Author's note:

So here we go...taking my shot at a purely Trip/T'Pol fic. I'll just be tossing what I've got out there for now and I'll get back to it as soon as I can. Unfortunately that may mean as much as a week or more, with my step-son's starting school again Monday. And all the preparations that this requires. But not to worry. I'm obsessive compulsive just enough that I'll work on this story every passing chance that I can wheedle out of the universe. Wouldn't be surprised I had another chapter I just had to throw down at, say, 1:00am tomorrow or something.

As we go along, as always, please don't spare the red pen. I may be slow to respond to constructive criticism, as my writing and my muse resist all but the most stringent efforts at control. But I do learn eventually. If beaten over the head with it enough over a sufficient period of time...so by all means, swing away.

And, again as always, I hope for nothing more than your entertainment. That alone would make the effort well worth it...if I didn't just love this stuff anyway. ;)

NX-01 Enterprise

Earth orbit

"It appears my…initial prognosis was incorrect." Phlox said, reluctantly. At their look, he explained. "It's genetic. The Vulcan and Human DNA…aren't compatible."

Tucker looked back down at the child...his daughter...overwhelmed. It didn't seem real.

"Is there anything you can do?" He asked.

"I'm attempting to stabilize her nucleotides." Phlox explained. "But there's never been a child like her."

T'Pol gazed at the infant. "Her name is Elizabeth."

Phlox looked on for a moment, reluctant to say anything further. Nothing about the scene before him invited intrusion. As much as he wished to comfort them both…he simply nodded lightly and left them alone.

Beside her, T'Pol sensed Commander Tucker's breath begin to hitch. At a slow glance she could see that he struggled, exhaling sharply in an effort to defer the inevitable emotional display. She assumed, largely for her benefit…

Without thinking she extended the back of her hand to his, where it rested there against the side of the incubator. Allowing the first two fingers of her hand to touch, they began to caress him tenderly...

The entire process fascinated her immediately. It was almost wholly unconscious and she could feel the comfort flowing through her touch. Her index and middle digit locked together as one, becoming a singular entity. An independent, willful creature, moving with a sensual awareness she'd witnessed only in her most secret imaginings.

His hand moved then…and she was concerned at first he would pull away, finding the behavior as unseemly and…strange as she did. But he appeared to accept it, his own two fingers extended and locked, again ostensibly of their own accord. So she continued to observe.

The symbolism was astounding. And very clear, she noted. The two independent entities embraced and caressed one another, seeking and sending comfort. And even to her passive observance they seemed to console one another. Summoning serenity from nowhere, taking and sharing. Overflowing, the excess cascading softly, almost imperceptibly, down and down. Delicately flowing through her grief, breaking at last upon her katra.

And there, like cool air on burning skin…water washing over parched sand…it was received, welcomed. Healing and reviving, provoking luminescence again where there had been only darkness…

Until a mild sigh of relief escaped her, entirely despite herself. And she found herself coming undone.

The mating dance, literally at hand, calling her forth to join in…to participate…her katra stirring…acknowledging the promise…moving to accept…

Such subtle, significant power, to generate such soothing. As much as the two mated creatures could consume for themselves…and more so, enough to touch even her…and, she supposed, Commander Tucker as well.

Together, becoming greater than the sum of both.

"I'm sorry." Phlox said softly, interrupting.

She jerked her attention…and her hand…away. Phlox had approached unheard, scanner in one hand. And…some unidentifiable creature in the other.

"I must…" He said, indicating he required access to Elizabeth.

T'Pol nodded. "Of course."

Suppressing her instinctive need to protect the infant, she rose and stepped aside. Trip followed after a moment, still dazed…though now, she suspected, less overwhelmed and more confused by what had just occurred.

She watched as Phlox worked, studiously ignoring Trip's questioning gaze. She put the matter firmly aside for now, irrelevant in light of what truly mattered at the moment.

Her…daughter was dying.

And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Her grief returned, finding nothing impeding its assault any longer, and she was forced to divide her attention again. Suffering the necessity of suppressing it, else it would surely overcome her completely. She was tempted to succumb, of course, as there seemed no obvious logic in maintaining composure. Beyond the principle itself.

And Trip's sudden need…threatening to consume her…

Her utter, consistent failure with him. A mockery, deriding any prospect of conciliation with their bond.

There was nothing else she could do. About any of it…

She was suddenly aware Phlox had frozen. Her awareness sharpened instantly. Something was wrong…

No. No, not yet. I am not prepared…

"Doctor…?" She inquired, anxiously.

No response. With a quick glance to her side, she found Trip still staring at her. She turned and stepped forward to demand…but was struck by the oddity of what she'd just seen…

Glancing back again she saw that Trip was still staring…at the empty space where she'd stood a moment before.

He wasn't moving. At all.

Phlox as well, she noted with growing alarm. Both of them, frozen in place. Even the slimy creature in the doctor's hand…

Neither of the two men…were breathing.

He attention snapped to Elizabeth…she was unmoving as well…fixed solidly in place, gazing curiously at the IDIC she'd hung from the incubator earlier. With an anxious exhale of breath she darted there, examining her desperately…looking for some sign…

But a golden glow was forming to her right…growing in intensity, already beginning to cast shadows here and there. T'Pol crouched protectively over her child, watching it warily as it began to coalesce above the floor on the far side of the room. Taking shape, forming…

She leapt for the comm nearby, jabbing at it. "Security to…!"

But the button was stuck! She stabbed at it again, insistent.

"There is no need for alarm." A voice spoke behind her. In Vulcan.

She turned carefully, her eyes wide.

He wore dark brown robes, embroidered unpretentiously at the shoulder with the mark of…she didn't recognize the province or clan. His hair was dark, modestly cut, flecked with gray around…decidedly Vulcan ears. A subtle smile at his lips, just enough to suggest familiarity without an unacceptable degree of discourtesy.

But he didn't smell Vulcan. She couldn't detect his presence by scent at all.

"This is only a form." The man said, inclining his head slightly in deference. Adopting now a more proper reticence.

"Who are you?" She demanded immediately. He was only six meters away…if she was quick, she could strike…

"Be calm." He suggested, gesturing slightly, with a remarkable degree of grace.

And she was suddenly calm.

"An odd name." She noted, passively.

The man's subtle smile returned. "A unique trait, the humor you display. The result of your bond, as you are aware."

T'Pol regarded the man, without concern. She decided that she would discover his intentions before taking any further action.

"What do you require?" She asked, switching comfortably to Vulcan. It seemed appropriate. And helped her to remain calm, which was important.

"An agreement." The man offered. "Will you hear my proposal?"

"Of course." She nodded.

He moved to the incubator, making no sound as he approached. Even the swish of his robes remained conspicuously absent. As she observed him looking down on the child, she sensed his subtle psychic projection of appreciation. Very polite and proper behavior, she noted. Something she would otherwise welcome.

But this man was not Vulcan. Perhaps he was not even real…

"Beautiful." He observed. "As always."

T'Pol waited patiently. And calmly.

"We intend an experiment of sorts." The man said, still gazing serenely down on Elizabeth's still form. "But you require understanding before you can offer an acceptable consent."

"You presume that I will agree?" She asked.

"We do." He nodded.

He folded his arms before him elegantly, passing his hands into the sleeves of his robe. Adopting a proper stance of detached consideration.

She was reminded of her father, she vaguely realized.

"You are aware of the theory of relative state function, suggesting the simultaneous existence of all possible universes." He said.

T'Pol nodded slightly. Of course. "The theory suggests a multi-verse, with every possible quantum outcome realized."

Adopting a proper detachment herself, she folded her hands at the small of her back. A classic, properly Vulcan, oratory pose. "Essentially an infinite number of universes existing relative to one another, to accommodate every possibility, forever forming new universes each instant to accommodate every possibility as it occurs. Universes which would themselves divide at each possible point of divergence immediately thereafter…and so forth, infinitely."

"A primitive understanding of existence, but accurate enough." He acknowledged. "With each passing moment an infinite number of new universes are born, proceeding forward through time, created by nothing more than the random outcome of each single quantum event."

"And so all possibilities currently exist, if not in this universe then in another." He continued. "Some older universes differ profoundly, perhaps imploding or exploding at this very moment. More recently created universes may differ more subtly, with perhaps the positions of star clusters having relocated significantly from those of this universe. In some, merely the political nature of a handful of sentient societies display discordance from the universe you know."

The man turned to regard her patiently. "In younger universes the asymmetry is practically negligible. There is one in which the clasp on your left shoe has already come undone. In another, not for several minutes. With this being the only difference between the universe you and I currently occupy and an infinite number of otherwise identical existences."

He returned his attention to Elizabeth. "An aspect of this that you have not yet discovered is that the original katra of each sentient being remains constant throughout this process. It does not alter or divide. Rather, it remains intact, with new katra being born from it to follow new branches of existence as they occur."

This piqued T'Pol's interest. "How can this be known? Some method of observing and identifying the katra would be required. As well as a method of tracking a specific one through infinity."

The man's very subtle smile returned. "We have this ability. The details are irrelevant here. What is important to understand is this: At each moment an infinite number of new universes are born. And within each of them entirely new sentient beings, unaware they have only immediately come into existence. With them, of course, a new katra, else they would not retain sentience."

"But always there is, at that original moment of individual conception, the underived first katra."

The man gestured gracefully at Trip.

"To illustrate…were I to allow this moment to progress, somewhere in this universe an event would immediately occur. The universe would then split, creating a number of universes, one for each possible outcome of that event. For the vast majority of those universes, Commander Tucker would continue to exist. And so for each of them, the individual Commander Tucker that existed would require a new katra in order to remain sentient. One identical to that which exists now, at this moment. And so we would observe that a new one is born for each instance of Commander Tucker."

"Except for one, in which the original katra simply continued to exist."

T'Pol considered. "One original katra, formed at conception, progressing through infinity, distinct in some manner from all those that branch away infinitely."

He faced her again, directly. Still projecting both calm and comprehension.

"That is correct." He said simply. "We intend to discover the source of this."

T'Pol regard her daughter passively then, already intuiting the man's meaning here.

"Elizabeth was conceived long ago. Relatively." She said. "It is therefore infinitely unlikely that the katra this Elizabeth possesses is the original."

"It is indeed the original. This is why I have taken this moment aside." He said. "So that you and I may agree, and so that the experiment may begin from this moment."

"To what end? Do you intend to observe her death?" T'Pol inquired. Still calm, of course…but something about that caused her discomfort…

"That is not necessary. Nor would it require your consent." He informed her. "We intend to retain this existence apart from all others from this point forward. No other universes will be allowed to branch away. And so this katra specifically will be maintained."

Now T'Pol's false calm was fading away. Replaced with a desperate hope. "Beyond the death that threatens her?"

"Beyond this particular death only."

"Why?" She demanded. In English again, suddenly.

And as an afterthought…"And why have you released me from your influence now?" She asked.

"This katra, the original, does not survive beyond this day." He answered. "And by preserving it past that point, allowing it to continue independently, we break continuity. This serves our purposes. I release you because your consent is required."

T'Pol turned to consider Trip…still standing, frozen in place, across the room.

"The offer falls to you alone." He advised.

"It…is not mine alone to…" She said uncertainly.

"There are reasons it must be so. As we must remove the current moment from existence once you have consented."

She balked at that. "Why…?" She would remain unaware then. Unaware that her daughter would live.

"It would interfere unnecessarily." He explained.

She considered carefully. 'It would interfere', he'd said…which suggested interference would ruin the experiment. If they intended merely to observe…and no further interference was required beyond saving Elizabeth's life… saving it today…then this man, if he was a man, was essentially asking permission to spare her daughter's life.

One further question then…

"Why have you chosen Elizabeth?"

"Our projections for an existence in which this original katra survives most aptly meet our requirements. There is nothing more…"

"Then I agree." She declared.

A golden flash.

She blinked.

"T'Pol." Trip whispered, immediately to her left.

But she continued to ignore him, watching Phlox work in vain to save Elizabeth's life.

His frustration quickly became palpable…subsiding soon after as he resigned himself to the futility of provoking her interest. Something he'd grown accustomed to, she knew. As she knew she had only herself to blame for that.

But it didn't matter. It was, in the end, convenient.

Her daughter was dying. And she had nothing to offer him anymore.