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Fan Fiction: T'Pela - Chapters One & Two
artgravity
Member Posts: 18 Arc User
T'Pela: Chapter One – Tears of a Vulcan
Notes to Readers:
This story is written in the universe of Star Trek Online. It will reference several things from the game as well as the multiple Star Trek series. If you have not played the game then this is a spoiler alert.
This writing will describe some events from the game so that those not familiar with the game may not be totally lost.
---
Captain's Log (append date) Seal for Temporal Operatives Only.
Well, I am dead. The battle of Caleb IV was a defeat for the Federation. However, it did allow them to discover the Klingon's acquirement of cloaking devices. In the process, however, the U.S.S. Surak was lost with all hands. At least, that is how the history books are written. We were not lost though. A temporal agent named Daniels brought myself, my ship, and my crew to the 25th century.
Most of the crew have left now, and I have a full crew of new people. Only my Andorian friend, Lt. Tarsi has stayed with me on my new ship, the Rhode Island class, U.S.S. Antillies. Apparently it was named after a fictional character, a pilot of incredible skill.
I know that Daniels told me to forgo my past. The old T'Pela is dead. But I am she. In my mind, I still feel the link with my husband, Solek. Parted from me and never parted. Never and always, touching and touched. I must know if he still lives.
I will have the opportunity to find out. After having saved the S.S. Azura, we have been assigned a mission to ferry an ambassador from Vulcan to P'Jem. We proceed at maximum warp so we may arrive ahead of time, to give me a few extra hours.
End Log.
---
“Captain on the bridge!”
T'Pela looked over at Tarsi, a slight smile coming to her otherwise straight Vulcan demeanor as she stepped out of her ready room. Tarsi always did that. She would tell T'Pela that it was a sign of respect.
“Report, please, Tarsi.”
Tarsi smiled and began to stand before T'Pela waved her down, “Everything functioning normally, Captain. We will be at Vulcan about a half hour before our scheduled ETA.”
“Very good. Lieutenant Mitti, please open a communication link with Vulcan Central Information and transfer the link to my ready room.”
Mitti looked up from her communications console, her large Saurian eyes making contact with T'Pela, nodded, and set about her task.
T'Pela looked over to Tarsi, “If possible, I'll need absolute privacy for the next few minutes.”
Tarsi looked deeply into T'Pela's eyes. She and the captain had been friends a long time, and she knew the look in her eyes. It was something Tarsi had rarely seen before, and the look made her worried. “Of course, Captain. If you need anything...” Tarsi allowed the sentence to trail off.
“I'll be fine,” and T'Pela returned to her ready room.
She sat down behind her desk and activated the interface. An attractive Vulcan appeared on the screen, “This is Vulcan Central Information's Holographic Interface. How may I assist you?”
T'Pela's eyebrow raised slightly, surprised at the quality and intricate nature of this hologram. In her time, nothing like this had ever existed. “Information: Solek, son of Stona. Status and location.”
The hologram responded, “Please stand by,” and after a moment, “Solek, son of Stona is presently in ShiKahr, in the ShiKahr Medical Center. Would you like me to transfer you to the Medical Center?”
T'Pela felt surprised and thought to herself, “He is still alive. Amazing. No wonder I feel him.”
“Yes, please connect me to ShiKahr Medical Center.”
“One moment, please,” and the hologram disappeared with a screen that stated in standard, Stand By, with the IDIC symbol.
After a moment, the screen changed to a young, blond Vulcan. To T'Pela, this young lady seemed to be flesh and blood. She responded politely, “This is ShiKahr Medical Center, I am T'mon, how may I assist you?”
“This is Captain T'Pela of the Antillies. I am calling on a personal matter. I would like to know the status of Solek, son of Stona.”
“Of course, may I ask how you know him?”
T'Pela stalled for a moment, a moment noticed by T'mon, but politely ignored, “I am a friend of his. He has not heard from me in a long time, and I'd rather not bother him at this time.”
“I am pulling up his information now. I am sorry, but it appears he is suffering from Bendii Syndrome. We have him in a special ward.”
T'Pela forced down her emotions of panic and sadness, “would I be allowed to see him?”
“Other than family, no one is allowed to see him,” T'mon replied.
T'Pela sat back for a moment. “I understand. Could you at least tell me his room number?”
“Room S703.”
“Thank you for your help. Peace and long life.”
T'mon nodded, “Live long and prosper.”
T'Pela sat back. How would she minimize her impact on the temporal prime directive, while at the same time get in to see her husband? An idea began to come into her mind. T'Pela looked up toward the ceiling, “Captain to Lt. Tarsi.”
“Tarsi here.”
“Could you come to my ready room, please.”
“Be right there.”
A few seconds later, Tarsi walked in and sat down opposite T'Pela at her desk, “What's on your mind.”
“This is strictly off the record and personal. I would like your help, but I will not order what I'm about to ask.”
Tarsi's voice was full of compassion for her friend and captain, “You know that's never stopped me before, T'Pela. What do you need?”
“My husband is still alive. I am afraid he is dying. I am going to go see him.”
Tarsi sat back, “You know this goes against everything that Daniels told us. We are supposed to leave the past behind.”
“I know.”
Tarsi nodded, “Fair enough. How can I help?”
T'Pela's eyes teared slightly, “You have always been my t'hy'la.” T'Pela gathered her emotions back into check, “I plan to beam directly into Solek's room. If you could keep security away from us. I would only need a few minutes.”
“You want me to hack into the hospital's security system and keep it busy?” Tarsi smiled, “You've got it.”
“Thank you, Tarsi.”
“Anything for you, Captain.”
Tarsi stepped to the door of the ready room, and as it opened asked, “Lt. Lorita, time to Vulcan?”
The human pressed a few buttons and responded, “We are fifteen minutes to Vulcan, ma'am.”
“Very good.” Tarsi turned back to T'Pela, “Captain, see you in fifteen,” and walked onto the bridge letting the door shut behind her.
T'Pela sat back and felt her Vulcan emotional control fail her slightly, as a few tears ran down her cheeks. “Bendaii Syndrome,” she thought to herself. It would take all her control not to fall apart when she saw her beloved.
---
Tarsi sat in the first officer's chair and keyed up the comm for the ready room, “Vulcan system in a couple minutes, Captain.”
T'Pela stepped out of her ready room and headed for the turbolift, “have Transporter Room 1 cleared for me.”
“Aye, Captain.”
When T'Pela got to the transporter room, it was empty as requested. She set in coordinates for the ShiKahr Medical Center and stepped into the chamber. In a moment, she found herself inside a comfortable, if spartan, room. There were no decorations of any kind, the walls were padded, with a small bed where a man lay.
“Solek?” T'Pela whispered.
Solek turned and screamed at her, “Go away!”
“Solek, it is me, T'Pela.”
“You lie! T'Pela is dead. The Klingons took her from me! The Klingons!”
T'Pela moved toward him, gently yet firmly grabbing him, “Look at me Solek. Look at me!”
Solek stared into her face. A look of complete wonder and sadness passed over his face, “Beloved?”
T'Pela knew how Solek had felt about her, but never had he called her that, “Yes, my husband. It is I.”
“How? You are dead. Admiral Garret told me you were dead.”
“I know, my love. I was whisked through time.”
Solek stared for a long time, “I know I have Bendaii. But if you are not real, I don't want to know. All this time, I have felt you with me; in my mind. I never let you go. Even when everyone else told me you were gone. I refused to believe.”
T'Pela took a good look at the man in her arms. He looked so old and frail. Little muscle remained on his frame. He looked as dry as the Forge itself.
Solek's voice cracked, “You haven't aged a day. You are as beautiful as you ever were.” He leaned into her, his dry lips grazing against her.
T'Pela kissed him gently. “Parted from me and never parted. Never and always, touching and touched.”
Solek smiled. Suddenly, he sagged in T'Pela's arms. T'Pela grabbed hard onto him, holding him, gently lying him on the bed. It was at that moment, she realized that he wasn't breathing. She ran to the door and finding it locked pounded on it, “Hurry! He needs help! Hurry!”
T'mon opened the door, recognized T'Pela and slid past her. Running a tricorder over Solek's body, she turned and said gently to T'Pela, “I am sorry. He is dead.”
T'Pela turned to hide her grief as T'mon continued, “It was expected. For the last couple weeks he had been holding on, as if he were waiting for someone. I guess you were who he was waiting on.”
T'mon stepped up to T'Pela and placed a gentle hand on her forearm, “If you leave now, I will make sure the incident is not recorded.”
T'Pela turned and stared at T'mon. “Why?”
“Because Daniels told me who you are, T'Pela, wife of Solek. And I know that the less anyone knows about this, the better. Please, leave now, before you are seen.”
T'Pela nodded her thanks as she pulled out her communicator, “Antillies, one to beam up.”
---
T'Pela returned to an empty transporter room. She wiped the tears from her eyes and put her whole mind to her Vulcan control. She walked from the transporter room to the holodeck, and after getting inside, she locked the door.
“Computer, run program T'Pela Risa Rain.”
The holodeck changed into Risa before weather control or any of the many changes had been made to the planet to turn it into a resort. Instead there was a cave nearby with a stream running into it, and warm rain coming down.
T'Pela did not head for the shelter of the cave, but instead, kicked off her boots, took off her stockings and let her feet sink into the mud. She made fists with her feet as the loose earth squished between her toes. She spread out her arms and, with her eyes closed, put her face to the sky. Now the rain joined the tears she shed for her beloved.
On his death, she heard him in her head, and now she heard him one last time, “Parted from me and never parted. Never and always, touching and touched. Thank you, my k'diwa. I never let you go. But now I am dead, and my katra goes to the Other. Let yourself find peace as I did. Goodbye.”
She felt the bond dissolve, and her silent tears wracked her body. T'Pela wrapped her arms around herself as she cried.
She heard the chime of the door, but ignored it. The door was overridden, but she ignored that too. Soon a soft, warm body stepped up behind her and wrapped its arms around her.
“I am sorry, T'Pela,” Tarsi whispered in her ear, “Let's get you to sickbay. We have an ambassador to pick up.”
---
This is the end of the first chapter. If you like it, please leave a comment. If you don't, please let me know why. If enough people like it, I will write and put up a second chapter.
Notes to Readers:
This story is written in the universe of Star Trek Online. It will reference several things from the game as well as the multiple Star Trek series. If you have not played the game then this is a spoiler alert.
This writing will describe some events from the game so that those not familiar with the game may not be totally lost.
---
Captain's Log (append date) Seal for Temporal Operatives Only.
Well, I am dead. The battle of Caleb IV was a defeat for the Federation. However, it did allow them to discover the Klingon's acquirement of cloaking devices. In the process, however, the U.S.S. Surak was lost with all hands. At least, that is how the history books are written. We were not lost though. A temporal agent named Daniels brought myself, my ship, and my crew to the 25th century.
Most of the crew have left now, and I have a full crew of new people. Only my Andorian friend, Lt. Tarsi has stayed with me on my new ship, the Rhode Island class, U.S.S. Antillies. Apparently it was named after a fictional character, a pilot of incredible skill.
I know that Daniels told me to forgo my past. The old T'Pela is dead. But I am she. In my mind, I still feel the link with my husband, Solek. Parted from me and never parted. Never and always, touching and touched. I must know if he still lives.
I will have the opportunity to find out. After having saved the S.S. Azura, we have been assigned a mission to ferry an ambassador from Vulcan to P'Jem. We proceed at maximum warp so we may arrive ahead of time, to give me a few extra hours.
End Log.
---
“Captain on the bridge!”
T'Pela looked over at Tarsi, a slight smile coming to her otherwise straight Vulcan demeanor as she stepped out of her ready room. Tarsi always did that. She would tell T'Pela that it was a sign of respect.
“Report, please, Tarsi.”
Tarsi smiled and began to stand before T'Pela waved her down, “Everything functioning normally, Captain. We will be at Vulcan about a half hour before our scheduled ETA.”
“Very good. Lieutenant Mitti, please open a communication link with Vulcan Central Information and transfer the link to my ready room.”
Mitti looked up from her communications console, her large Saurian eyes making contact with T'Pela, nodded, and set about her task.
T'Pela looked over to Tarsi, “If possible, I'll need absolute privacy for the next few minutes.”
Tarsi looked deeply into T'Pela's eyes. She and the captain had been friends a long time, and she knew the look in her eyes. It was something Tarsi had rarely seen before, and the look made her worried. “Of course, Captain. If you need anything...” Tarsi allowed the sentence to trail off.
“I'll be fine,” and T'Pela returned to her ready room.
She sat down behind her desk and activated the interface. An attractive Vulcan appeared on the screen, “This is Vulcan Central Information's Holographic Interface. How may I assist you?”
T'Pela's eyebrow raised slightly, surprised at the quality and intricate nature of this hologram. In her time, nothing like this had ever existed. “Information: Solek, son of Stona. Status and location.”
The hologram responded, “Please stand by,” and after a moment, “Solek, son of Stona is presently in ShiKahr, in the ShiKahr Medical Center. Would you like me to transfer you to the Medical Center?”
T'Pela felt surprised and thought to herself, “He is still alive. Amazing. No wonder I feel him.”
“Yes, please connect me to ShiKahr Medical Center.”
“One moment, please,” and the hologram disappeared with a screen that stated in standard, Stand By, with the IDIC symbol.
After a moment, the screen changed to a young, blond Vulcan. To T'Pela, this young lady seemed to be flesh and blood. She responded politely, “This is ShiKahr Medical Center, I am T'mon, how may I assist you?”
“This is Captain T'Pela of the Antillies. I am calling on a personal matter. I would like to know the status of Solek, son of Stona.”
“Of course, may I ask how you know him?”
T'Pela stalled for a moment, a moment noticed by T'mon, but politely ignored, “I am a friend of his. He has not heard from me in a long time, and I'd rather not bother him at this time.”
“I am pulling up his information now. I am sorry, but it appears he is suffering from Bendii Syndrome. We have him in a special ward.”
T'Pela forced down her emotions of panic and sadness, “would I be allowed to see him?”
“Other than family, no one is allowed to see him,” T'mon replied.
T'Pela sat back for a moment. “I understand. Could you at least tell me his room number?”
“Room S703.”
“Thank you for your help. Peace and long life.”
T'mon nodded, “Live long and prosper.”
T'Pela sat back. How would she minimize her impact on the temporal prime directive, while at the same time get in to see her husband? An idea began to come into her mind. T'Pela looked up toward the ceiling, “Captain to Lt. Tarsi.”
“Tarsi here.”
“Could you come to my ready room, please.”
“Be right there.”
A few seconds later, Tarsi walked in and sat down opposite T'Pela at her desk, “What's on your mind.”
“This is strictly off the record and personal. I would like your help, but I will not order what I'm about to ask.”
Tarsi's voice was full of compassion for her friend and captain, “You know that's never stopped me before, T'Pela. What do you need?”
“My husband is still alive. I am afraid he is dying. I am going to go see him.”
Tarsi sat back, “You know this goes against everything that Daniels told us. We are supposed to leave the past behind.”
“I know.”
Tarsi nodded, “Fair enough. How can I help?”
T'Pela's eyes teared slightly, “You have always been my t'hy'la.” T'Pela gathered her emotions back into check, “I plan to beam directly into Solek's room. If you could keep security away from us. I would only need a few minutes.”
“You want me to hack into the hospital's security system and keep it busy?” Tarsi smiled, “You've got it.”
“Thank you, Tarsi.”
“Anything for you, Captain.”
Tarsi stepped to the door of the ready room, and as it opened asked, “Lt. Lorita, time to Vulcan?”
The human pressed a few buttons and responded, “We are fifteen minutes to Vulcan, ma'am.”
“Very good.” Tarsi turned back to T'Pela, “Captain, see you in fifteen,” and walked onto the bridge letting the door shut behind her.
T'Pela sat back and felt her Vulcan emotional control fail her slightly, as a few tears ran down her cheeks. “Bendaii Syndrome,” she thought to herself. It would take all her control not to fall apart when she saw her beloved.
---
Tarsi sat in the first officer's chair and keyed up the comm for the ready room, “Vulcan system in a couple minutes, Captain.”
T'Pela stepped out of her ready room and headed for the turbolift, “have Transporter Room 1 cleared for me.”
“Aye, Captain.”
When T'Pela got to the transporter room, it was empty as requested. She set in coordinates for the ShiKahr Medical Center and stepped into the chamber. In a moment, she found herself inside a comfortable, if spartan, room. There were no decorations of any kind, the walls were padded, with a small bed where a man lay.
“Solek?” T'Pela whispered.
Solek turned and screamed at her, “Go away!”
“Solek, it is me, T'Pela.”
“You lie! T'Pela is dead. The Klingons took her from me! The Klingons!”
T'Pela moved toward him, gently yet firmly grabbing him, “Look at me Solek. Look at me!”
Solek stared into her face. A look of complete wonder and sadness passed over his face, “Beloved?”
T'Pela knew how Solek had felt about her, but never had he called her that, “Yes, my husband. It is I.”
“How? You are dead. Admiral Garret told me you were dead.”
“I know, my love. I was whisked through time.”
Solek stared for a long time, “I know I have Bendaii. But if you are not real, I don't want to know. All this time, I have felt you with me; in my mind. I never let you go. Even when everyone else told me you were gone. I refused to believe.”
T'Pela took a good look at the man in her arms. He looked so old and frail. Little muscle remained on his frame. He looked as dry as the Forge itself.
Solek's voice cracked, “You haven't aged a day. You are as beautiful as you ever were.” He leaned into her, his dry lips grazing against her.
T'Pela kissed him gently. “Parted from me and never parted. Never and always, touching and touched.”
Solek smiled. Suddenly, he sagged in T'Pela's arms. T'Pela grabbed hard onto him, holding him, gently lying him on the bed. It was at that moment, she realized that he wasn't breathing. She ran to the door and finding it locked pounded on it, “Hurry! He needs help! Hurry!”
T'mon opened the door, recognized T'Pela and slid past her. Running a tricorder over Solek's body, she turned and said gently to T'Pela, “I am sorry. He is dead.”
T'Pela turned to hide her grief as T'mon continued, “It was expected. For the last couple weeks he had been holding on, as if he were waiting for someone. I guess you were who he was waiting on.”
T'mon stepped up to T'Pela and placed a gentle hand on her forearm, “If you leave now, I will make sure the incident is not recorded.”
T'Pela turned and stared at T'mon. “Why?”
“Because Daniels told me who you are, T'Pela, wife of Solek. And I know that the less anyone knows about this, the better. Please, leave now, before you are seen.”
T'Pela nodded her thanks as she pulled out her communicator, “Antillies, one to beam up.”
---
T'Pela returned to an empty transporter room. She wiped the tears from her eyes and put her whole mind to her Vulcan control. She walked from the transporter room to the holodeck, and after getting inside, she locked the door.
“Computer, run program T'Pela Risa Rain.”
The holodeck changed into Risa before weather control or any of the many changes had been made to the planet to turn it into a resort. Instead there was a cave nearby with a stream running into it, and warm rain coming down.
T'Pela did not head for the shelter of the cave, but instead, kicked off her boots, took off her stockings and let her feet sink into the mud. She made fists with her feet as the loose earth squished between her toes. She spread out her arms and, with her eyes closed, put her face to the sky. Now the rain joined the tears she shed for her beloved.
On his death, she heard him in her head, and now she heard him one last time, “Parted from me and never parted. Never and always, touching and touched. Thank you, my k'diwa. I never let you go. But now I am dead, and my katra goes to the Other. Let yourself find peace as I did. Goodbye.”
She felt the bond dissolve, and her silent tears wracked her body. T'Pela wrapped her arms around herself as she cried.
She heard the chime of the door, but ignored it. The door was overridden, but she ignored that too. Soon a soft, warm body stepped up behind her and wrapped its arms around her.
“I am sorry, T'Pela,” Tarsi whispered in her ear, “Let's get you to sickbay. We have an ambassador to pick up.”
---
This is the end of the first chapter. If you like it, please leave a comment. If you don't, please let me know why. If enough people like it, I will write and put up a second chapter.
Post edited by artgravity on
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Comments
Member Access Denied Armada!
My forum single-issue of rage: Make the Proton Experimental Weapon go for subsystem targetting!
It had never occurred to me before that a telepathically bonded vulcan pair would 'feel' each other and instinctively know whether the other was dead or alive. I don't know that there's canon support for the idea that they would feel that bond over such a distance of time and space, but it's a lovely idea.
If that's true, then any temporally-displaced vulcan would experience the same thing. Those temporal agents got a lot of 'splainin to do...
It is certainly logical that she would persist in seeing her husband even knowing about the temporal prohibitions. And I love that Daniels not only foresaw that she would do it, he put an agent in place to help keep it a secret.
And thank you everyone for the compliments. I will be posting the 2nd Chapter shortly.
Notes to Readers:
This story is written in the universe of Star Trek Online. It will reference several things from the game as well as the multiple Star Trek series. If you have not played the game then this is a spoiler alert.
This writing will describe some events from the game so that those not familiar with the game may not be totally lost.
Captain's Log (append date) Seal for Temporal Operatives Only.
Solek, my husband, is dead. I grieve. I feel myself failing to maintain my emotional control. Perhaps the general belief that repression of emotions is the best path is correct after all. I have always believed, as Surak taught us, that control of emotions is what we strive for.
There is war. The Klingons attack our outposts every day. Tarsi would say that they have the intestinal fortitude to be as bold as they are. We recently lost many ships at Utopia Planitia to a raiding party of Klingons; intestinal fortitude indeed.
I know that Starfleet needs good captains now. So many enemies, and fighting on so many fronts. But how can I serve when my heart desires to destroy? I have never felt so unbalanced before.
End Log.
-
T'Pela stands alone, in a cave, surrounded by four Klingon warriors. Two wield bat'leths, warrior configuration. A third hefts a mek'leth, while a fourth waves a d'k tagh blade. She readies herself, waiting for one to make a move.
See feels before she sees one of the Klingons swing his bat'leth toward her head. She ducks, turns, and raises herself inside the arms of the Klingon, bringing the back of her skull into contact with his nose. She hears it crunch and the Klingon sags as she takes the bat'leth from his weakened grasp.
The other Klingon with a bat'leth swings toward her, and again she ducks, but this time the bat'leth makes contact, with the Klingon that had been behind her. She swings her bat'leth out, making contact with the charging Klingon's legs, felling him. She stands, driving her bat'leth into his chest.
Before she can react, a mek'leth slides in and disarms her. Standing back a moment, she turns to face this threat before a blade slices through her calf. She falls, bringing her uninjured foot up and across the Klingon that had attacked her from behind. With every ounce of strength left, she drives the tip of her boot into his ribs, crushing his heart.
She rolls, grabbing the d'k tagh blade from her leg, and just as the last Klingon's mek-leth swings for her head, she throws the blade, landing it squarely in his neck. The Klingon falls on top of her, his life seeping onto the ground.
After breathing a moment, she manages to push the dead Klingon off of her. Seeing her green blood on the floor, she rips the sleeve of her shirt off and bandages the deep wound on her leg. She forces herself to stand, limping.
“Computer. End program.”
The floor and walls of the cave, as well as the weapons and Klingons, all disappear. She limps her way to the exit and toward Sickbay.
-
Walking in, her Betazoid Chief Medical Officer, Kaldra, turns to her, “What have you done?”
Stoically, she responds, “Personal training.”
As Kaldra removes the makeshift bandage, her temper rises, “Training? Did you have the safeties off?”
“Not off. But lowered.”
Kaldra grabs a dermal regenerator and carefully tends to the wound, “You are foolish captain. There was no need for you to risk injury.” She turns to look her captain in the face, “or are you trying to hurt yourself?”
T'Pela blinked, “Why would I want to hurt myself?”
“Captain, I am a telepath. I know what you are thinking and feeling. I know that Vulcans normally handle emotional situations well, but you are not. Now, maybe it is your mixed heritage making things difficult, or maybe...”
T'Pela simply stared at her, using all her control to keep herself from allowing her emotions to show. But, the Betazoid knew. Kaldra's face saddened, “I am sorry Captain. I can't help but feel your pain.” She looked down at the captain's leg, bleeding having now stopped and the wound healed, “This is not okay, Captain. As Chief Medical Officer, I believe you need to take time off to deal with these emotions.”
T'Pela shook her head no, “I cannot. We are too busy.”
“Captain, you know I can make this an order.”
T'Pela nodded, “But I know you won't, because you know I'm right.” She stood, testing her leg. She spoke, “Thank you Doctor,” as she left Sickbay.
Kaldra shook her head, “Kaldra to Lt. Tarsi...”
-
T'Pela made her way to her quarters. She sonic showered, feeling every atom of dirt being vaporized from her body. When finished, she put on fresh clothes, and made her way to the bridge.
Tarsi met her there, “Captain, may I have a word in private?” gesturing toward the ready room.
T'Pela stepped inside, Tarsi on her heels. “I assume that Kaldra contacted you?”
“Yes, Captain, she did. What you did was foolish and reckless and...” Tarsi's voice trailed off a moment, “What were you thinking?”
T'Pela turned toward the window and stared at the stars, “I don't know if you can understand. But it made me feel better. I can't control these intense emotions I am feeling.”
“I do understand, Captain. But how you are handing it is dangerous; both to yourself and to those who serve you. You need time to deal with the situation.”
T'Pela turned, “We are in the middle of a war.”
The intercom interrupted them, “Captain to the Bridge.”
T'Pela moved toward the bridge, pausing by Tarsi, placing her hand on Tarsi's shoulder, “I'll be alright.” T'Pela and Tarsi stepped onto the bridge, “Report.”
Mitti responded, “Captain, we are receiving a distress signal from a Federation Starbase. They are coming under attack from a group of Orions.”
T'Pela turned forward, “Get us there Lorita, maximum warp.”
The Antillies jumped to warp speed, the deck plates vibrating slightly as the powerful engines pumped everything they had.
“Time to arrival?” Tarsi said.
“Less than a minute, ma'am.”
T'Pela took the Captain's chair, “All hands, Red Alert. This is no drill. Repeat: this is no drill.”
The lights darkened, and the klaxon sounded. Lorita spoke up, “We will be dropping out of warp in 10 seconds, Captain.”
T'Pela nodded, “Thank you Lorita. Tarsi, weapons hot and free. Focus on targets of opportunity.”
Dropping out of warp, they saw thirty vessels already attacking the Starbase. Lorita mumbled under her breath, “There is no way we can beat these odds.”
“Tactical display on top right of screen, Lieutenant. I want to see where everything is.” T'Pela quickly looked over the battlefield that she had fallen into, and Lorita was right. Conventional tactics were going to be useless. The Orions were in two lines of formation, and the first line was already attacking the Starbase.
“All power to shields, Tarsi. Lorita, head for the ships on the port side. Put us between the lines of ships.”
Tarsi stared up, “Captain, are you sure? We will be a target for every ship.”
“I am counting on it. Make it so.”
As Tarsi put full power to shields, Lorita engaged evasive maneuvers while heading for the leftmost ships.
T'Pela stepped up behind Lorita, “On my mark, cut hard to starboard and fly between both lines of ships. Do anything you can to keep us from getting shot, but stay between them.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“And... now, Lorita!”
The Antillies turned hard to the right, and Lorita used every trick she knew to fly between the ships, rolling, pitching, and Tarsi got to see what T'Pela was doing, she whispered, “We're crossing their T.” Flying between the ships, every shot that missed hit another Orion. The Antillies flew out past the lines of vessels, their organized attack turning into the twenty ships that were left flying after them.
“Good work, Lorita,” T'Pela commended, “We may have just saved that starbase.”
“Yes ma'am, but who is going to save us?”
T'Pela sighed as the Antillies rocked and shook from every impact of weapons. Consoles began to spark and smoke, “Come about and standby to fire.”
As the Antillies turned to face her enemies, another ship dropped out of warp. Tarsi looked up from her console, “Captain it is one of ours! Odyssey class!”
Mitti spoke up, “They are hailing, audio only. Putting it through.”
A deep voice came from the speakers, “This is Chayton of the U.S.S. Eagle. Slide up behind us Captain, we have you covered.”
The large ship flew over the top of the Antillies, coming between her and the Orions. “Get behind the Eagle, Lorita. Mitti, see if we can enhance her shields. Tarsi, target Eagle's target and give it everything we got.”
The two ships flew together, Eagle taking the brunt of the attacks, Antillies taking out any target that presented itself. After one pass through the mix, Tarsi spoke up, “They are breaking off, Captain. Shall we pursue?”
“Negative, hold position here and stand down Red Alert. Mitti, please open a hailing frequency to the Eagle.”
The screen changed from a star field full of debris to the bridge of the Eagle. A tall, and T'Pela admitted, handsome, human with a tattoo on his face sat in the Captain's chair, “Thank you for the save Captain Chayton.”
Chayton stood, trying hard not to stare at the beautiful Vulcan on the screen, “It is our pleasure, Captain...” And he let his voice trail off, having not heard her name.
“T'Pela.”
“Captain T'Pela. If the Antillies okay? Do you need support? Supplies?”
T'Pela turned to Tarsi. “Captains, we are doing okay. Repair crews are on station. Lt. Feezal informs us that it may take an hour or so.”
T'Pela turned to the viewscreen, “It seems we may be here a bit longer, Captain, but we will be okay.”
Before he could stop himself, Chayton said, “Then perhaps you might take a moment to join me on the Eagle. I would love to show you around, and perhaps share a meal?”
And before she could stop herself, T'Pela found herself saying, “Yes.”
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My forum single-issue of rage: Make the Proton Experimental Weapon go for subsystem targetting!
As for the telepathic bond, in Star Trek the general rule with Vulcan telepathy seems to be that it's forever doing things that aren't supposed to be in its specification. So I'd say you're at liberty to write whatever you like, as long as it's an exceptional/emergency occurrence rather than something you're saying they can do at will.
There's what it's supposed to be capable of doing, which follow various well-defined limits, but then in an emergency things can occur which are a lot more like what you naturally expect of "ESP", i.e. all laws of nature seem to be suspended for a moment. Of course, that would break the story if you could normally do that, so they have to apply some fictional "laws of nature" to telepathy, but occasionally it jumps them. (Well, the whole pair-bond thing is "impossible" itself, according to the normal rules for Vulcans - every other time they use telepathy it definitely requires physical proximity, but the pair-bond defies that and is expected to.) It's rather like the situation with human telepathy, which, in Star Trek, seems to be that it isn't supposed to exist but nobody's told it that. I rather like the fact that that does appear - that occasionally ESP is allowed to be more than just a magic radio set, to be, well, miraculous by any other name.
This is very, very good. The emotional side is very touching but at the same time, you keep it simple enough to be believable for a Vulcan, and also not to sound sickly. And that second one's just shown me that you write action just as well as you write "human interest" things! I'm beginning to agree with the doctor. Dangerous combat simulation games to me come under the heading of "have you got a better idea?". (I may be unhealthy.) Commanding a ship, and crew, in the same spirit is a rather different kettle of fish. Although nothing can spoil the fact that she got away with it this time!