41. Chapter 41 (1/2)
— chapter 41 —
"so," said erika, once she and t'pol had made their way from starfleet's hq building, "do you want to hit a coffee shop, t'pol? a double espresso and a caramel koala? my treat."
"as pleasant as that sounds, captain," said t'pol, "my current duties require that i return to the enterprise. may i take a rain-check?"
"of course," said erika. "it was good to see you again, t'pol."
"i feel the same, captain," said t'pol, and with that the vulcan made her way back to the enterprise, for she'd been shaken by what had occurred inside the conference room between herself, and her mate.
a few minutes delay in order to check that all was well on the
idge, where lt-commander reed had already taken the conn as acting captain, and then t'pol made way for her quarters. once there t'pol showered and slipped into her pajamas, lit a meditation candle, and then knelt in front of that archaic source of light, in order to focus within.
twenty minutes passed and yet t'pol had no success in reaching her desired mental state… too much had taken place in that conference room, and as a result of that fact, t'pol was subject to an inner turmoil which threatened her control. this turmoil would have to be dealt with… now.
after a few deep
eaths, t'pol initiated the patterns of a mental process, a type of cere
al meditation which could
ing clarity, if not peace, and with that, t'pol sunk within herself, and in doing so she returned to the conference room…
it was there that she'd first realized that she and captain tucker… no, trip, when she'd realized that she and trip were not just bonded, but were actually linked in a real time telepathic conversation of an abstract kind, and she'd been stunned, truly stunned. bonded vulcans often spent decades building on a bond in order to achieve such a thing. indeed a bond of such strength that it allowed telepathic communication was considered a rare and blessed thing, yet she and captain tucker had achieved that in a matter of months.
even more auspicious was the fact that the natural formation of a true bond, without the intervention of a psychic vulcan priest to link mind to mind, was considered highly unusual, almost blessed, for such a bond necessitated a strong connection from both prospective bondmates. yet she and captain tucker had achieved that as well.
gazing discreetly at her mate across the conference table, to the exclusion of all else in that room, t'pol had been overcome by euphoria at the thought of what they could achieve, what they would achieve, for she'd thought their union inevitable at that particular point in time.
however, during the transit back to the enterprise, the reality of what had truly occurred in that room intruded strongly upon t'pol's hopes for the future, for captain tucker's anger, his jealousy, and his instinctive disgust at the powerful vision he'd had of her copulating passionately with lt-commander reed had been followed shortly by an utterly chilling rejection of her presence in his mind, and that rejection had been followed in turn by an effective mind shield, instinctively raised, a shield which had forcefully denied t'pol access to her bondmate, through their link.
the real meaning of what she'd first perceived as a startling and wonderful show of her mate's strength now intruded painfully on t'pol's consciousness, for not only had her mate rejected her, but he'd been strong enough to willfully bar her from his mind, and most disagreeably of all, he'd done so with a cold indifference that was both shocking, and painful…
almost as bad were the images and the sensations he'd projected into her mind, images of 'that woman', that damnable t'fel! images and feelings full of tenderness and trust, attraction and passion, sensations which trumpeted that woman's importance to him! that was insufferable! trip was her bondmate!
the turmoil in t'pol's heart and mind was insupportable, and there was but one solution: she must withdraw from all external stimuli now, and examine the sequence of events with a proper detachment, as opposed to viewing these events through the lens of her own feelings and desires, for it was those very things, given the free rein they'd enjoyed up 'till now, which had led her to this desolation of the katra in which t'pol found herself now.
the thing must be done in order.
t'pol paused a moment, until quite certain that she had command of her memories; and then, scene by scene, she played them out, now watching from above with the cool, analytical calm that must be applied if she was to comprehend in what way she herself might have been responsible for her present plight.
so…
her physical condition – it had all begun with that. the responsibility for that, at least, was not hers. artificially induced or not, she could not fairly be held to account in any way for the fact that the pon'farr had increased her levels of sexual desire; and it was probably inevitable that she should have fixated on commander tucker as the natural object of her interest given the preexisting attraction between them both, an attraction which they'd both tried hard to deny at times, certainly when she'd first boarded the enterprise.
initially, she'd found her arousal, and the symptoms of that arousal, easy enough to contain. to be sure, commander tucker's departure from the ship just then had seemed inconvenient, but she'd thought that with the exercise of proper vulcan discipline she'd surely be able to keep her desires in check until his return. a month, after all, was not a lifetime, and t'pol had been certain that upon his return, the man would undoubtedly be eager to seize the chance to satisfy his own desires, and satisfy her own in the process.
remembering the version of herself which had accompanied trip to the waiting shuttle, t'pol felt the first stab of shame. she'd been so sure of herself, so confident of her ability to control the rising passion, so convinced of her own strength!
but in the end discipline had failed her, for her passions were too strong to be contained, and so, rationally, she'd made plans for satisfaction by going to captain archer. he was her superior officer, and starfleet regulations specifically forbade that the two of them should indulge in an intimate relationship, but she'd been quite certain that under the circumstances archer would ignore regulations and follow the promptings of his own sexual needs, and hers.
even then, she might have managed the situation in such a way as to allow her to salvage matters afterwards, but she'd stifled the soft-spoken voice of good sense which counseled her to be honest with archer, and she'd fed him half-truths instead. truth, certainly; her state was desperate, her needs real, and both she and archer had thoroughly enjoyed what followed. however, in her heart of hearts she'd known that he had given her more than his body. yet despite knowing this fact about the captain's feelings, she'd said nothing. her needs were paramount. he was providing what she needed, and archer's emotional needs had mattered nothing to her.
she had been disappointed in not feeling any of of the emotional connection that she had expected to have with commander tucker. she had instead given herself over to the physical gratification of her overwhelming need.
next, she had approached reed. she was already aware that reed found her desirable, and that fact, allied to her hunger, had enabled her to neatly ignore the fact that she was endangering his career as well by entering into a sexual liaison with him. she had cleverly played upon his sense of duty towards her, as a fellow officer and she'd relied upon his concern for her even if only as a friend, and she'd relied on his desires for her as a female. in retrospect, it had been quite easy to ensnare the man in short order, and she'd done so without qualms, and she'd done so while congratulating herself on her skill, even as she enjoyed the focused thrusts of his sexual desire, so different than, and so much more satisfying than the captain's.
how proudly she'd played them both, and how ruthlessly she'd enjoyed being the only one in the full knowledge of what was going on! how she had gloried in being the center of two very different men's desires, both of them doing their utmost to satisfy her while never dreaming that she saw herself as a goddess accepting the worship of those devotees she selected.
little men, she might have said, love me and despair! much as an old vulcan princess, lost in the power of the mating drive, she had regarded their service as her just due.
and then commander tucker had returned to the enterprise.
she'd been glad to see him back. of course she had! he'd always been her intended bedmate, and it was not long after his return that he assumed the place which she'd always designated for him. and he was such a
eath of fresh air, for he was not as awed by beauty as archer and thus he lacked the captain's timidity, nor was he was as driven as reed, and thus commander tucker took his time with her, and made a night of it each and every time, and what nights they were… oh, he was so different! he was special.
and even then – even then! – she could have snatched victory from the jaws of her own thoughtlessness. she could have listened to her heart and her body, for they were speaking to her, and plainly speaking truth; she could have recognized the man's uniqueness, his quality, his personal value. she could have recognized the risks that she was taking by making him simply the third of three fools who shared her bed, but she had not. even the realization that trip satisfied her to a degree which neither of the others could ever hope to accomplish, had not succeeded in piercing her arrogant vanity.