Blue on Blue

Chapter Nineteen

T’Pol paused, her fingers curled around the base of a stone.  

Jonathan had turned his head, but not toward Trip.

T’Pol blinked.  Voices were coming down the tunnel, growing louder and closer.  They were accompanied by the beam of search lights and the strained and welcome faces of Ensign Mayweather and Lieutenant Reed.  Half a step behind them were Ensign Sato and Doctor Phlox.

The doctor looked from Trip, to Jonathan and then at T’Pol.  “Looks like I’m going to be busy,” he said, opening his supply pack, even as Mayweather and Reed moved in to help with the rocks.  T’Pol began to lift the one she was holding, then found there was no strength left to set it aside. 

“Here, I’ve got that,” Travis Mayweather gave her a nod as he scooped it from her hands.  “You’ve been at this a while.  I’ll take over.”

She let him step into her place without protest and saw Malcolm Reed taking a stone from the captain’s hands.

“Well, Commander,” Phlox was addressing Trip.  “This doesn’t look so bad.  You’ve broken your right tibia and torn two ligaments in your knee.  There’s a deep scalp laceration and a rather nasty concussion.  You’ll need a couple of days complete bed-rest.  No, don’t look at me like that.  I said, ‘complete bed-rest.  Until the dizziness passes.  After that, you’ll be as right as rain.  Probably won’t remember a thing about any of this.”

His light, brisk tone rose and fell, rose and fell somewhere far away as T’Pol took two, three, four steps and leaned her back against the tunnel wall. 

“And it also appears that you have two cracked ribs…” Phlox continued.

…Ribs, Mamma, like falling off the roof again…

And T’Pol found herself sliding down the wall to sit in a shuddering ball at its base, hugging her arms around her chest as she had when the connection with Trip had broken. The search was over.  The rescue soon would be.  In a little while she would get up, walk out of this cold, dark mine and maybe, instead of those three troublesome moons, she would see what daylight looked like on this world.

Even if her years of training had not taught her to express pride or pleasure, she could have admitted satisfaction in the accomplishments of these last long hours.  But there was none, only the lingering sense that she still wandered alone and small in the void of some expanded state of consciousness. 

Doubtless it was an after-effect of performing an untrained meld.  She must examine that possibility and determine as best she could how to enact healing on herself… 

But she would close her eyes first  A momentary meditation.  Just enough to gather a little of the equilibrium that seemed to have scattered after that jolting separation.  That was all she would need, a moment…

Voices murmured in relieved, unhurried conversation above her head.

“So how was it you-”  That was Ensign Mayweather.  “Decided to bring the doc?”

“I estimated the number of spoken syllables that could fit into the gaps caused by the interference.” Ensign Sato replied.  “Then extrapolated.”

The flow of their words was soothing.  There was a low appreciative whistle, presumably from Mayweather.  She didn’t open her eyes to find out.

“Actually,” said Hoshi.  “It was pretty much common sense after I heard both ‘med’ and ‘mergency’.  So I contacted Doctor Phlox and…”

T’Pol blinked.  When had Jonathan sat down next to her?   She was uncertain, but there he was, with his head leaning back against the wall, his eyelids drooping almost shut and one arm lightly pressing against her own.  When had that clean, dry blanket been tucked around his shoulders?  It was a real one now, not improvised from her jacket.  For that matter, how had she come to have one of her own?

Nearby Phlox was leaning over Trip, pressing a hypo-spray against his neck.  T’Pol listened to its faint hiss and wondered when they had taken all the debris off him and gotten him onto an improvised stretcher without her having been aware of the activity around her.  And when had Hoshi’s small, gentle hand settled on her shoulder?

“Commander, we’re about to leave now.  May I help you to your feet?”

“Thank you, Ensign.”  She nodded and saw that Malcolm was already assisting Jonathan up as Phlox and Travis moved toward the main tunnel with Trip.  Standing, she allowed Hoshi to steady her with a hand across her back as they followed the others.  She watched entrances to branching tunnels, lantern hooks and sanctuary rooms passing by along with old, half rusted equipment and the gleaming new Enterprise ore canister. 

“I think,” said Malcolm, walking with Jonathan a few paces ahead.  “It should be safe enough to come back for the ore canister once we get this lot to the shuttle-pod and…”

T’Pol could not tell if the captain nodded.  But if the ore could be retrieved it would give purpose to this ordeal.  Still, she would not tell them about the other canister, sitting in the dark depths of the cavern, or anything else right now for that matter.  Talking was too much effort.

They reached the entranceway with its battered table.  She remembered coffee, apples, disgusting turkey sandwiches and the too sweet best carrot cake this side of Mars Colony. There was no need to mark a trail now.  She had only to walk beside Hoshi, with the blanket around her shoulders keeping out most of the wind that blew restless clouds across a cold, blue-green sky until the shuttle-pod gleamed through the trees ahead of them. 

With a tired sigh she sank into one of the rear-most seats as the sliding door closed out her view of Algieba.  After so much time flickering in and out of Trip’s dizzy, shimmering grey she wasn’t certain how she would have contended with the swirling dazzle of the transporter effect.  Still, to rest quietly while Travis piloted them back to Enterprise would be another matter entirely.  For this little while, nothing was required of her.  The search was over.  The captain was safe.  Trip was safe.  Malcolm could secure the ore if he chose to.  Hoshi could contact the ship and tell whoever was on duty all about it.  Doctor Phlox could…

“…take everybody down to sickbay…”

She blinked her eyes open at the cheerful sound of his voice.  He stood in the shuttle-pod’s doorway while, up front, Ensign Mayweather powered down the lights on its control panel. “Captain, you go first with Lieutenant Reed.  Ensign Sato, if you will accompany Commander T’Pol, Ensign Mayweather and I will follow with Commander Tucker.”

Apparently, the brief rest had had some restorative effect on her, she realized as she walked with Hoshi through the familiar corridors of the ship.  Much of the dream-like quality had faded.  The quiet conversations around her no longer ran together, but carried a sense of sequence.

“If you’re all right from here, Commander,” said Hoshi. “I’ll return to the bridge.”

She nodded as the doors of sickbay hissed open to admit Malcolm, Trip and Travis.

“I’ll check in with you later,” Jonathan was telling the doctor as Malcolm and Travis emerged a moment later, then started back down the hall in the direction they had just come.  “After I go to my quarters, get a hot shower and change out of these wet…”

“No, Captain,” said Phlox, stepping behind him and ushering him in.   “No quarters and especially no hot shower.  The only place you are going is to your bed, right here in sickbay!  When I ran that last check on you in the shuttle-pod your body temperature was still a significant degree below human normal.  I want to increase your core readings at a controlled rate.  Too quick a rise can cause swelling on the brain.  We don’t want you becoming as addled as Mister Tucker was there for a while, do we?”

“Addled?”  It was Trip’s voice, very tired and straining to be heard from the stretcher, but when T’Pol turned to look at him, she could see that whatever the doctor had given him had already produced some effect.  His gaze was clearer, more focused than at any time since she’d seen him before he had left for Algieba.  Obviously, his concentration had already improved to the degree that he managed to look somewhat insulted at the doctor’s turn of phrase.  It was a welcome expression.

“Besides, Captain,” Phlox went on as he moved with Jonathan across the room to swing open his office door.  “Someone has been waiting to see you.”

Porthos, who, if T’Pol surmised correctly, had been staying there for reassurance and company ever since the landing party went missing, came bounding out, ears and tail flying.  With a mighty leap he landed, wriggling, in the captain’s arms.

“All right, Doctor,” T’Pol could hear the hoarse tones of weariness in the captain’s voice, but they were warmed by affection as he snuggled the beagle against his chest.  “As long as my friend here can…”

“T’Pol?” said Trip.

“…stay here in your office.  I don’t want to leave him alone in my quarters after…” said the captain, who, accompanied by Porthos and the Doctor, was moving toward a diagnostic bed

“T’Pol…” said Trip again. 

She turned to find him looking at her.  She caught the last of his request as the captain managed a successful bargain with the doctor.  “Could you…  Come over here a minute?”

“Yes, Commander?”  She asked, crossing the room to stand by his side.

“Got something…” His words still came between shallow breaths, though the confused quality had gone from his gaze.  “In my jacket pocket.  Can’t reach…  Pulls… too much… on my ribs.  Yeah.  That’s it… Right pocket.  Will you…  Get it for me?”

Her fingers brushed across the heavy fabric, felt within the opening and encountered a hard object.  She recognized it at the first touch from Trip’s memory, a smooth stone  with clear, sharp edges.  She knew before she pulled it free that the crystal would be Cyrulinite blue.

“Kept this,” said Trip.  “To remember… our first mission in… seems like forever… with no hostilities and… no battles…  Only a chance to…”  He paused, closed his eyes and was silent for a moment as if he could read the words he wanted to say on the inside of his eyelids.  “To do what we came…  Out here for.”

She nodded.  “Because you and the captain had an opportunity for some pure exploration, is that correct?”

“Yeah, you got it.”  He didn’t move his head to nod, but kept looking up at her.  “I want you… to take it.  To remember… all you did…  To bring us back here safe.”

There it was, prickling hot in her cheeks, the constricting awareness that he was referring to what had happened between them in the tunnel.  “Commander,” she said.  “It is hardly necessary that you…”

“What you did…” Trip interrupted.  His voice was insistent.  Still, it was infinitely tired, so she did not resist when his hand caught the hem of her sleeve and gave a small, beckoning tug.  Her skin burned with shame at the memory. It wasn’t logical, she told herself.  That did not keep her from averting her gaze from his upturned one. 

“T’Pol,” Trip continued.  “I had the idea… when we were… were together in the… the…?”

“It’s called a mind meld.” The words tasted of humiliation, but she said them in a low, unflinching voice.

“Yeah, okay. The mind meld.  I had the idea… it cost you a lot to do that.  Your pride, your privacy… not sure.  A lot of it is… getting pretty blurred.”

“It was necessary,” she said.  “I do not regret it.”

No.  For his sake, the captain’s, the crew’s, she did not regret it.  But for her own?  It was one thing, down in the mine, to rail in protest against the admonitions on employing telepathy.  Here, now, she couldn’t help but wonder if, useful as the meld had been for the three of them, over all, the temptations of using such an ability could present a real danger.  How easily it could be used to invade, to torment, or to manipulate another’s mind.

She started to straighten and to turn away.  The shower in her quarters would be cleansing.  She would wash away as much of the past hours as she could, ore dust, blood, cold, and memories.

Trip’s grasp moved from her sleeve to her hand.  His fingers intertwined with hers and tugged with what little strength was in them.

She froze, then stood irresolute.  This was not something she wished to discuss.  Still, to jerk free of that weak grasp and walk away spoke of panic.  That was almost as shameful a loss of control as choosing to link with Trip in the tunnel.  There could, after all, have been other options, equally logical and less…  She searched for a word for the tangle of emotions that meld had stirred within her and failed. 

Panic, shame and this feeling with no name yet attached to it, they were all just emotions.  Deal with them, Doctor Phlox had said.  So she would deal.  She turned back to Trip and eased his hand to the blanket while encircling it within her own.  Her gaze was almost steady as it met his.

“T’Pol,” He did not give her the opportunity to speak.  “Whatever it cost you…”  He paused, thought, continued.  “Thing is…  I appreciate it.  We all… owe you one.”

“As I said, Commander, it was necessary.”

“Okay.  But if you’re… uncomfortable… with what we did… it doesn’t have to… go in your report.  I told you… where to find the captain.  You found him… got him out.  Then… the two of you… got me out…  End of story… far as I’m concerned. Even the captain… doesn’t need… details unless you wanna tell him.”

She had not thought ahead to the report. 

Maybe it was residue from the meld, the years they worked together, or that there was too much tiredness in his face for emotions to tangle its features into a confusing mask.  All she read in his blue eyes was infinite tenderness and immense respect.  The fact that he wasn’t Vulcan and didn’t know the taboos of her culture didn’t matter.  The feelings were real for all that.

“Unless I want to tell him.” She agreed.  “It will remain between us.”

It was only then that she allowed her fingers to curl tight around the blue on blue stone.