1. Episode 1: That Bitter Taste

Episode 1: That Bitter Taste

Trip could feel the stiffness in his neck as consciousness flooded back. His shoulders were being held tight against the back of a chair by some sort of rope. The rope keeping him upright was also pinning his upper arms to the chair and his wrists were bound behind his back painfully. He rolled his head, stretching out the stiff muscles of his neck and grimaced at the shooting pain that titled from behind his left ear down to the tips of his fingers on his left hand. _Definitely a pinched nerve in there somewhere._ He thought grimly.

He cracked his eyes open hoping to figure out just where the hell he had been taken and by whom. The room he was in could have been anywhere. Grey wall, grey door, no window on the three walls he could see, a strip of fluorescent lights about his head, and the faint buzzing of energy filling the room. Seeing no answer to his questions he closed his eyes again and practiced the breathing techniques that T'Pol had taught him. If he could reach a meditative state he could communicate with her. Maybe she could even find him, at the least she would get Elizabeth to safety.

He was just beginning to slip from the waking world and into the familiar blank space he shared with his wife when he heard the door slide open. He exhaled slowly and blinked his eyes open. Before him stood the last person he expected. A Vulcan.

_Why on Earth, or Vulcan for that matter, have I been abducted by a Vulcan? What does he want with me?_

The Vulcan man simply stood a meter in front of Trip and stared at him. Eventually he raised a single eyebrow and moved forward only slightly. He finally spoke, a strong baritone voice, clipped and precise.

"Commander Tucker, there is no need for you to alert your mate. We will return you, unharmed, once we have had our discussion." He casually clasped his hands behind his back and waited for Trip to retort. Trip wasn't going to give him the satisfaction so he adopted his best "T'Pol face" and waited for the man to continue. Another raised eyebrow, this time in surprise at the human in front of him, and he nodded.

"Very well, you may not find our methods necessary but there was a certain need for… _discretion_. You are constantly under surveillance and we required you to arrive for this meeting unnoticed. I assure you that you will not be harmed and that your mate and your child are not in danger. I am going to remove your bindings, if you strike me or attempt to escape, you will be subdued. We do not wish you harm, but our mission is of the utmost importance. Do you understand?"

Trip simply raised an eyebrow at him, mentally aware of how much he probably looked like Lorian at the moment, and nodded curtly. He waited for the man to release his wrists and arms before speaking. He rubbed his wrists and stretched out his aching muscles. "Ya know, you coulda just asked me to come with you, no need to drug me."

"Indeed but by drugging you we do not have to worry about you knowing where we are. I must tell you now that if our conversation goes well you will not need to be drugged again." He left it unsaid that if their _conversation_ didn't go well Trip would definitely be drugged again, possibly even have his memories erased.

"Okay. Fair enough. Now," He stretched out his legs in front of him. He brought them back, leaned forward and rested his palms on his knees. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

The Vulcan man clasped his hands behind his back again and stared directly at Trip. He may have been trying to make him uncomfortable but years of staring down T'Pol had hardened Trip to the unblinking glares of Vulcans.

"We, the Vulcan people, require your assistance." Trip didn't really know what to say to that. He just stared at the man before him, his words barely registering as he explained the situation. "Our government has, over the decades, become increasingly isolationist. Our disputes with the Andorians have been drawn on too long, and our misuse of Humanity an affront to IDIC. There are those in power on Vulcan who are sympathetic to the cause of reunification between our people and our long separated cousins. What I tell you now is not widely known and is not shared with off-worlders." He paused to let the weight of this confession sink in before continuing. "Long ago our race were violent and warlike. Logic brought peace to the Vulcan people but not all embraced this philosophy. There were those who chose violence and emotion. They left our world and sought out their own, _Rihannsu, _"The Declared". That is what we call those who stand beneath the Raptors Wing. You call them by a different name: Romulan."

* * *

With just one week of shore leave left before the memorial service Malcolm wasn't sure what to do. He should probably visit his parents, meet Hoshi's folks, see his sister, all of those obligatory things. The only problem was, Malcolm didn't want to do any of those things. He had already spent part of his vacation taking down a terrorist group and rescuing his best friends daughter. He had other things _after_ vacation that he was _supposed_ to do and had no way of getting out of those but he wanted to be master of the remainder of his free time. All he wanted, all he really looked forward to, was spending time alone with Hoshi, preferably locked in a room with no interruptions except from room service. If only Hoshi understood this.

Malcolm glanced over at his travel partner and shook his head. _This woman doesn't know a thing about being inconspicuous._ He took in her obvious tourist attire: trainers, cargo pants, tank top, light sweatshirt that was too large, and the most ridiculous hat he had ever seen. Hoshi was normally a very stylish dresser but the woman next to him looked like she only dressed in souvenir shop clothing. The "San Francisco" logo painted out over a relief of the Golden Gate Bridge on her sweater had begun to fade so he suspected that this was a favorite oversized sweater. _Why on Earth is she wearing such ridiculous clothing?_ Malcolm couldn't understand it. When he travelled, which wasn't often, he dressed like a local. Better to blend in and go unnoticed than to stick out and get mugged. The fact that most of his traveling was for covert work didn't help his case any but the woman looked silly.

Malcolm squared his shoulders, mustered up as much courage as possible, and cleared his throat. "Hoshi, this may be indelicate of me, but why are you dressed like that?"

Hoshi turned away from the window and looked over at him. He was wearing nice shoes, dark wash jeans, and a black button up. All in all he looked very nice. She couldn't remember what she was wearing so she looked down at herself and smirked. _Ah, my travel apparel._ She looked back at him and smiled.

"It isn't _indelicate_ Malcolm, it's just well… when I was younger my mom always made us dress like this when traveling from our provence to other parts of the country, I guess the habit just stuck with me. Besides, the last time I traveled here I was wearing nice clothing and I had an entire crate filled with eggs drop on me. Not something I would like to repeat. Not to mention we're just going to go and see my family, _I_ don't have to impress them, _you_ do."

Malcolm gave her a stern look. "Yes, thank you for that." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Hoshi reached over and laced their fingers together. Somehow the feeling of her warm palm against his and the steady thrum of her heart beat at her wrist calmed him.

"Malcolm, my parents are going to like you. I promise to change out of this." She gestured to her whole body. "Just relax and enjoy Japan. Have you ever been here before?"

Malcolm took a deep breath. "Once, but I'm not permitted to give you details."

Hoshi nodded. "Sometimes I forget I'm dating James Bond." She giggled. "Don't tell my dad you were a spy or anything like that, but it might make my mom like you if she knew."

Malcolm looked at her curiously. "So you and your mom are a lot alike?" He asked cheekily. She swatted his arm.

"Shut up." He chuckled. This may not be how he wanted to spend his vacation but it could prove interesting. Maybe a trip to Malaysia was in order? _Don't be ridiculous, there is no way you are going to Malaysia._

"Malcolm, are you going to introduce me to your parents?"

_Damn._

* * *

Trip stretched out his sore body as he walked through the corridors with his new best friend Soral. The man could weave a pretty tale but Trip wanted proof that the Romulans were what he claimed them to be and that they were in fact trying to take over Vulcan. They were on their way to the Medical Bay of the Vulcan ship _S'tran_to view an autopsy report and to speak with Soral's superior. Trip had to admit that it was a little crazy to think that Romulus would want to invade Vulcan even if they were distant cousins. Maybe there was more to it?

The doors to the Medical Bay slide open silently revealing a room that resembled the sickbay on _Enterprise_. Two Vulcan men with grey hair stood with their backs to the door. Trip stopped dead when he realized he knew one of them.

He walked slowly up to them. "Soval?" He wasn't entirely sure he should trust his eyes.

The grey haired ambassador turned to him and nodded in recognition. His companion stared at Trip, assessing him, judging him. "You must be Commander Tucker of the Clan of Surak." Trip nodded at the stranger. Maybe this was the doctor. "I am Syrran. Vessel to Surak and leader of the Syrranites." Trip frowned. _Vessel to Surak? What the hell does that mean?_ "You are unfamiliar with myself and with the concept of housing _katras._" _Oh, that._

"I am not unfamiliar with the concept of housing _katras._ Though the way in which I am familiar with it is unusual it is not beyond my understanding. I am curious though," he tried his best to speak properly and keep as much emotion out of his voice as possible. The last thing he wanted was to be seen as an overly emotional Human. "Why would you, Syrran, require my assistance?"

Syrran moved away from Soval and approached Trip. Suddenly he was aware that Soral was not next to him but speaking quietly to Soval. _No one to defend me._ "You ask wise questions Charles. The reasons we require your assistance are simple to explain. The mother of your mate, T'Les, is a Syrranite. We are a pacifist group seeking out the true teachings of Surak, the _Kirshara._ The corruption within Vulcan is still beyond our control and we are unsure who we can truly trust. You are Human but you are also Vulcan through your marriage. We trust you as a citizen and as an off-worlder. It is our understanding that you have been assigned to a Star Base designated _Deep Space One_. We want you to relay any information your station acquires on the Romulans to Soval. If the Romulans are moving against us and our allies we want to be prepared. Vulcan is on the brink of civil war, we need you to help us find peace once again."

The idea of being instrumental to the peaceful outcome of a civil war on Vulcan was a big pill to swallow. Trip contemplated what that would look like for himself and his family. "Can I tell T'Pol? She will be better equipped to assist you than myself. We work better together and as co-commanders of the star base she will know what I am doing eventually, it is logical to simply tell her now and utilize her skill."

Syrran nodded. "You may tell T'Pol. There may come a time when one or both of you are required to journey to Vulcan. Events may unfold in such a way that your presence will be required. I thank you on behalf of Vulcan. You honor us with your service."

Trip exhaled slowly and looked over to Soval who was watching them. "Would now be a good time to get those scans done on my head? Whatever skills I may have I want to use them to help. I need to know what's happening to my brain."

Soval gestured to the biobed next to him. "I do not see a reason why the scans cannot commence. Soral, retrieve Doctor Yuris from his office."

Trip sat on the edge of the bed. He rolled his tongue around his cheek and could taste the bitterness of sedative. His throat was dry and now the overwhelming taste of unconsciousness was making him crave water. "Soval, is there any way I could have a glass of water?"

"Of course." He walked over to a wall panel and pressed a series of buttons. A glass of water appeared out of thin air, just like on that traveling repair station. "Once the doctor has concluded his tests we will return you to the beach house on the Embassy's island. T'Pol is still visiting with her mother and will not have realized you were taken. Once you arrive home I would suggest you tell her of our arrangement in private and as discretely as possible."

Doctor Yuris walked into the room and approached Trip. "Commander Tucker, I understand you wish to have test run to map out your brain. You have been examined by Osu Soval, correct?" Trip nodded. "Empathic abilities are uncommon among Vulcans but I am to understand that they are unheard of in Humans."

"Well, psychic and telepathic abilities have been claimed by people forever. Most people, myself included until recently, believed that it was impossible for a Human to read another's thoughts. Some religions in Earth's history however professed such abilities. I think that the whole area of the brain and ability in Humans has been unstudied because it is considered mystical and non-science."

"Very well, we shall see if Humanity is not in fact capable of such things."


	2. Episode 2: Stirrings

Episode 2: Stirrings

T'Pol sat crossed legged on the floor. The candle burned brightly in front of her, obscuring her view of her mother. They had been meditating for nearly an hour when T'Pol felt a surge of adrenaline through the bond she shared with Trip. She vaguely wondered what he could have found so stimulating since he was supposed to be packing for them and communicating with Starfleet Headquarters about their transfer. Her mother must have sensed her shift in focus because she slowly opened her eyes and stared at her appraisingly.

"Is Charles-kan well?" She asked quietly, aware of the fact that Elizabeth was sleeping in a Moses Basket only a meter away.

T'Pol looked at her mother, unsure of how to answer the question. She responded after a moments thought, equally quiet so as not to wake her daughter. "Yes mother, I simply sensed his excitement. I apologize if my reaction was distracting."

T'Les inclined her head. "It was not distracting, simply intriguing. Are you always able to sense his emotions?"

T'Pol pulled up every memory she had of every moment sense discovering the bond, and even before. She remembered the initial feelings that had seeped into her consciousness. Then the abrupt change with the final formation of the bond, the stray thoughts, the random bursts of emotion, the keen sense of his location at all times. They had not spent much time apart since they had formed the marriage bond, and this was the furthest distance they had ever been but even now she could sense that he was unharmed and excited about something. Very excited if she was feeling the intensity of it at this distance. "Yes mother, even before the marriage bond I was able to sense his emotions within close proximity. Now, I am often able to locate him simply by searching through the bond. His emotions are a part of my consciousness and mine are a part of his." She looked at her mother with a raised brow. "Did you and father share this bond?" It occurred to her after she asked the question how personal and inappropriate it was.

Her mother appeared unfazed by it. "No, T'Pol. Your father and I had a marriage bond that was much weaker than the one you share with your _sa-telsu_."

T'Pol wasn't sure why but the idea that her parents had not shared as strong a bond caused a flicker of sadness to cross her emotional barrier. She recovered in time to hear her mother's next thought. "Perhaps the reason your bond is so strong, for it rivals the Pre-Awakening stories of bonds, is because you are bonded with one who experiences emotion. Our people were once an emotional race, even Surak shared a strong bond with his mate, T'Raya. They were from the time Before. If Charles-kan also possesses empathic abilities, as we suspect, that may also contribute to the strength of your bond."

T'Pol nodded, a trait she had picked up from her time on the _Enterprise_. She suddenly found herself running her tongue on the inside of her cheek and made a mental note to meditate more later to purge herself of the traits of her mate.

* * *

Trip slipped off the bio-bed and stood in front of the medical screen. When Doctor Yuris said he found some interesting things in his brain scans Trip couldn't help the rush of excitement that ran through him. It steadily grew as he waited to exit the imaging chamber. He couldn't wait to hear what the doctor had found, Yuris assured him it was nothing to be worried about. As he stared at the screen, ignoring the fact that he couldn't understand any of it, he committed the every image and piece of information to memory, sending it through the bond to T'Pol. She would know what it meant and would answer any questions he had later. Doctor Yuris turned to Trip and caught his attention by holding out a PADD to him.

Trip took it with a raised eyebrow. Yuris answered his unspoken question. "This has all of the information we have gathered here today, I assumed you would want to share this information with your mate. Will you also be informing Starfleet?"

Trip though about it, clasping his hands behind his back unconsciously, his posture mimicking T'Pol's perfectly. Soval wondered idly if Trip even realized how many of T'Pol's mannerisms he had picked up, or vise versa. Trip finally spoke after a few moments consideration. "I will inform them as long as I am able to do so without raising any questions about the nature of my marriage with T'Pol, nor the origins of my supposed empathic abilities. If these abilities are simply a part of my natural neurological make-up then I will inform them, but if they are a bi-product of my bond with T'Pol then I will not. Some things, Vulcan mate bonds included, are necessary to keep private."

Soval and Yuris were both surprised by his response and Soval once again found himself reevaluating his initial impression of the young man before him. He was respectful, intelligent, cautious, honorable, loyal, and, this is where Soval used to start and stop on his assessments of the Commander, emotional. Charles Tucker was one of the most, if not the most, emotional Human Soval had ever become aquatinted with. Interestingly enough it was this emotionality that made him so well suited for T'Pol.

Trip waited patiently for Yuris to begin his analysis. "It would seem Commander that your neural pathways are in fact indigenous to your anatomy. It is likely that both of your parents also share this ability or, perhaps, you inherited a recessive trait from both parents. Your hair color and eye color are also recessive so it should stand to reason that so is your particular empathic ability. However, without further study of yourself, your family, and any others who exhibit these tendencies all of this is just speculative. I understand that your son, Lorian, is a strong empath as well. Would it be possible to perform the same scans on his brain? I would also like to examine your daughter Elizabeth if at all possible, of course your mate will need to be present for that examination." Yuris typed a code into the computer and brought up information. The image of a human brain and a Vulcan brain side by side accompanied what Trip could only assume was a read out of test results. He motioned to them as he spoke. "If you look closely at the scan of your brain and compare it to the scan of an empathic Vulcan of your equivalent development you will see the slight differences in the areas of the connections, the number of connections in each cluster, and of course the number of clusters. As it is, you seem to possess more clusters with fewer connections than a Vulcan would at your equivalent age.

"The number of connections and the regions in which the clusters are found seem to effect the strength and nature of the ability." He pressed a button and the center of the human brain became spotted with yellow, the Vulcan brain also lit up only not entirely in the center. Yuris continued his analysis. "Several of the areas are equally active, as you can see here. However, Commander Tucker's brain possesses more clusters so the area active is much larger than the Vulcan's. I have compiled a series of tests and exercises that you and your mate should do together to ascertain the strength and limits of your empathic abilities." Yuris closed down the computer console and stepped back. He looked at Trip a moment, hands clasped in front of him contemplatively, before he spoke again. "There is one more thing I noticed while conducting my tests." Trip tensed up. What could he have found. Trip suppressed the nervousness he was feeling, hoping not to broadcast it to T'Pol or Elizabeth. Yuris must have noticed his anxiety because he held up a hand. "There is no need to be concerned Commander. It is simply interesting, not at all harmful, in fact it is the opposite." This peaked Trip's interest. "I did a full body scan to develop a base line and compared it to your medical file in our database." Trip raised an eyebrow. How did they get a Starfleet file?

Soval answered his question. "You are now a citizen of Vulcan Charles, there is no impropriety or subterfuge in obtaining the medical file on one of our citizens." Trip nodded and looked back to Yuris, encouraging him to continue.

"When I compared your medical file and my base line scan I noticed that your cells are five years younger than they should be. Your birthdate on your official file and the birthdate my computer assigned you are five years, three months, fifteen days, and eleven point three hours apart. It would seem you are getting younger." Trip was alarmed at the concept of aging backwards. Puberty is hard enough the first time. What would this do to T'Pol? To Elizabeth? Would he just age backwards until he didn't exist anymore? This sounded like the plot out of an old science fiction film.

Trip reigned in his panic in time to hear Yuris's official prognosis. "However, your cells are slowing in their age of replication. You should reach a point of equilibrium and begin aging once again, though at a much slower rate than an average Human. At my current projections you should live near to the average lifespan of a Vulcan. I will be examining your medical files to try and discern a reason behind your slowed aging. You are, to put it succinctly, an extraordinary Human. Quiet the anomaly." Trip wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a compliment or an insult. _Probably just an observation knowing Vulcans._

Trip let out a shaky breath. His life just kept getting weirder and he could do nothing but accept it. He didn't want a normal life, if he did he wouldn't have fallen in love with T'Pol. If he did he wouldn't have made a career of traveling the stars. If he did he wouldn't be oddly excited about telepathic abilities and living twice as long.

Trip straightened up and offered the _ta'al._ "Thank you doctor for all you have done today." He turned to Soval. "_Osu_ I would like to return now, I still have packing to do and much to speak to T'Pol about."

Soval nodded and led him out of the Medical Bay and towards the transporter.

* * *

Soral followed Soval down the corridor silently. He knew Soval was not happy that he had bound Commander Tucker. He saw it as a logical action and only regretted that Commander Tucker's wrists were injured by his own weight pulling on his bounds. It could not be undone and it was illogical to dwell on what could have been. Commander Tucker was no worse for wear and the Syrranites had the help they needed to secure the Kir'shara and to rid Vulcan of the insidious Romulans. All in all a successful mission.

Soral mentally evaluated the remainder of his tasks while on board. He still needed to download all of the encrypted files they had received from their operative within Terra Prime. The agent tasked with following Captain Archer needed to be replaced in order to avoid suspicion. A new Vulcan liaison needed to be appointed to _Enterprise_ to replace T'Pol. The _Columbia_ would also be receiving a Vulcan officer and from what he heard an Andorian one. _Enterprise_ might also receive an Andorian. The Vulcan's they chose to be placed on those ships would need to be completely free of V'Las's corruption. He needed to find the right Syrranite's to fill those positions.

Soral followed Soval and entered his office closely behind him. He took his seat in the chair opposite Soval and waited for the Ambassador to begin telling him what to do.


	3. Episode 3: Meetings

Episode 3: Meetings

Malcolm sat on the soft floor mat holding a cup of green tea firmly in both hands. He had never felt so nervous in his whole life. Hoshi's father Hiroaki was sitting across from him staring daggers at him. He felt naked, like Mr. Sato could see right through him. Like all of his dirty secrets and insecurities were laid out in front of him ready for Hoshi's father to examine and find fault. Malcolm could feel his palms sweating and didn't think it was just from the heat of the tea in his hands. He didn't know why but the fact that Mr. Sato hadn't said anything yet made him more nervous than if the man was to ask him questions. Why wasn't he talking? Did he expect Malcolm to speak first?

Hoshi and her mother Akari were in the kitchen preparing lunch. Malcolm cleared his throat trying to think of something to break the awkward silence that had fallen on the room. Luckily he didn't have to think too long because Hoshi and her mother emerged from the kitchen with food in hand.

"So, what have you two been talking about?" Hoshi asked as she sat next to Malcolm and handed him a plate of food. It looked and smelled good but he had lost his appetite.

Her father replied gruffly. "We haven't spoken."

Hoshi seemed irked by this slightly and said something to him in Japanese. Hiroaki sat up a little straighter, pulled his shoulders back in indignation and replied in a clipped tone. Akari turned to her husband and said something to him. Whatever it was it made his shoulders slump ever so slightly and he looked at Malcolm once again.

Akari turned to Malcolm and smiled warmly at him. "So Malcolm, our Star tells us that you are the Tactical Officer on _Enterprise._ Is that correct?"

Malcolm nodded before he could find his voice. "Yes ma'am. I am in charge of tactics and security for the ship."

Akari nodded and turned to her husband. She elbowed him, apparently signaling that he should participate in the small talk. He huffed but obliged. "Malcolm, are you and my daughter sleeping together?"

Malcolm turned bright red and Hoshi choked on the bite of chicken she had just taken. She turned and looked accusingly at her father. "Papa, you have no right to ask that and it is poor manners to do so at the dining table. Papa, I love him and you _will_ be kind to him. If you decide that is something you cannot do I will leave and won't return until you can."

The threat didn't seem to effect him. "Hoshi, if you and this man are behaving in such a way I have every right to know. He should respect you, he should treat you as a woman. You should respect yourself as well Hoshi. We raised you with a better sense of honor than this."

Hoshi stood abruptly from the table. "Papa, I do have respect for myself and for Malcolm. He is an honorable man who deserves _your_ respect. He has saved the lives of every person on our ship countless times, and he has helped save Earth. Papa, what about him is dishonorable? What about Malcolm deserves such hostile behavior?"

Hiroaki was on his feet now too. He bellowed at his daughter. "Any man who would dar lay hands upon you deserves my hostility. If he were truly an honorable man he would have asked for permission first. He would never dare enter into a relationship with you without asking for my permission, without bringing forth what he had to offer to you in this relationship for my observation. I should have been consulted. I should have been able to tell him 'no'. It is my right as your father!"

Hoshi practically spate her next words at her father. "_Your_ right? It is my life Papa, not yours. I decide who I see and when. You don't have the right to tell Malcolm that he isn't good enough for me. I love him Papa, he is a good man. Why don't you like him?"

Akari stood and placed a hand on Hiroaki's arm to stop him from responding. She looked at Hoshi, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Hoshi, we are an old family. Your father and I are still living in the ways of the world from centuries past. Space is a dangerous place, filled with hostile aliens who wish to harm humanity. Your father, and I, are simply worried about you and your continued position on _Enterprise._ He is just afraid that you would never leave the ship if you were to enter into a relationship with a fellow crew member."

Hiroaki pulled away from his wife. "Do not put words into my mouth. I dislike this _man_ because he is not smart enough for our Hoshi. She is special, gifted, unique. He is simply a brute who makes his life of taking life. How can he be worthy?"

Malcolm stood and moved to Hoshi's side. "Mr. Sato, Mrs. Sato. You are correct, I am not as smart or gifted as Hoshi. She is a remarkable woman who deserves the very best in life. I care vary deeply for your daughter and I will strive daily to give her the best. I am sorry that you do not approve of me, because of this I will distance myself from Hoshi. I will end this relationship today if that is what you think is best. I won't ruin your relationship with your daughter." Hoshi looked at Malcolm shocked, he avoided eye contact. He took a steadying breath and stared directly at her father. "I will end our relationship if that is what you think is best for Hoshi. I will never speak to her again if you think I'm corrupting her. You decide sir."

Akari brought her hand up to her mouth and let tears silently roll down her face. Hoshi was sobbing and looked pleadingly at her father. Hiroaki stood tall and looked at Malcolm. "Very well Mr. Reed. My choice. You will leave right now and cease all contact with my daughter." Hoshi let our a loud cry and Akari looked angrily at her husband.

Malcolm felt as though a hot knife had been plunged into his heart. He felt the sharp sting of tears burning his eyes and his breath became ragged. His words came out choked. "I'll do as you ask. Goodbye." Malcolm cleared his throat and walked out of the room without so much as a backwards glance at Hoshi. He could feel his world falling apart around him and he yearned for the safe familiarity of _Enterprise_ once again. He was out on the street heading for a transport before he realized that all of his belongings were still in the Sato's residence.

* * *

Hoshi watched him walk out and felt her heart go with him. All the air was sucked out of the room and her will to live was lost. Her father, a man she greatly respected, had just scared off the man she loved. She had never been so angry with him before. She could feel the cold, dark hands of despair reaching out for her and she didn't have the strength to fight it off. She sat numbly on the floor mat she had recently vacated and tried to think of any way she could convince her father to change his mind. She needed Malcolm, she love him. She could picture a future with him, she _had_ pictured a future with him. Her father, who apparently suffered from issues with control, had ruined it all.

The tears that were silently rolling down her cheeks began to swell within her with a violent force. The strangled sound of hopelessness burst forth from her throat unbidden and unhindered. Her mother sat next to her and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. She began to quietly coo to Hoshi all the while fixing Hiroaki with a deathly glare. When Hoshi's sobs became less ragged and her breathing leveled out she lifted her head and looked at her father.

The glow of absolute anger that flashed behind Hoshi's eyes caused Hiroaki to step back away from her. She slowly stood from her mat causing her mother's arm to fall from her shoulders. Hoshi silently walked from the living room, into the guest room, grabbed her and Malcolm's bags, and walked out of the door. She made her way to the transport station hoping to catch Malcolm before he made his way back to the ship and away from her forever. She could only hope that she wasn't too late to keep her father from ruining her future.

* * *

T'Pol walked into the room expecting to see her husband amid bags of their belongings. However, she was greeted with a different sight entirely. Dr. Yuris stood with his hands clasped behind his back. She allowed only the faintest bit of surprise to register on her face. Dr. Yuris raised an eyebrow at her before he began speaking.

"Commander, I apologize for the intrusion but your mate let me into your _beach house_. He believed I could offer you some assistance."

T'Pol was curious as to what Trip thought the doctor could assist her with. "What is it you have to offer me doctor?"

Yuris held up a medical scanner and ran it over T'Pol. "I can see you still have _Panar _Syndrome."

"Yes doctor, as you know it is incurable at this time."

Yuris shook his head almost imperceptibly. "That is a misrepresentation of the facts Commander. Upon consultation with fellow melders among the Syrannites I have been informed that the Syndrome is easily reversed by the healing meld of a trained melder. I am here to perform such a meld, with your permission of course."

T'Pol let the information wash over her, taking it all in slowly, assessing her options. She had no reason to not trust Doctor Yuris, in fact, he sacrificed his career for her sake. "Very well doctor, you may perform the meld."

He nodded and walked forward lifting his right hand to meet the PSI points on her face. The meld itself lasted only a fraction of the time T'Pol expected but the relief, the control, and the clarity were immediate. This meld, though fleeting, had already changed the course of her life.

* * *

The banner of United Earth billowed in the wind as the gathered mass of Starfleet personnel, civilians, and visiting dignitaries stood in the chilly, misty air of San Francisco. Starfleet Headquarters had a special area of the main quad cordoned off and dedicated to the memorial. The engineering staff at Starfleet Research had worked tirelessly to construct the thirty-five square meter memorial garden. It displayed a likeness of each of the people lost during the expanse mission. Each bronze statue was looking to the sky, towards the stars. Their names, ranks, birth and death dates, as well as home towns were all engraved upon small plaques at the foot of each statue. Jonathan couldn't help but feel the pang of loss yet again as he gazed upon the faces of those he couldn't save.

He could feel the warm presence of Trip to his left and T'Pol to his right. The comfort of having his two best friends near him during this emotional time was immeasurable. He unconsciously moved closer to Trip as Admiral Forrest moved to the front of the group. Every single person memorialized here had been directly under his command. He had ordered these people to their deaths. Jon had spent the last week memorizing the names and faces of the families of the deceased. He knew how important it would be to the family members of his deceased crew.

Admiral Forrest gazed out at the crowd and then fixed his gaze to his left. He stood in silent observance of the memorial sight for a few moments, collecting himself. He turned back to to the crowd and cleared his throat. "Today we gather to remember. To remember those who bravely entered into the Delphic Expanse to seek out those who would do evil upon our world. We remember those who showed a great loyalty to their people and to the ideals of Starfleet. These young men and women gave their lives to ensure the continued prosperity of their race.

"While we must never forget the events that necessitated their sacrifice, we must also honor them by living our lives to the fullest. These thirteen men and women represent the best of humanity. I thank each of you for coming today and invite you, after the service is finished, to join us for refreshments in the main atrium. Now let us welcome Captain Jonathan Archer who has a few words to say in memory of those who died."

Admiral Forrest moved back to the line of Admirals and Ambassadors standing in the front of the gathering. Jon straightened up and walked forward to stand on the low dais that Forrest had just vacated. The faces of the mourned and the mourning met his solemn look. He took a steadying breath and reminded himself that he could _not_ pace while speaking.

"Earth owes a great deal to these fine men and women. Generations from now our descendants will look back and recognize the debt owed to the crew of the _Enterprise_ during it's mission to the Expanse. While we travelled through the Expanse, seeking out those who would do harm to our world, relationships were formed. We became closer than friends, we became a family.

"With each passing day I saw more and more of my family taken from me. We never truly mourned those we lost because tomorrow was never a guarantee. Earth needed us to remain strong, focused, detached. As I look at the face of each statue I am reminded of times I spent with my crew. Meals shared, movies watched together, and of course battle fought and hard won. Even though our mission required that we not allow ourselves to become too attached to each other, to keep our distance because death was a reality if not a guarantee, I, and the rest of my crew, found it impossible. The dark and difficult days we spent in the Expanse brought us all closer. We _are_a family. We did mourn those we lost and we will continue to tell their stories to future generations. Generations made possible by their valiant sacrifices. I want everyone to take a moment of silence, close your eyes, find a place of peace. I am going to recite the names of each member of my crew that gave their lives for the mission and for earth."

All gathered closed their eyes or looked to the sky. Jon took a deep breath and looked directly at the statue that most surprised him with its presence.

"Crewman Mateo Gomez, Ensign Rebecca Sterling, Crewman Alyse Le'Beaux," Jon read off all twelve names of his crew who had valiantly given their lives. When he reached the name of the final statue he paused. Meeting the unseeing look of wonder upon his upturned face. "This last name, this last memory is one of the hardest for me. His very life and death were my doing. I willed him into being and I did so knowing that he would die. In the end it was his choice, I would never take from him the life I had given. Sim, who was born on _Enterprise_ lived daily with the memories of a great man. This man, Trip, was needed to save Earth, to help our mission succeed, and Trip needed Sim.

"Because of Trip's nature, which he gave to Sim, and because of Sim's own spirit and sense of justice, Sim decided to give his life to the mission. He saved not only Trip but all of us on _Enterprise_ and everyone on Earth. When I arrived here today and saw Sim standing among his crewmates, looking to the stars, I was humbled. This man, who I watched grow from infancy, was the best example of humanity. He freely gave his life for a mission that was never truly his. Sim stands among his comrades, those who also freely gave their lives for the mission." Jon's voice caught in his throat. "And I thank them."

* * *

Trip and T'Pol stood silently in front of Sim's statue. The plaque at his feet read:

_Sim_

_Crewman First Class_

_Born: 2153_

_Died: 2153_

_Father: Phlox_

_Sim lived and died to give Earth a future. _

Trip looked up from the plaque and stared into his own face. He still had torn feelings about Sim but he, more so than anyone, believed he deserved to be remembered. Trip smiled when he saw that Sim, and every statue present, were wearing medals on their dress uniforms. Medals that they surely deserved and would proudly wear in life as they do in death.

Trip stepped back and saluted Sim. He turned to T'Pol and smiled a melancholy smile. "Let's go Darlin', we need to get Beth from my parents and then pick up the wedding clothes for tomorrow."

* * *

Hoshi followed silently behind Malcolm.

_ When she had finally left her parents house and made her way to the transport station she didn't exactly expect to catch Malcolm. However, when she arrived she saw him just sitting on a bench staring off into the distance. His eyes were red and his cheeks glistened from the tear tracks that decorated his face. She had sat next to him and grabbed his hand. He had numbly turned to her and furrowed his brow._

_"No Hosh." His voice was hoarse from crying. "You shouldn't have followed. Your father..."_

_Hoshi put a finger to his lips to silence him. "Malcolm, if I didn't follow you I would never have forgiven myself or my father. I love you Malcolm, that isn't something I say lightly. My father will forgive me, in the end all he wants is for me to be happy. I think he was just afraid you were taking advantage of me. Don't give up on us already Malcolm. Please." Her last words were choked with tears. _

_Malcolm had gathered her in his arms and said, though his honor said to do otherwise, that he would never leave her. He had sworn to her father and the only reason he was breaking his word was because Hoshi meant more to him than that. _

Malcolm turned around and smiled to her. He offered his hand and she took it. They walked together among the statues, remembering all of the times in the Expanse that they themselves had nearly died.

"It sort of makes everyday more special." Hoshi said quietly.

Malcolm looked at her and smiled. "It really does."


End file.
