xxx

Days Later

Archer

"Best wishes for the future, commander." Archer saluted Seagull as he stepped off into the airlock, ready to go back on rotation. Part of him felt guilty that he was sending back only one man and not two, part of him was relieved to finally be rid of the pompous bastard. At least now Admiral Toussaint had a better idea that theirs was a dangerous game, they weren't just gallivanting around the galaxies, this was for keeps.

Still, there had been too many deaths, yet more crew members gone from the roster, future lives cut short. He shook off the burgeoning self-pity. They'd all chosen this, chosen this existence, the danger and the thrill.

Everything was falling back into place. Almost everything. A Vulcan ship would arrive next, pick off the last three Vulcans. Correction, three of the last four Vulcans. One, he was keeping no matter what. That had been relatively easy.

But a captain's work was never done. There was still more to finesse.

xxx

Spivac

"You shall learn nothing from me."

Jivak stared at Spivac, his face a blank mask. The face of the man who presented himself as a healer was also blank as a slate, though his eyes expressed hatred. Once again, Jivak wondered if the man was a Vulcan agent of the Romulans or a Romulan passing himself off as a Vulcan. It would explain the killings. But that was not his to figure out.

"That is of little import. It would have been illogical for the Romulans to share much that was confidential with you."

"If I am of such little importance, why go to the trouble of capturing me?" There was a slight shift in Spiva's face, informing Jivak that the question of Spivac's relative importance was emotionally laden. It meshed with Spivac's recent attempts at trying to undermine Jivac's leadership with the rebels. It seemed the healer was in need of self-aggrandizement. And that he went at it the Romulan way, promotion by assassination.

"It is a matter of principle. You shall respond for the death of Yonakai and countless other Vulcans, the attempted murder of T'Pol, and the deaths of several citizens of Cathruusa. I trust you kept a memory record?"

Spivac uncovered his teeth in a snarl. "I shall respond for their deaths? You benefited from Yonakai's death. And what about the deaths you caused yourself?!"

It was accurate that the deaths of Yonakai then Mashana had elevated Jivak to a leadership position. The irony being that he was V'Shar the whole time. That was not something Spivac could have known. "Whatever deaths I am responsible for were committed in my position as a Vulcan rebel. You killed Vulcan citizens on the order and for consideration of the Romulan Empire. Hence you are both a traitor and a criminal."

Spivac exhaled brusquely, throwing himself at the forcefield, but stopping short just before he made contact. Jivak didn't move, not even an eyebrow. Spivac looked at him with malice. "You pretend to bring me to justice? What justice? Vulcan justice? The ideal of perverts like you? They'll let me go once they realize I killed logically. Isn't that what's most important to you?!"

"What is most important to us is life."

"Pah!" Spivac spat the word. "Yet you didn't hesitate to kill when you had to. I'm not afraid of your courts, I'm not afraid of death."

So Spivac was a Romulan. Only a Romulan would equate the carriage of justice with death. "What is most important to us is life," Jivak repeated. "Your life will not be forfeit." He almost added 'though you may wish it was', but that would have been an emotional reaction.

If Spivac cooperated with the V'Shar interrogators, he would spend a large portion of his life in jail but his mind would be whole. If he didn't... One way or another, the list of his victims would be known.

xxx

Months Later

Trip

"Come in."

Trip stepped in, squared his shoulders, hands behind his back. He had been back on duty for a couple of months now, they'd had lost the interim chief engineer in the attack, Hesse wanted no part of dealing with the brass, and he knew Jonathan was glad to have him back, even if Captain Archer maintained the official party line of 'this was a temporary accommodation due to the loss of life and resulting staffing needs in Engineering'. After all, there was still the small matter of his leaving Enterprise with the Vulcan rebels without knowing T'Pol was on a mission.

Otherwise, life had pretty much fallen back into its normal rhythms, he was back with his engines during the day, with T'Pol at night, they no longer pretended to have separate quarters, except for the fact he was not on the official roster and could not attend officers' meetings. He still was on the fence as to whether that was Jon's idea of a punishment or a reward. And he knew that at some point he would face the music, that there was a Damocles sword hanging over his head about going AWOL and his possible court-martial.

"You wanted to see me, Captain?" he kept his eyes carefully centered on a point above Archer's head. T'Pol and he had talked about the alternatives, what would happen if... She, very rationally, of course, and he, not so much.

"Yes." Archer shot a meaningful glance at Reed. "I've asked Lieutenant Reed here as a witness." Trip nodded towards Reed, swallowing. So this was it.

Archer looked at his computer, visibly reading some official communiqué. "Starfleet Command has heard from Minister T'Pau and the Vulcan Council in your favor." He still couldn't quite decide if that was because of his relationship with T'Pol, the daughter of T'Pau's great friend, because of the regard Soval held for the engineer, or because Jivak had related what took place on Cathruusa. "In light of the services you have rendered the Federation and Vulcan during a secret mission of extreme sensitivity and the manner in which you conducted yourself during and after said mission, you have been awarded a promotion to the rank of Captain."

"'Captain'? But-" Trip was spluttering, this was not at all what he'd expected. Or wanted.

"All the agents on the list have been apprehended. The entire Romulan operation is over," Archer provided as way of an explanation. He shot another look at Reed, cleared his throat, and went back to the screen. "On the matter of the charges levied against you for desertion and sedition," he interrupted with a raised hand Trip's budding protestations, still reading the text, "Starfleet has taken note of the above-mentioned accomplishments and has agreed to drop charges on all counts except for your failure to go to your appointed place of duty. In consideration of which you are hereby reduced to the rank of Commander, to remain at your post as chief engineer of Enterprise."

Finally, Archer smiled. "Congratulations are in order, Commander."

xxx

Years Later

Soval

He was on fire. Everything burned. The world around him, even the stone he was lying on. His eyeballs were burning, leaching flames out of their sockets. His mouth was a tongue of flame trying to vent his mind. He was burning. If he could reach the water he would be safe, he would be saved. He crawled on the ground and still it did not cool him. A last inhuman feat of sheer willpower propelled him to the water. And then he was diving deep, trying to disappear into the pool and stop the burning that drove him to madness.

The fire still smoldered. As soon as he was done, it renewed its assault, driving him to the fountain again, he never wanted to leave. The gentle whisper of water was guiding his aim, he wanted to keen like a newborn, surrounded by water all around. The cycle went on, of burning flames and skin that could only be cooled with the promise of mornings without pain, of desire born of reason and not need.

Finally the flames burned out long enough that he could reclaim his mind. His senses were coming back. The breath of normality was upon his skin. Soval opened his eyes into those of T'Pau. He was still joined to her, it would be days before he could bear not being inside of her. He flexed his fingers, relishing the newfound feeling. Slowly, gently, he traced the contour of her jaw, careful of the bruises left by him.

And it struck him that if she hadn't been there, it might have been an acolyte he woke up with, even T'Agad. A strangled sob escaped him, of gratitude too large to be contained. T'Pau raised an eyebrow at him but they still couldn't speak. It would be days more.

Unnoticed by him, the fire had come back. He was on fire. Everything burned. The world around him was a giant furnace, even the stone he laid on was hot. But water chanted in his mind, the soothing music of a waterfall. He drove himself deeper to escape the inferno, the circle of flames threatening to seize him if he ever left the cool sheath.

xxx

T'Agad

"Here." The guard opened the door. The cell was soothing, the wall tiles imitating the strata of the outside rock.

She knew that brought no relief to the person inside. The warden called upon her only for desperate cases, those who refused to forgive themselves, who found their crimes couldn't be atoned from inside a jail. Some things could never be atoned for. She would forever be an acolyte, never to rise to the priesthood. Over the years she had come to understand and accept what she had done, but she had never forgiven. Actions were immutable, lives lost were forever lost, what had been illogical did not become logical.

She understood Surak, the need to single-handedly move Vulcan to peace, the realization that this was the only way to counterbalance the harm done. She had done great harm, and was still trying to counterbalance it, would always do so. But she was not moving a whole nation, only single katras, and only the few that allowed it.

The guards bowed as she stepped in. The man had been deeply depressed and even the healers had not been able to reach him. He had sown a tragedy, impacting families other than his own, his katra was blemished. And yet he suffered more intensely than many who had done far more. There was no telling how the delicate architecture of one's mind was structured.

"Leave!" The voice was strong. He had been refusing sustenance and intervention, yet there was life still within him.

"I cannot leave until I hear you." She settled herself comfortably in a meditation pose.

"Hear me? There is nothing to hear! Leave me die!" he openly snarled. The presence of another within his isolation space would unnerve him. That was expected. There was always the possibility he would turn on her, the path to aggression had been opened in his mind, easier to find again. Her bondmate did not favor her intervening in that manner, but she could spare no effort to save a life.

"I will leave only when I know the depth of your soul."

"I have no soul," he spat back.

"Neither do I."

The man looked at her in surprise. "You are an acolyte."

"I forsake my soul when I caused the death of others."

That drew a pause. The man eyes her with circumspection. "Acolytes do not kill."

"And yet I did. Would you like to hear my story?"

Silence fell over his refusal to reply. He turned his back to her. She entered the path of light meditation, letting her katra soar and expand in the small room. Neither moved for hours.

Eventually, the man stirred, as she knew he would. The Vulcan mind was ever curious. "Acolytes do not kill," he repeated.

She inclined her head at the invitation to speak. "I am T'Agad, she-who-is-the-wife of Poryk, and this is my story, our story..."

xxx

Somewhere in the universe

Dvovresh gav Jahk walked into the small store in the small outpost on Ligunia, shaking the rain off his coat. This was the armpit of the world, for sure. A minuscule outpost on three dots lost in the middle of the ocean that covered the entire godforsaken planet. Not cold enough to freeze over, not warm enough for the sun to ever shine. Of course he would be so lucky as to have the crystal chute develop a crack just as he was passing by, have to stop and get repairs done in this place. Of all places.

Four weeks already he'd been waiting, and every couple of days the same story. The repairman was almost done but his kid was sick or his wife threatened to leave him, or some other transparent lie to explain why the lazy son-of-a-bitch wasn't done already. At least he'd only forked over half the price of the repairs. Otherwise, he could've kissed his ship good-bye.

"Anything for me?" he asked the sleepy attendant behind the counter. Not that he'd expect much from her, that entire species was the laziest scum he'd ever seen. She proceeded to huff and puff her way to the storage room, leaving a shiny trace of slime behind her.

Dvovresh waited. He'd only shown up ever couple of days for four weeks now, one'd think she'd know whether or not he'd received anything by now. He also knew from experience she'd take at least a half-hour to come back empty-handed. Must be brewing some of that noxious potion they used as a relaxant planet-wide in the back area. He'd come to know the store like a second lair. He let his gaze roam over the dirty walls, the dingy furniture, the basket of old padds in a corner. Come to think of it, he'd never really paid attention to the padds.

He walked over, scrunching his snout in disgust at the dust covering them, daintily picked one up with a split hoof. The padd was still active. Dvovresh looked at the pictures of the two aliens, read the caption, the large "Wanted Alive" angrily sprawled in bold red letters over the pictures. A Human and a Vulcan. He could read Vulcan well enough to understand the caption, they were both traitors to their worlds. The reward for their capture made his eyes bulge. If he caught them alive. Of course, he would, Dvovresh never killed his prey. They'd still be together, his hunter's sense told him so.

He smiled. The gods were looking on him. His fortune would soon be assured. Once he got his skiff repaired. The sun may not be shining outside, but this had just turned into a beautiful day.

xxx

THE END

We're done! Thanks everyone for sticking with this story. It was a blast to write, gave me quite a few sleepless nights. I'm a little sad to be done, but it was time. And there's the possibility of a sequel, obviously :)

A couple of notes, for those who might be interested:

- I had initially thought of taking the story into yet another entirely new direction, by having Trip's coma be a complete story within a story, but realized that may not work for readers.

- with T'Agad, I was interested in the description of a religious experience, and atonement. All I can say is that I need to read a lot more stories that describe that kind of arc.

If you have any other questions, please ask, I'm always happy to answer.