt to help you, which meant he’d most likely forget about other things.” She stared at her for many moments and then said simply
“I am sorry.”
“It was not your doing, you are as much puppets in this as we are.” The door opened and T’Pol lead the way to the science room. As they sat down to begin their work T’Pol said softly, “He was the one I needed that night.”
“I beg your pardon?” She looked up and said
“When I entered my Pon Farr I didn’t want anyone but him, I only wanted Thy'lek that first night, and for the duration of it he was all I ever wanted. I believe I may have… come to love him before I even entered my cycle.”
“I have only entered Pon Farr once, and that was not a natural experience. Yet you have entered it naturally, I wonder how, especially since there is only two years of a difference between us. Was it your attraction to him that triggered it?” T’Pol stayed quiet for some time and T’Pol was beginning to think she wasn’t going to answer.
“When one is unbonded and has a sexual relationship with someone outside of the cycle it can disrupt it. If it were an emotion I would be ashamed to speak of this.” Despite her words T’Pol could see she was indeed ashamed about it. “When I was very young, in my twenty-second year, I had a sexual encounter with someone, and the experience triggered the beginnings of my Pon Farr, but not for another year. Since then, every seven years, I have gone through it.” T’Pol’s eyes were fixed on the consol as she spoke and her fingers gripped the PADD tightly. T’Pol spoke quietly
“I did not know that was possible.”
“I believe that since your Vulcan is free and of its own that it is uncommon to have relations outside of the cycle. No doubt it is considered distasteful to do so and therefore kept quiet. In a universe where Terrans rule, it is common for both genders of Vulcan to have their cycle interrupted, so it is common knowledge.”
“Does the cycle always become disrupted?”
“Not always, some don’t seem to have that issue. Why do you ask?” She had been honest with her; she ought to do the same.
“I had a relationship with someone and I wonder if it will trigger the cycle.”
“When did you have this relationship?”
“Approximately a year and a half ago.”
“Hmm… you said you went through the cycle but it was not of natural means.”
“Correct and I was unable to… procure a mate. A treatment cancelled the effects. That was before I had a relationship.”
“Perhaps that disrupted the cycle in a different manner; perhaps it has been reset if you will, so that you will go into it every seven years thence. You may enter the cycle again in five years.”
“Less more than likely. Thank you for the warning.”
“Of course, thank you for not being offended by my honesty and openness.”
“Not at all.” She considered the conversation and decided it was a good thing she’d been so open about her concerns. They would have bothered her otherwise. They worked out the final touches of the plan and then T’Pol asked her if she wanted to join her for dinner. She agreed. They went to the mess hall, it was busy at this time, and many people stared at them in wonder as they got their food and sat down.
“Do they make you uncomfortable?”
“I am fine. I’d rather curious stares than any other kind of stare.” she answered calmly, beginning to eat her salad. They ate and conversed softly, and eventually T’Pol asked
“Forgive me for being curious, but who did you have a relationship with?” T’Pol hesitated and then answered
“Commander Tucker.” There was a faint look of surprise on her otherwise blank face.
“I see.”
“He is nothing like the Tucker you once knew.”
“I believe you, I’m more surprised because I also had an encounter with Commander Tucker, although it was out of necessity rather than any attraction.”
“Pon Farr?”
“Yes. He made sure never to let me forget it either.” The pregnant Vulcan sipped her tea and her eyes wandered to stare out the window. The planet was visible from their position and she viewed it thoughtfully.
“Ironic, isn’t it, the place where the main Resistance base lies looks almost like Earth.”
“It is somewhat ironic.” she agreed, “How is your son?” the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the child on that planet that was of her blood. Maybe not really but she couldn’t help but think of him like that.
“He longs for his father, Thy'lek plays with him and can make him smile far more than I.”
“I’m sure he will return soon.”
“I… hope so.” she said it so softly it was almost impossible to hear. T’Pol stared at her thoughtfully and wondered just what her thoughts were. Suddenly T’Pol stood up and walked towards the window, halting a few feet away. She widened her eyes and clutched her stomach. There was a look of absolute fear and horror on her face and she whirled around to stare at T’Pol for a moment and then she screamed. “THY’LEK!”
She collapsed to the ground and her whole body began to convulse. The guards were at her side in an instant. T’Pol jumped to her feet and rushed over. Her counterpart’s eyes were rolling around and she screamed again, her whole body jerked and aquamarine blood began to pour from her body. At once T’Pol knew the unborn child was dead. Tears poured down the other’s cheeks and she screamed for her husband again.
“Get away! Get away!” an Andorian guard shouted at the gathered people. Suddenly T’Pol stiffened, her whole body seeming to rise of the ground and then it went limp. She wasn’t breathing! T’Pol knelt down and took her hand, it was lifeless in her grasp. She realised with un-suppressible horror that the woman was dead. The aquamarine blood that poured from her body travelled along the floor, spreading in all directions. The silence was deafening as they all absorbed this. The Resistance guards looked like their world had been turned upside down.
“They’re both dead.” gasped the Andorian, tears in his eyes. Both?
“No, no he can't be!” exclaimed an Orion. He?
“Well why else would this have happened!?” the Andorian screamed in distress. “You saw it! She’s dead! So is Shran!” T’Pol looked up in shock, what was he talking about? She still clutched the cooling hand of her counterpart, whose face was contorted in agony and filled with grief. The tears were drying on the skin, marking their tracks. The hair was splayed out dramatically and the eyes were staring at the ceiling. Slowly, reluctantly, she reached out and closed them softly. She fought the feelings welling up within her and quickly imagined her white logic covering the black emotions. It helped somewhat and she felt herself relax slightly. The door to the mess opened and Captain Archer, Doctor Phlox and Gral entered the room. Phlox pushed his way through the shocked crowd and paused at the sight before him. He then knelt down and began to scan her body, no doubt to determine what had killed her. Gral groaned and teetered where he stood and Captain Archer put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.
“Thy'lek!” he moaned loudly sounding grief stricken. T’Pol was beginning to wonder why they kept speaking of Shran when it was his wife that was dead. She looked back at Phlox, who said softly,
“Neurological shock, and complete system failure. Even if I’d gotten here sooner I wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”
“What caused it?” asked Archer softly
“What do you think?” shrieked the Andorian who’d spoken before. “Our leader, Thy'lek Shran is dead! That’s what caused it!” Archer looked at T’Pol for an explanation, but she stared back un-answering. She didn’t have an explanation.
“I don’t understand.”
“Andorian mates will follow each other everywhere, even into death.” said Gral softly “If one is killed the bond being severed between them will kill the one who isn’t dead already. Something went wrong with the Klingons, if it was even really the Klingons. Thy'lek must have been killed and his wife followed him like she knew she would.” T’Pol looked down at the woman she knelt beside and felt strange respect within her blooming for this woman. She’d known that this could happen if she married Shran and yet she still did it. She swallowed hard and stood up.
“We should move her.”
“Agreed. We’ll do it.” Gral seemed detached and slightly off kilter. He was in shock T’Pol realised. At once several guards walked away, one asking Archer where a stretcher and sheets could be found. They all avoided looking at her. No doubt it was too hard to see her because of her resemblance to the other T’Pol. Archer, after telling them where to find the items, beckoned her and she slowly followed him. When they were out of earshot Archer spoke quietly.
“Gral came to tell us that the sector of space we need to go to is clear now. We can leave.” he was quiet and almost sounded regretful.
“You do not sound pleased.”
“I should be but now I can't be, Shran and T’Pol are dead, the Resistance will go to pieces I think, they relied on Shran too much. I don’t feel right just leaving like this.”
“But what could we do to assist them?” she asked logically. He shook his head,
“I don’t know, but I just don’t feel right about leaving them now.”
“You are affected quite deeply by these deaths?” She wasn’t quite sure why this seemed strange to her.
“I barely knew them, either of them, but… I just grew to like them. Shran was… he was such a thoughtful person and he was so… sad and determined, so strong. And she, to marry him even with that sort of risk, God!” he gasped, looking lost. She made a hesitant suggestion
“Perhaps the sector will remain deserted for a long enough time so that we may pay final respects.”
“Yeah, maybe, it’ll happen soon I think, they wouldn’t waste too much time.” She nodded and then her whole form stiffened, and her eyes widened by a fraction. “What is it?” he asked in concern. She looked at him and half gasped,
“What about their son?”