72. Chapter 72 (1/2)

— chapter 72 —

t'pol moaned softly, and opened her eyes. to her surprise, she found herself in a hospital room, clearly back on vulcan if the view outside her hospital room window was to be believed. that in itself was surprising, but more so was seeing t'fel approaching her bedside, a pleasant expression on her face.

"good morning, t'pol."

t'pol nodded, and said, "how long?"

"the fleet returned to vulcan three days ago, and we were all overcome with joy at its return, despite the numerous losses," said t'fel. "it was a properly controlled joy, but it was still a joyful occasion."

"how is trip?" said t'pol. "was he hurt by the romulan?"

"he is well, t'pol," said t'fel, sitting on t'pol's bed. "he's gone to pick up t'les. the old girl slipped and hurt her shoulder recently, and she can't drive well, so trip drives her around - he says that he's 'driving ms. daisy', whatever that means. they will be here soon enough."

t'pol nodded, and said, "if you intend to kill me now, t'fel, i must warn you that this hospital surely has cameras to monitor the comings and goings of its healers, its patients, and its visitors."

t'fel gave a slight chuckle at that, and t'pol clearly saw what trip found so attractive about t'fel - there was a sweetness in her, a lightness to her that was not typically vulcan, and it was captivating...

"hasha," thought t'pol, naming one of vulcan's old gods, "she's cast her spell on me now!"

"why would i kill my t'hy'la's mate, t'pol? that would be illogical."

"do not play games with me, t'fel," said t'pol. "you are more his mate than i."

"actually, upon your return, i've had a talk with trip," said t'fel.

t'pol heart raced at that… had t'fel truly done as trip had suggested, and released him willingly?

"i have convinced him that a vulcan bond deserves a proper chance, t'pol," said t'fel, and with that she wiped t'pol's cheeks: it was only then that t'pol realized that she was crying.

"and he agreed?" said t'pol.

"my logic was inescapable, t'pol," said t'fel.

"i do not want his grudging acceptance, t'fel," said t'pol.

"oh, stop with the histrionics, t'pol, you are a vulcan," said t'fel, smiling down on t'pol, and though her smile was slight, it was still an unusually demonstrative gesture, all things considered. "do not make a fool of me. you will take this chance which you have been given, you will grab it with both hands, and you will make something of it, you understand?"

t'pol nodded wearily, knowing that t'fel was right… she'd try, no matter what.

"still," said t'pol, "he must be disappointed to lose you. i could feel his pain and his distress at the mere thought of it, not long ago."

"i believe you will find that he has mellowed on that score, t'pol," said t'fel. "i spoke with him and i convinced him that our friendship and our affection would survive all this, and only grow with the passage of time. there need not be a severing, or a sense of loss between us. as for the sexual pleasure between trip and i, that could be replaced by a bondmate with a voracious sexual appetite, a desire to please, and a deviant mind. you do understand what i'm saying, t'pol…"

the look on t'fel's face was sweet and amusing, given her raunchy instructions, and t'pol gave a slight smile in return… the woman was suggesting she become trip's toy in the bedroom, a role for which t'pol hungered deeply, and one which, due the to bond's influence, would be a role of which she'd never tire.

"i do understand, t'fel, and i do not have enough words to thank you for this kindness."

"none are needed, t'pol. logic dictates that we try to resolve this situation with the least harm to all involved."

t'pol sighed, and said, "i have no siblings, t'fel, but i will love you like a sister from this day on, and if trip and i do not succeed in creating a proper bond, and if we sever our bond eventually, i will still treasure your gesture, and you, t'fel."

t'fel caressed t'pol's cheek with the back of her hand, scandalous as such intimate physical contact with a relative stranger might have seemed to t'pol just minutes earlier, before their talk, and just then trip and t'les entered the room.

5 years later...

trip lounged in his overstuffed beanbag chair in the multi-media room, his attention focused on the huge wall sized thin screen monitor which displayed a startling view, coming from los angeles. after two more major fleet battles between the federation and the romulans, the romulans had finally seen the light of reason, and seemingly abandoned their quest to subjugate the now thriving and expanded federation, which had added another eleven species to its roster in the past five years. now, some argued that the romulans were warring with the klingons and needed peace with the federation, while others argued that the romulans were surely expanding their empire in other directions, but most federation members didn't give a damn… that the romulans wanted a truce was enough.

a treaty was hammered out in relatively short order, for the romulans wanted nothing from the federation save the establishment of a neutral zone between the federation and the star empire and the lines of that neutral zone were established fairly quickly, in a matter of weeks. the only matter still unresolved was the withdrawal of the imperial marines and shrikes still left on earth and vulcan, after all this time, after all this bloodshed.

the matter seemed easily handled for a large troop carrier arrived in earth's orbit, and vulcan's, at the same time, with each romulan ship

oadcasting orders from the current consul, t'riett, to assemble at a given coordinate set for withdrawal, and that's when things got sticky. the humans expected these imperial soldiers on earth to surrender their weapons and make their way to los angeles as civilians, where they'd board the numerous shuttles waiting to take them up to their ship, but the romulans would have none of it. imperial soldiers would walk out with their weapons, or they would remain at their post, running their missions to the last man.

no one in earth's government had the stomach for any more bloodshed, hell they didn't even know how many imperials were left on earth, so after three days of public announcements asking the people of earth to allow these soldiers to pass unmolested with their weapons, the imperial soldiers made way for los angeles.

it was a surreal sight to human eyes, to see fully armed and armored imperial soldiers riding subway cars, trains, and planes, to share space with hard faced, cold eyed, contemptuous imperial soldiers who looked through the human filth around them with perfect arrogance... and although there was a great deal of hatred for these soldiers, no one was stupid enough to instigate any trouble with them, given the weapons plainly carried, and the amply proven willingness of imperial soldiers to rock and roll on a dime, and turn any engagement into a bloodbath in which the humans inevitably suffered casualties all out of proportion with romulan losses.

at the end of it all, of some 5,000 imperial soldiers originally deployed on earth, only 300 showed up at the final muster… the rest had died performing their duty as they saw it, more than half of them in the last few days when they'd pushed hard regardless of the cost, in order to create chaos on earth in preparation for the conquest of earth by the 8th romulan fleet.

even now, at the last, more blood was shed, for as they passed through a line of earthgov's soldiers guarding the romulan shuttles, an earthgov marine who'd lost two

others to the romulans, suddenly drew a knife and tried to kill the nearest romulan soldier passing by his position… in return, his knife hand was immobilized, even as romulan and human soldiers raised weapons on each other, and in that disciplined silence which waited only for an order to begin the killing, the imperial shrike

oke the human's neck, then dropped him disdainfully to the ground.

"not good enough," said the shrike, stomping the marine's face with steel clad boot, and collapsing the man's face.

an undercurrent of rage went through the human soldiers, and time seemingly froze... the killing was about to start.

"lower your weapons!" said the earthgov general in charge of the human troops. "now!"

reluctantly, the human soldiers obeyed their orders, even as the general approached the shrike who'd killed that soldier.

"we'll meet again, shithead," said general hoskins.