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Date: Sun, 30 May 2004 18:07:07 -0500
Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW ENT: Tomasu 1/1 (A/Tu, PG-13, E2 spoilers)
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Title: Tomasu
Author: Gigi Sinclair
Email: gigitrekslash@canada.com
Website: www.angelfire.com/trek/gigislash
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Archer/Tucker
Spoilers: E2
Summary: Lorian has issues.  No, other ones. 

Notes: The title is from the Vulcan Language
Institute's website, and is apparently the Vulcan word
for kinsman or family member. They have many
interesting Vulcan words over there, including
translations of breakfast, zoology and lesbian.  But
that would be a different fic.   


Lorian had never asked his mother how she felt about
Captain Archer.  He didn't know why.  Archer had died
when Lorian was twenty-one and still too caught up in
himself to use that situation as an excuse to bring up
the past, but there had been plenty of other
opportunities over the last few decades.  

Archer was remembered as a hero by the whole crew; they
still celebrated his birthday, with a dinner and party
and speeches from Karyn and Rick, in their role as
Archer's descendants.  Lorian disliked the Archer Day
celebrations, they served only to remind him how much
time had passed since Annika Archer had died, but one
of them would have been an appropriate moment for him
to broach the subject with his mother.  But he never
had, and now it was too late.  The day they'd been
waiting for had arrived.

"You must find Jonathan Archer."

Lorian knew that.  He'd known it for years now.

Lorian also knew there was no way he could keep his
crew from wanting to see the other "Enterprise" and its
original crew for themselves, so he didn't even try. 
He was just as eager to visit the ship himself.  Lorian
couldn't remember ever seeing Malcolm Reed without the
distinctive streaks of grey in his hair, or Hoshi
without Todo or Yoshiko, and then, later, without at
least one of her grandchildren in tow.  Even Travis
Mayweather looked different than he had when he'd
taught Lorian to climb rocks on the small, uninhabited
planet they visited for their annual shoreleave.  

The man Lorian most wanted to see, though, was his
father.  

Out of loyalty to her grandmother Annika, and because
she was a damn fine officer in her own right, Lorian
brought Karyn Archer along when they first set foot on
the old "Enterprise."  It was much newer and shinier
than the ship on which Lorian had spent his entire
life, but it lacked the personal, home-like feeling of
their "Enterprise."  It was only natural, Lorian
supposed.  This wasn't a family ship, it was a vessel
of war.

Lorian expected Archer to be skeptical of what they had
to say, he wouldn't have been Captain Archer otherwise.
But even as Lorian explained their existence to the
clearly disbelieving captain, he wondered when Trip
would appear.  If Lorian knew his father, he wouldn't
stay away for long.  

***

By the time Lorian was ten years old, there were seven
other children on "Enterprise." A school, run by Liz
Cutler and Amanda Cole Phlox, had started up a few
years earlier, but since he was four years older than
his nearest peer Lorian had never attended.  He was
taught by all the adults on the ship. He had lessons in
military history from Malcolm Reed, in physics from
Jonathan Archer, in navigation from Travis Mayweather
and in languages from Hoshi Sato.  

The rest of his education came from his parents,
including physical education.  He was playing catch
with his father in the shuttle bay one afternoon when
Trip said, seemingly out of nowhere,

"You like ice cream, right, buddy?"  

"Yes," Lorian agreed.  He did, particularly the
chocolate variety.  "Can we get some?"  T'Pol
discouraged ice cream, except on special occasions.

Trip smiled.  "Maybe later.  You also like chocolate
cake, right?"  

Lorian nodded and lunged for the ball.  He missed, and
it clanked against the metal floor plating.  Lorian
bent and threw the baseball back to his father, who
caught it neatly in his glove.  One day, Lorian
promised himself, he'd be as good as his dad.  At
everything.  

"I like lots of things."

"Right," Trip nodded.  "That's what I'm trying to say. 
Sometimes you feel like ice cream, and sometimes you
feel like cake, right?  It doesn't mean that one's
better than the other, they're just different." 

"Yes," Lorian agreed, hoping that would make Trip seem
less uncomfortable.  It didn't.  Instead, Trip caught
the ball, took off his glove, and sat on the high bench
against the wall, motioning for Lorian to join him. 
Lorian did, hoisting himself onto the bench and
swinging his feet.  

"Lorian, I love your mom."  Trip paused.

"She's like ice cream?" Lorian ventured.  He'd learned
about symbolism in Vulcan literature from his mother,
and in Superman comic books from his father.  

Trip laughed.  "Yeah, I guess you could say that. And
she loves me, too.  But after two people have been
together for a long time, sometimes they get kind of
bored of each other.  They, um, they want cake instead
of ice cream.  Do you...do you understand, buddy?"

"Yeah."  Lorian knew he was smart, his parents told him
so all the time.  He understood perfectly, and he
didn't want to.  He scuffed the toes of his shoes on
the floor, then wiped his nose on his sleeve, even
though Mom hated it.  "Who's the cake?"

"Jonathan."  

"Oh."  Lorian knew Trip was waiting for him to say
something else.  Lorian liked Jonathan well enough.  He
told Lorian stories about his own father, Henry Archer,
and about Earth, and he let Lorian walk Porthos
sometimes.  

"Are you going to go live with him?"  Jonathan's wife
Acelia had left five years earlier, taking Shuttlepod
One and leaving the infant Annika behind.  Malcolm had
been furious at the loss of the shuttlepod, but no one
had been upset about Acelia.  As T'Pol had told Trip
when Lorian knew they thought he was asleep, "This is
much less surprising than the lack of judgement the
captain exhibited in marrying her."

"Not right away.  There isn't a lot of room with Annika
and Porthos.  I'm going to move into Major Hayes's old
quarters for a while."  

Because Major Hayes had moved in with Malcolm.  Malcolm
had been almost giddy since, which surprised Lorian. 
Major Hayes didn't seem like he'd be a lot of fun live
with, but then, neither did Malcolm. "This has nothing
to do with you, Lorian.  You can come and stay with me
whenever you want, and we'll see each other all the
time, OK?  I love you."  Trip put his arms around
Lorian, and Lorian hugged him back tightly.  It was a
small ship.  Lorian knew Trip wasn't going anywhere,
but it still felt like he was leaving.  

Trip ruffled Lorian's hair and drew back.  "Want to go
for that ice cream now?" 

"OK."  Lorian jumped off the bench and picked up his
glove and ball.  "When do you move?"

"I'm taking my stuff over tomorrow after my shift. 
Hey, maybe I'll take the baseball equipment, too.  Your
mom doesn't like it cluttering up the quarters.  Then
we could play it when we're together."  Trip smiled,
but he looked a little sad.  In the mess hall, Lorian
gave Trip the cherry Chef always put on top of his ice
cream, but not even that seemed to cheer him up.

>From a distance of a hundred and five years, maturity,
and personal experience of marriage and fatherhood,
Lorian could understand how difficult that decision had
been for Trip.  His parents very rarely fought in front
of him, but given their personalities, Lorian had no
doubt there had been many terse, logical and passionate
arguments while he was otherwise occupied.  His parents
did love each other, but his mother was just as happy
when she was alone, and his father was happier when he
was with Jonathan.  As an adult, Lorian could see that.


As a child, Lorian had spent at least three nights a
week with his father, and often with Jonathan and
Annika as well.  His parents stayed friendly, they had
to on a ship of that size.  Lorian was reasonably
happy, until an accident in Engineering changed
everything.

***

Lorian had spent a lot of his adult life thinking about
what he would say to his father if he had the chance to
speak with him again.  There was a lot Lorian wanted to
know about his father that his mother couldn't tell
him, and there was a lot Lorian wanted to share with
Trip as well.  

He wanted Trip to know about his wife Diandra
Mayweather, and about their son Charlie.  He wanted to
tell Trip how, after Jonathan died, the captaincy of
"Enterprise" had passed first to T'Pol and then to
Lorian himself, and how Lorian tried to make Trip proud
with every command decision he made.  

He wanted Trip to know about Annika, too, Trip's
surrogate daughter who'd spent thirty years as
"Enterprise"'s first officer and as a single mother of
three after her husband Nicholas Hess died in the line
of duty.  Lorian wanted to tell his father everything,
and as soon as Trip stepped into the room, he knew he
wasn't going to tell him anything, because he wasn't
Trip.  

"Lorian, this is Commander Tucker," Archer introduced
them awkwardly.  Lorian almost laughed at the look of
disbelief on Tucker's face as he took in Lorian's ears.
"You'll need to tell him what has to be done."  

"Yes, sir."  Lorian stood and politely extended a hand
to the ridiculously young-looking man in front of him. 
"A pleasure to meet you, Commander Tucker."  

Tucker blinked.  "You, ah, you can probably call me
Trip."  Lorian smiled.  He wasn't Lorian's father, but
he was still Tucker.  


"It's the strangest thing.  I look at you, and I see my
father.  Right here, around the eyes." 

Trip had said the same thing to Lorian, many times.  It
was one of the reasons why Lorian and Diandra had given
Charlie the old family name when he was born. 
According to Malcolm, who had met Junior Tucker in
Florida years earlier, Charlie looked even more like
Trip's father than either Trip or Lorian did, despite
his light brown skin and his slightly pointed ears.

"Now the ears," Tucker continued, "Those are your
mother's."  Lorian smiled, which seemed to surprise
Tucker.  "Wait a minute.  You smiled."

"I wasn't raised with the same ambitions most Vulcans
have," Lorian explained.  His familial situation had
been a little outside the Vulcan norm, too.  "My human
side has allowed me to find a balance between emotion
and logic.  I've even been known to tell a joke on
occasion."  Although generally not ones that other
people found funny.

Lorian enjoyed working beside Tucker; it reminded him
of the few times Trip had taken him into the engine
room.  He'd been too young to absorb most of what Trip
tried to teach him, but he had enjoyed being with his
father, sharing part of the world that excited Trip so
much.  When they were both grown up, Annika had told
him she'd felt the same way when Jonathan let her sit
on his lap in the captain's chair.

"I learned almost everything I know by studying your
engineering logs," Lorian told Tucker, leaving out that
it was Annika's mother-in-law, Lieutenant Hess, who had
filled in the blanks after Trip was gone.

"Pretty dry reading," Tucker replied.  "I hope I gave
you some hands-on training as well."

Lorian paused. They'd all known this "Enterprise" crew
would be as curious about their descendants as Lorian's
crew was about their ancestors, but Lorian didn't think
it was wise to spell out all the details of their
future lives.  If this didn't work, this crew would be
living those lives, and Lorian didn't know if it was
right to spoil the surprises.  But he couldn't lie to
his own father, even if he wasn't his father yet.

Lorian had known time travel was complicated, he'd just
never known to what extent.

"I'm sure you would have.  We should re-initialize the
start-up routine before going to warp six."  Lorian
hoped Tucker would leave it at that, but of course he
didn't.

"There's something you're not telling me."

Where, Lorian thought, do you want me to begin?  "You
died.  When I was fourteen."

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure we should be discussing the future."  And
Lorian didn't want to delve into the past, not into
that painful memory.

Tucker hesitated.  "It can't have been easy, growing up
without the old man around.  I'm sorry I wasn't there."
He sounded so apologetic over something that wasn't
his fault, that wasn't even him, Lorian felt a surge of
sympathy.

"You were a good father."  It was the truth.  Lorian
had loved him very much.  He just hadn't realized how
much until Trip wasn't around anymore.  

***

Lorian was staying with his mother the night it
happened.  He spent the afternoon working on the paper
about Horatio Nelson he'd researched for Malcolm, then
he picked Annika up from school.  She was being
particularly annoying that day, Lorian remembered, but
Annika had spent most of her childhood being annoying. 
She followed Lorian around when he least needed it, she
reported everything he did back to their fathers, and
when Lorian complained, all Trip would say was, "A
little sister's the greatest gift in the world, buddy. 
Appreciate her while you can."  

Annika was ten years old by that time and perfectly
capable of looking after herself, but Trip had asked
Lorian to take care of her when he and Jonathan weren't
home.  So, knowing both Jonathan and Trip were on the
delta shift, Lorian took Annika for dinner in the mess
hall, stoically ignored her when she whined about not
wanting to eat her peas (as if Lorian gave an Xindi's
dorsal fin whether she ate them or not) and took her to
movie night.  

Once she got there, she wanted to sit with her friends,
Diandra Mayweather and the older Phlox twins, so Lorian
took advantage of the situation to duck out.  He went
back to his mother's quarters, fully planning to go
back and get Annika when the movie finished, only to
find T'Pol sitting on the couch beneath the Vulcan
tapestry.

"Hello, Mom.  I thought you were on the gamma shift." 
Lorian tried to sound calm.  In all likelihood, she
didn't know he was supposed to be watching Annika. 
This situation could still be salvaged.  

"Must you call me that? I've told you I detest
nicknames."  T'Pol snapped.  

"Sorry, Mo...Mother."  Lorian blinked. 

Suddenly, T'Pol stood up and crossed the small
quarters, pulling Lorian to her and squeezing hard. 
His father was by far the more demonstrative of his
parents; Lorian couldn't remember the last time his
mother had hugged him.  This wasn't a hug, though. 
T'Pol clung to Lorian like he was the lone fixed object
in a depressurized cargo bay.  When Lorian squirmed in
protest, T'Pol loosened her hold and looked down at
him.  "Lorian, your father is dead."  

In later life, Lorian wondered if a euphemism mightn't
have been appropriate, just this once.  But that wasn't
T'Pol's way.  Lorian stared at her for a long moment,
trying to understand.  He was still struggling against
what he thought the word meant and what it couldn't
possibly mean in connection with his father, who was
young and energetic and whom he'd had cornflakes and
toast with at breakfast, when T'Pol continued, "There
was an accident in engineering.  Phlox tried his best,
but nothing could be done."  

"Where is Jonathan?"  

T'Pol didn't show any emotion, but when had she ever? 
"I believe he is with your father's body."

"I have to get Annika."  That was the first complete,
coherent thought to come into Lorian's head, and he
latched onto it.  "I'm supposed to be watching her. 
Dad asked me to watch her."  

T'Pol was briefly silent, then said the words that,
five years later, she would repeat under depressingly
similar circumstances.  "I doubt the captain will
return to his quarters tonight.  You must bring the
girl here."    

"Here?" Annika never came to T'Pol's quarters.  

"Trip considered her to be your sister," T'Pol said,
like it was obvious.  "I will care for her until
Captain Archer is able to do so.  It is my duty to your
father.  It is logical," she added, as if she was
trying to convince herself of it.  

At the time, Lorian had been too caught up in other
feelings to think anything of this gesture, but looking
back, it was a turning point in more ways than one, for
both him and his mother.  It was the first time T'Pol
made a decision based on values that were more human
than Vulcan.  After all, pure logic would have said
that the Phloxes, who already had seven children and
were well experienced with caring for them, or Malcolm
and Hayes, who lived just down the hall from Jonathan,
would take Annika in until Jonathan was back.

***

"You took Archer to see her?" 

"I was following orders, Lorian." Karyn Archer sounded
taken aback that Lorian would even question her.  "Your
mother wanted to see Captain Archer, so I took him to
her.  I didn't think there was anything amiss..."

"Of course there wasn't."  Lorian sighed.  His mother
was her own woman and always had been.  If Karyn hadn't
brought Archer to her, then T'Pol would have gone to
Archer, Lorian knew that.  "I just..." Just what?
Wanted to be there?  Not particularly.  "Thanks, Karyn."

That was a dismissal, but Karyn chose to ignore it. 
Which was one of the problems of being related to your
first officer, and just about everyone else under your
command.  "Are you OK, Lorian?  It can't be easy for
you, seeing them again.  If you wanted to take some
time..."

"I'm fine."  Lorian said, firmly.   

Karyn looked uncertain, but she left, and Lorian let
himself into his mother's quarters.

"Lorian."  T'Pol was in her usual place, at her desk by
the window.  "I hear you have spoken with Trip."  

"I hear you've spoken with Jonathan."

"Yes.  He looks just as I remembered him."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I believe you know very well."  Another typically
T'Pol response.  Lorian was a hundred and fifteen years
old.  He thought he should know how to deal with his
mother by now, but she annoyed him as much now as she
ever had.

But if that was the way she wanted it, Lorian decided,
then that was what she would get.  Lorian came around
so T'Pol had no choice but to face him and asked the
question he'd avoided for over a century.  "Do you
resent him for taking Dad away from you?"

T'Pol didn't hesitate.  She just raised an eyebrow. 
"Your father was not a possession.  He went to Jonathan
of his own free will."

"And you resented that."

"Not in the slightest.  As you are aware, I maintained
a solid friendship with Trip, which was all I ever
wanted from him.  Sexually and romantically, your
father was much more compatible with Jonathan."  

Lorian didn't want to think about sex, his father and
Jonathan at the same time.  He'd spent most of his life
avoiding those very mental images.  Instead, he
concentrated on T'Pol. "How can you say that, Mother?
He was your husband and he left you for another man. 
Not even you can tell me you weren't a little bit angry
at Jonathan."  

"I was not."  T'Pol looked at him evenly.  "But perhaps
you were."

"That's ridiculous.  Jonathan was a second father to
me."  Soon after Trip had moved out of their family
quarters, Jonathan had even officially invited Lorian
to dinner, all by himself, in the captain's mess.  Over
hamburgers and fries---Jonathan's version of ice cream
and baseball---he had explained that he loved Trip and
he wanted to be part of Trip's family. 

"Then why," T'Pol asked, "Do you speak so rarely of
him?"

"He's been dead nearly a hundred years, that's why."

T'Pol was unimpressed.  "Trip has been dead even
longer, yet you frequently mention him.  The others
never knew Jonathan, yet they celebrate Archer Day
annually, and though you are captain, you do not
participate."

"It makes me think of Annika," Lorian replied
automatically, the standard response he gave when Karyn
or Rick or someone asked him the same question.  "She
was my little sister.  I miss her." 

"Of course."  T'Pol clearly didn't believe a word. 
"Although I do not recall you participating in the
celebrations when Annika was alive."  

"You're impossible, Mother."  As he turned to leave,
Lorian expected T'Pol to call some equally irritating
maxim after him, but she was silent.       

***

Trip's funeral was held in the cargo bay, the only room
large enough to fit everyone but the two or three
crewmembers who couldn't leave their posts, even
briefly.  Lorian had known his father had a lot of
friends, but he hadn't expected this.  Everywhere he
turned, people were freely expressing their emotions. 
Even Malcolm's eyes were red, and Hayes had his hand on
Malcolm's shoulder.  For them, that was the equivalent
of making out in public.

T'Pol, Annika and Lorian sat in the front row, Lorian
at the end, which meant he was next to the casket.  It
was closed, and it didn't take much for Lorian to
imagine it was just a box and that at any moment, Trip
would come into the cargo bay and ask what was going
on.  But that was an illogical sentiment, and Lorian
forced himself to put it aside.

In the three days since Trip had died, Lorian had only
seen Jonathan once, briefly, when he came by T'Pol's
quarters to talk to Annika.  The captain looked worse
than Lorian had ever seen him, and in the fourteen
years Lorian had been around, the crew had been through
a lot of difficult situations.  There were dark circles
beneath Jonathan's eyes and Hoshi hovered by his side,
for once without a child or two hanging off her. 
Jonathan barely seemed to notice her.  He barely,
Lorian thought, seemed to notice anything.

Jonathan stood at the front of the room for what seemed
like hours, but logically, Lorian knew to be only a
minute or so.  Lorian felt Annika slide her hand into
his, but he didn't pull away like he normally did.  

"Trip," Jonathan finally said, "Was a great man, a
great engineer, a great father, and a great friend.  He
will be missed."  Jonathan's voice cracked.  

There was another long, awkward silence as Jonathan
obviously tried to control his emotions.  Trip had
always told Lorian that emotions were a good thing,
that expressing them was healthy and normal and
something that should never make Lorian feel ashamed. 
Now, though, comparing the stoical T'Pol to the pain
Lorian felt in his chest and the anguish evident on
Jonathan's face, Lorian had to wonder who was better
off.

Even as Lorian thought it, his mother stood and went to
the captain's side.  For a moment, Lorian wondered if
she was going to do the unthinkable and hug him, but of
course she didn't.  Instead, she turned to face the
crew and said, "Trip was a man with an inordinate
fondness for enjoying himself.  Were he able to express
a preference, I believe he would wish us to remember
him with humour rather than with sadness.  I, for
example, will choose to recall the moment he and
Lieutenant Reed were transported back from the
automated repair station at an unexpected moment,
rematerializing on the bridge in front of my station. 
The look on Commander Tucker's face was not one I will
forget."  

Lorian had heard the story before, from Trip.  He
didn't think it was that great, but seemed to be the
funniest thing the crew had heard in a long time.  When
the laughter had died down, Hoshi told a story Lorian
hadn't heard, about some homemade liquor and a Fourth
of July party at the Warp Five complex.  

By the time the service was over, nearly all of the
senior staff and many of the engineers had shared their
memories of Trip.  Malcolm even told a story about he
and Trip getting mugged in a bar and ending up in their
underwear in a basement.  Annika laughed with the rest
of the crew, although Lorian doubted she could
understand the humour in the situation since it escaped
even him, and Jonathan smiled.  Lorian didn't know why.
Nothing had changed; Trip was still dead.  Lorian felt
the way he had three days ago, like he'd fallen down
the Jeffries tube again, only this time the pain was
inside.  Jonathan's eyes looked the same, but he was
smiling and laughing and talking about camping in
Australia.  

It hurt even more when Lorian realized he couldn't ask
his father to explain this subtlety of human emotion to
him.      

***

"You should have told me.  My ship could be destroyed."

Lorian had expected Archer to be upset when he found
out the details.  For years, Archer had been that way,
obsessed with having control over every aspect of "his"
ship, "his" mission.  It was only after Trip was dead
that Jonathan let other people make real decisions and
have real power.

"There's only a twenty-two percent chance of an
overload."  

"I'd call that a damn big risk."  He put out his arm
and grabbed Lorian, which, unlike the reaction, took
Lorian by surprise.  Archer had never touched him, for
any reason.

Lorian shrugged him off, and Archer didn't persist. 
"There's no alternative.  You'll be thrown into the
path if you try to use the corridor."

"I've got two T'Pols who disagree with you."  Archer's
arrogant expression and the angry tone were new, as
well. His mother's meddling, however, was all too
familiar.

"The Kavalans will attack 'Enterprise' the moment it
enters the nebula." Lorian spoke clearly and precisely,
to make sure Archer understood.  "If they damage your
manifolds, the corridor will de-stabilize."

Archer wasn't interested.  "It's our best option."

"You have to listen to me."  

"It's my mission.  My decision," Archer replied
petulantly.  My father, Lorian added silently, and
could have killed himself when he realized it.

So T'Pol had been right again.  That did absolutely
nothing to improve Lorian's mood.

"Saving Earth is my mission as much as yours."

"I didn't come over here for a debate."  Which was
fine, Lorian thought, since this childish refusal of
Archer's to even contemplate options was nothing like
debating.  "I've already given the order.  Trip's
short-handed in Engineering.  If you could spare a few
people, he could get the work done faster."  

Lorian forced himself to override his emotional
impulse, which was to punch Archer out, and like a good
Vulcan, channelled it into a polite response.  "You're
the captain."  And, he added, in a less Vulcan-like
sentiment, it's a damn good thing there's no one alive
who remembers you as you really were.  Archer Day
celebrations would have taken on a distinctly different
tone.


"You should never have spoken to Archer."  Minutes
later, Lorian strode into his mother's quarters to find
her sitting serenely on her bed, waiting for him.  

"He had a right to know the risks.  Why didn't you tell
him?"  Of course.  It was Lorian's fault the man was
incompetent and irrational.

"If they use that corridor, their mission will fail. 
Earth will be destroyed."  

T'Pol shook her head like she was disappointed, which
was icing on the cake as far as Lorian was concerned. 
It got even better when she said, "You're allowing your
human side to get the better of you."  Which side is
that, Mother? The one that wants this mission to
succeed? Or the one that loved Trip enough to feel
something towards the arrogant prick who'd taken him
away?  Of course, no Vulcan would stoop so low as to
care about either one.

"You know nothing about being human."  

T'Pol stood suddenly, steadying herself on Lorian's
shoulder.  Furious as he was, Lorian couldn't bring
himself to move away, not even when she poked his chest
for emphasis.  "I know that for them, guilt can be a
powerful motivator.  Don't let it cloud your judgement."

Lorian looked at her evenly.  He had nothing to feel
guilty about.  "Maybe you'd be a little more concerned
if Vulcan was in danger, and not Earth."  That was as
good an exit line as any, so Lorian used it, feeling
some satisfaction that T'Pol stared after him. 

***

T'Pol never touched him if she could avoid it.  For
years, that had seemed normal to Lorian.  During her
brief time on the ship, Acelia hadn't taken much
interest in Annika, either, and Lorian thought that was
the way things worked.  Mothers were for talking about
philosophy and for reminding you to study your Vulcan
verb conjugations; fathers were for playing baseball
and telling ghost stories under a blanket tent and
hugging you when you watched a scary movie and making
you laugh when you fell down a Jeffries tube and Phlox
was stitching you up.  It seemed logical to Lorian,
until he was six years old and Amanda Cole, who had
never struck Lorian as a particularly emotional person,
had her first set of twins.  

Trip took him to see the babies.  Later, Lorian learned
Trip and Amanda had had a brief affair when they first
entered the Expanse, but there was no tension between
them.  Amanda held the twins the entire time Trip and
Lorian were there, smiling, laughing and cuddling them
as Phlox beamed proudly, looking like there was nothing
she'd rather be doing and nowhere she'd rather be.  

To Lorian, this was a most unnatural way for a mother
to behave.  Fascinated, he decided to conduct an
experiment.  When he and his father got back to their
quarters, Lorian went up to his mother, who was looking
over a PADD at her desk, and put his arms around her. 
Immediately, T'Pol stiffened, patted Lorian quickly and
awkwardly on the shoulder, and drew away, asking,

"Have you finished your report on Phlox's bat?" 

"Yes, Mother." It was a confirmation of Lorian's
hypothesis, but strangely, Lorian didn't feel validated
by that.

Later, when Trip was putting him to bed, Lorian decided
to mention it to him.  "Why doesn't Mother love me the
way Amanda loves her children?"  

Trip paused briefly, then went back to folding Lorian's
clothes.  "Your mom loves you plenty."

"She doesn't show it."

"Well," Trip put the clothes on Lorian's shelf and
picked up his pointy-eared teddy bear, a gift from
Jonathan when Lorian was born.  "Your mom's not real
big on touching.  Believe me, buddy, I know.  But she
loves you a lot."  He passed the bear to Lorian, who
lay back on his pillows.  Trip pulled up the blanket
and kissed Lorian on the forehead.  "So don't worry,
OK?  You and I can do that other stuff all we want. 
It'll be our special thing."

And for four years, it was just that.  As he got older,
Lorian was less likely to admit it, but he liked having
a special way of communicating with his father.  Even
at ten years old Lorian would go to Trip for a
comforting hug or a goodnight kiss.  It hurt when
Lorian went to Trip's new quarters and found him on the
couch with Jonathan, kissing him with what even a
twelve-year-old who had never seen it before knew was
real love.

***

If he wanted to save the Earth, there was only one
thing Lorian could do.  As expected, this plan met with
more than a little resistance from his senior staff.   

Both Karyn and the head of security, Lieutenant Randy
Weir, were openly against Lorian's plan to force Archer
to act responsibly.  Lorian wasn't surprised.  It
wasn't their fault.  They'd been raised to worship
Archer, but that didn't mean Lorian had to fall into
the same trap.

"How are we supposed to reach Degra?" Weir pointed out.
"We can't sustain warp six, our injectors are too old."

Randy Weir was one Phlox's little experiments, an
attempt at diversifying the gene pool.  DNA samples had
been taken from all of the original crewmembers who
hadn't reproduced, and were preserved until they could
be randomly combined and implanted into a donor egg.  

Thirty-five years ago, Randy had been born using this
technique, raised by Leoni Weir, and no one was
supposed to know who his biological parents were.  From
his looks, his career orientation, and his attitude,
though, it was fairly easy for Lorian to deduce who the
DNA donors had been.  Lorian only wished he had time to
show Malcolm and Hayes their son.  That would have been
a moment worth savouring, but they all had to make
sacrifices.

"We're going to use the injectors from Archer's ship."

"Do you expect him to simply give them to us?" Karyn
all but rolled her eyes.  

"No."

"You're going to steal them?" She sounded, Lorian
thought, exactly like Annika.  She even continued in
that same condescending, know-it-all tone.  "Their warp
drive will be disabled."

"My father's a resourceful engineer.  He'll be able to
fabricate new injectors."  Lorian had no doubt about
that.  Trip could do anything.

"You're asking me to betray Jonathan Archer."

Yes, Lorian agreed silently, but he's not all he's
cracked up to be.  "I know this won't be easy, but
we've had to make difficult choices before.  Our
parents and grandparents lived and died aboard this
ship to ensure that someday we'd be able to stop the
Xindi.  This is our time.  If Earth is going to
survive, we have to act."  Randy and Karyn exchanged
looks, but they didn't argue any further.

Eric Kemper and Nathaniel Mayweather were two of
Lorian's best engineers, and they knew how to work
fast.  Lorian brought them with him into Archer's
engine room, leaving Weir and Sandra Money to do the
sneakier part and reroute the plasma.  

Lorian's plan had been for them to remove the warp
injectors and get back to their own ship before any of
Archer's crew knew what was happening.  That went out
the window when the door opened and Tucker came in.

"Hold your fire."  Kemper was quick on the draw.  He
stunned Tucker's companion before Lorian could put out
a hand and stop him.

As Tucker yelled, "What the hell are you doing?",
Lorian's comm sounded and Weir informed him the flow
had been diverted.  Shit, Lorian thought, then briefly
wondered what his mother would make of such a human
epithet.

"Get back to the ship," he ordered Weir, then told
Kemper and Mayweather to do the same.

"We won't be able to go to warp without those
injectors," Tucker protested.  

"Archer gave me no other option."

"Take some advice from your old man.  You don't want to
do this."

Lorian didn't.  But he wasn't about to let Archer
destroy their only chance of finishing what Lorian had
promised Trip he would do.  When Lorian said, "I'm
sorry," he was sincere, and when he shot Tucker, he
wished more than anything that it had been Archer
instead.

They'd barely stepped back on the ship when Archer was
hailing them.  Lorian told Kyoko Sato to ignore the
hail, and a moment later, the ship rocked.

"They're targeting our nacelles," Karyn told him.

"Go to warp."  

"They've knocked out the starboard power coupling."

Lorian had expected nothing less.  "Get us out of here,
full impulse."  He went over to Weir's station. 
"Return fire."  

They were evenly matched opponents, and Lorian could
imagine the other T'Pol making some dry quip along
those lines.  He braced himself against the helm as the
ship shook again.  "Bring us in low, beneath them." 
Lorian had spent his entire life on this ship.  He knew
where its weaknesses lay.  "Target their hull plating
relays."  

"Sir," Weir, who was usually cooler than Lorian under
pressure, sounded upset.  "Our weapons are losing
power.  Archer's using the transporter.  They've taken
one of our EPS manifolds."

Lorian hadn't expected that.

"We're losing main power," Karyn put in, helpfully, as
the lights cut out.  

He could still do it.  Part of him, the human part that
always sounded a lot like his father, wanted to show
Archer just what this "Enterprise" was capable of. A
hundred and five years ago, Lorian had been a
ten-year-old boy with no means of recourse when his
father told him he loved Jonathan Archer.  Now, though,
the power was Lorian's, and Lorian would very much
enjoy letting Archer know that.

But if he did, Lorian's logical, reasonable, Vulcan
side continued, their mission would fail again.  They
needed Archer and his crew.  Lorian had to choose which
was more important, saving the world or getting
personal revenge on Archer.

And revenge, Lorian realized, as he stared across the
dimly lit bridge, was what it all came down to.  T'Pol
was right, he resented Jonathan Archer.  The question,
it seemed, was how much? 

"This is Captain Archer."  Archer's voice cut into
Lorian's thoughts.  "It looks like we've got some
things that belong to each other."  No, Lorian thought,
you had someone that belonged to me.  "Why don't we
call a truce and return our respective property?"

Lorian turned to Weir and, ignoring the gnawing pain in
his stomach, motioned for him to lock the remaining
torpedo onto whatever would do the most damage.

Of course, Reed knew what Weir had done as soon as he
did it.  Damn shame they can't meet, Lorian thought. 
There was one father who'd be proud of his son.  

"I know," Archer continued, "You've got your finger on
the trigger.  If you fire that torpedo, you're going to
hurt a lot of people here."  He paused.  "Lorian. 
Answer me."  You're not my father, Lorian replied
silently, even as Karyn turned to him with a wide-eyed,
imploring expression.

"We can't do this."

Lorian knew how difficult it must be for her, but she
didn't know what he did.  She couldn't.  "There's too
much at stake."

"These people are family."  Lorian knew that.  They'd
raised him.  But Archer had come between Lorian and the
first person he'd loved, and when that person died, the
rest of the crew gotten on with their lives. Lorian had
never filled the hole Trip had left. Even T'Pol had
never shown any interest in Lorian as anything other
than someone to be moulded into a new Vulcan, which he
could never be.

"I'm not going to let you kill them."  Karyn stood. 
"Captain, it's over." 

It wasn't, but looking at her, he knew exactly what she
meant.  It wasn't worth it.  Logic dictated the mission
was more important, and quickly, before those illogical
thoughts could come back, Lorian ordered,

"Stand down weapons."  

Annika and her descendants always had been the voice of
reason.  Lorian had sometimes thought she should have
been T'Pol's daughter, but he wouldn't have wished that
on anyone.

Lorian went over to his captain's chair, the place he'd
felt most secure since he'd taken over the position,
and, trying not to choke, said, "Tell Archer I want to
talk."

***

Reed boarded the ship with two MACOs by his side.  The
MACOs drew their weapons while Reed strode up to Lorian
and held out a pair of restraints.  

Karyn opened her mouth like she was going to protest,
but Lorian shook his head.  He couldn't stop Randy Weir
from jumping up and snapping, "That won't be necessary."

Reed glanced at Weir and Lorian could have sworn he did
a double take, although he regained his professionalism
nearly immediately.  "I'll decide what's necessary."  

"Sir..." Lorian knew Weir would do anything to protect
his captain, including opening fire on the boarding
party.  

"Stand down, Lieutenant Weir," Lorian ordered.  At
least one of them should be able to get out of this
without shooting his father.

Weir got what Lorian had always known as the "Hayes
expression", the one that showed he was equally pissed
off at Reed and at Lorian and was making an effort to
restrain his contempt for both of them.  Lorian ignored
him, as he always did when he got that look, and held
out his wrists to Reed.  

Reed snapped the restraints on, but not too tightly,
and Lorian knew that was as much as a reprieve as his
family background was going to get him.  


Lorian had seen the inside of their brig several times,
under slightly different circumstances.  The one on
this "Enterprise" was in better shape, but if Lorian
remembered his ship's history, they hadn't used it very
much by this point.

Lorian had been there less than an hour when Archer
showed up and immediately started berating him like,
Lorian thought, Lorian was an attitudinal child again. 
Lorian reminded himself of the reason he was here,
gritted his teeth, and endured.

"You were lucky," Archer snapped. "Phlox says injuries
on both ships were minor."  Good for Phlox.  He'd
managed to leave instructions behind to create Randy
Weir, but he hadn't been able to help Trip when he'd
needed it.  "You almost crippled us.  My mission would
have been over."

"Your mission is over, Captain.  You just won't accept
it."  Because Archer only accepted what he wanted, and
he didn't rest until he got it.  Which was admirable,
in some ways, Lorian had to admit.  Just not in any way
he personally appreciated.  "I took the only logical
course of action."

"Attacking your ancestors doesn't sound very logical to
me," Archer replied, apparently forgetting that a
father didn't exactly qualify as an ancestor.  Oration
never had been the captain's strong point.

"You wouldn't understand.  You can't."  Thanks to
Jonathan, Lorian knew all about Henry Archer.  He'd
been obsessed with the warp five engine to the
exclusion of all else, including his family, but
Jonathan's mother had more than made up for it.  Lorian
remembered hearing Jonathan talk nostalgically about
her waiting for him when he got home from school,
reading poetry and talking together over a pitcher of
lemonade and a plate of cookies.  Jonathan didn't know
what it was like to have no one at all. He may not have
had his own father, Lorian thought, but he'd sure had
Lorian's.

After Trip was dead, Lorian spent much less time with
Jonathan.  Even Lorian had to admit that wasn't all
Jonathan's fault.  Lorian had done his part as well,
withdrawing from everyone for nearly seven years, but
when he was older, Lorian knew that if Jonathan had
made an effort to stay close to him, to make him feel
like he was still part of Jonathan's family even though
Trip was gone, things might have been different.  

But Jonathan didn't make an effort.  He barely spoke to
Lorian, even when they met in the hallways, and the
dinner invitation that had come when Jonathan was
starting his relationship with Trip was never repeated.
It was Annika who finally sought Lorian out, coming up
to him when he was doing homework in one of the
observation lounges.  

"Don't you like me any more, Lorian?"  She blinked at
him pathetically, then belied her actions by flopping
down on the couch beside him.  "I miss playing with
you."

Lorian didn't look up from his PADD.  "I'm fourteen,
Annika.  I don't play."  

Annika considered this.  "Then how come you always
catch me in tag?"  Lorian didn't answer her, but Annika
persisted.  "Do you miss your dad? Because I miss him,
too.  He used to tell me really funny stories.  But
it's like your mom said, it's better to be happy when
you remember him.  He was a happy person.  I wish you'd
be a happy person, too."  

The concept of falsifying one's emotions to comfort
another was a concept foreign to Vulcans, but Lorian
understood it very well.  He forced a slight smile. 
Annika grinned and threw her arms around his neck. 
Lorian hugged her back, but he still felt empty inside.

Not that he was about to explain that to Archer. 
Instead, Lorian told him a much more recent anecdote,
about the time he'd encountered the probe and failed to
destroy it.  He mentioned the promise he'd made to
Archer on his deathbed, leaving out that this was the
first time in years he and his captain had spoken
meaningfully to one another.  Archer seemed sympathetic
as he listened, even going so far to call it "our"
mission in the end.  Lorian didn't reply and, a moment
later, Archer continued,

"I spoke with your first officer.  Commander," he
hesitated.  "Archer.  She was very eager to speak with
me, actually."  Lorian wasn't surprised.  "She told me
you're a great captain and I shouldn't hold this
against you."

That was Karyn, and her father before her, and Annika
before him.  Loyal above all else.  Lorian didn't know
where that came from. It certainly hadn't been either
of Annika's parents.

"Lieutenant Weir backed her completely.  Very
forcefully, in fact.  I think his exact words were, 'if
you lay a hand on the captain, I'll take more than your
injectors, sir'"  

Great.  "He didn't mean it, Captain.  He sometimes lets
his emotions get the better of him."

Archer looked amused.  "I know a few people like that,
Captain.  Your crew is very fond of you.  You're
clearly an admirable leader."  He looked steadily at
Lorian.  "I would much rather work with you than
against you." 

Lorian had no desire to work with Archer, but a lot of
people, including his father, had died for the mission.
It would, he told himself, be illogical to let his
personal feelings cloud his appreciation of that. 
However easy, and however satisfying, that clouding may
be.

If he kept telling himself that, Lorian thought, at
some point he might actually believe it.

"Yes, Captain."

"Good." Archer nodded briskly, then hesitated again. 
"Is it, ah, is it just me, or is Weir..." He stopped,
but Lorian could fill in the rest of the sentence for
himself.

"Yes, Captain."

"Oh."  Archer's eyebrows furrowed as he considered
that.  "But he's also..."

"Yes," Lorian repeated.  "Phlox was very concerned
about genetic diversity."

Archer gave a non-committal grunt, which had been more
or less Lorian's own reaction to Randy Weir.


The ready room on this "Enterprise" was very much like
the one on Lorian's ship.  T'Pol hadn't it changed it
much when she inherited it from Archer, and Lorian had
done even less.  The only thing he'd added was another
model "Enterprise", this one including their
modifications, that had been made by Charlie when he
was about eight.

Archer sat Lorian at the table and left the room. 
Lorian was waiting for him to come back when the door
slid open and Tucker walked in.  He stopped when he saw
Lorian.  Lorian stared back for a moment, then looked
away.  "The captain will return shortly."

"OK."  Tucker hesitated, then grinned.  "I should have
known you'd be a hell-raiser."  

Lorian felt himself blushing, and forced himself to
regain his composure.  "I am sorry I shot you."

Tucker shrugged.  "I've had worse. Although not from my
family, I'll give you that."

"I made an erroneous decision."  Just as he had when
he'd, briefly, valued personal revenge over the
mission.  That wasn't what Trip would have wanted.  

Tucker looked at him for a moment, then said, "God, I
wish my dad could have seen you.  He'd be tickled
pink."  

Lorian knew it was unwise, but he said it anyway. There
was only so much enforced logic a person could handle
in a day. "My son resembled your father much more than
I do."  

"Your son?"

Lorian nodded.  "Charlie."

"No kidding."  Tucker grinned.  "I guess I was gone
long before he showed up, huh?" Lorian nodded.  About
fifteen years before.  "Damn, I'm sorry about that. 
Though I guess you and your mom were glad to have the
extra room.  I don't know how you guys managed in those
tiny quarters."

"You moved out when I was ten."

"What?"  Tucker sat down across from Lorian, his PADDs
clattering onto the table.  

Well, Lorian thought, here was his chance.  "You are
Mother divorced.  You moved in with Jonathan not long
afterwards."  Less than six months, despite what Trip
had said about there not being enough room in
Jonathan's quarters.  

"Are you serious?" Lorian guessed this was a rhetorical
question.  "Damn," Tucker repeated.  "And I was just
getting my head around me and T'Pol."  He blinked. 
"But I guess Jon kind of makes more sense."  He looked
up at Lorian, so much guilt on his face Lorian had to
say, 

"I still saw you very frequently."  Tucker didn't seem
any less devastated.  "You stayed friendly with Mother."

"That's still got to be hard on a kid." Tucker's smile
came back briefly.  "Even a half-Vulcan one."  

Lorian looked away, embarrassed.  Still, this was his
father he was talking to.  "I was jealous," Lorian
admitted, glad his mother wasn't around to hear it.  
It sounded strange, saying the words out loud.  "But as
I grew older, I appreciated the difficulty of your
decision."  He may have never forgiven Archer, but that
wasn't Tucker's fault.  "You were still a good father."

Tucker stood and collected his PADDs.  "I always
figured that was a two-way street."  He grinned again. 
"Charlie, huh?"

Lorian nodded.  "Charles Tucker Mayweather.  Finest
pilot we've ever had on board."  

"That isn't too hard to believe."  

The door slid open again, and Archer came in.  "Ah,
Trip.  You've got the plans I asked for?"

"Yes, Captain."  Trip looked at Archer for a long
moment, so long that Archer glanced between Trip and
Lorian.  

"Am I missing something here?"

Tucker shook his head then, to Lorian's surprise,
winked at him.  "No, sir.  Jon."  Jon frowned, but Trip
had already left, and Lorian wasn't about to explain it
to him. 


The plan was fairly simple, which was fine with Lorian.
The more complicated things were, the greater the
opportunities for mistakes.  Not to mention that there
was something satisfying, in a very illogical, human
way, about using the Expanse itself to deceive the
Kavalans.  Lorian had lived with the anomalies his
whole life.  It seemed like justice to finally use them
to his advantage.

T'Pol was waiting in the shuttle bay when Reed returned
Lorian to his ship.  This was unusual in itself.  She
rarely left her room these days, and Lorian had thought
it unlikely she would ever speak to him again after the
un-Vulcan-like attack on Archer's "Enterprise." 
Especially when T'Pol knew very well the real
motivations behind that attack.  Lorian didn't mind. 
It wasn't like they'd ever had a lot to talk about.

"Mother."  Lorian nodded politely and moved to pass
her.  

She held out a hand.  "If I may have a word, Lorian."

"I'm kind of busy right now, Mother."

"This will not take long.  It is important."  

Lorian glanced at Karyn, who looked back at him
meaningfully.  Clearly, she was on a roll today.  "I'll
be on the bridge momentarily, Commander."  Karyn
nodded, and Lorian turned back to T'Pol.  "Yes?"

"If you will accompany me to my quarters."  She turned
and left before Lorian could reply.

"What you did was most illogical," she started, as soon
as Lorian crossed the threshold.  

Lorian sighed.  "I don't have time for this."

"However," she continued, as if he hadn't spoken, "From
your eagerness to return to the bridge, I assume you
have succeeded in developing a plan with Captain
Archer."  

"Yes."  

"That is good."  Lorian felt an eyebrow rise of its own
accord, and dragged it firmly down again as she went
on, "You have never been a Vulcan, Lorian."

And just like that, she was back to normal.  Lorian
bristled.  "I know."

"Nor did I wish you to be.  Vulcans can be slow to
adapt to change, and that has always been one of your
greatest strengths." Lorian wondered if that was a
compliment.  "If it had not been, I would not have
encouraged Trip to pursue his affair with Jonathan."

"What?"  

T'Pol seemed unaffected by Lorian's surprise, but he
would have been shocked if she had shown any emotion. 
"He began a sexual relationship with Jonathan shortly
after the departure of Acelia.  You were perhaps too
young to remember that."  Lorian remembered Malcolm
having a very public fit about Acelia's theft of the
shuttlepod, and Jonathan's refusal to track her down to
reclaim it.  Later, Lorian assumed Jonathan didn't want
to see her again, under any circumstances, and was
willing to sacrifice a shuttle to make sure he didn't
have to.  As an adult, Annika had felt the same way.  

"But that was years before he left us."

T'Pol inclined her head.  "Vulcan appetites in that
regard are vastly inferior to those of humans.  You
likely experienced something similar with your wife." 
Diandra had always been much more interested in sex
than Lorian was, but he was about to tell that to his
mother.  "It did not concern me that your father would
seek sexual and emotional satisfaction elsewhere.  But
as you know, Trip's conscience was very strong.  He did
not feel it was appropriate to maintain our marriage
and his relationship with Jonathan simultaneously, and
informed me he intended to break things off with
Jonathan."  

T'Pol went over to her desk and opened a drawer.  "I
advised him to reconsider.  His affair with Jonathan
was something both had long desired, but Trip felt his
duty to you was greater than his devotion to Jonathan."
T'Pol held out a small metal frame, and Lorian looked
at a picture of Trip, Jonathan and himself, aged about
twelve, standing beside the warp coil.  One of Trip's
hands was on Lorian's shoulder, while the other rested
on Jonathan's arm.  "I told him you were mature enough
to understand, and I was not mistaken."  

Lorian didn't look up from the picture, where Trip's
love for both Lorian and Jonathan was obvious on his
face and in his body language.  "Thank you, Mother." 

"Which is why you are not Vulcan.  You were able to put
your father's happiness above your own convenience,
even as a child.  Such flexibility is a human trait.  I
am proud you possess it.  As I am proud of you."  She
hesitated, then touched Lorian on the shoulder. 

Lorian couldn't resist.  Smiling, he pulled his mother
into a hug.  T'Pol endured for a moment before she
stiffened and Lorian let her go.  "I should get to the
bridge."  He paused.  "Would you like to join us?"  

She hesitated for a moment, as if she was considering
it, but shook her head firmly.  "I trust you to do what
is best for the mission."  

"Yes, Mother."  He smiled, then, to show he had
listened occasionally during her Vulcan lectures,  "The
good of the many outweighs the good of the few."

Both her eyebrows went up and her mouth opened and
closed soundlessly before she recovered and replied,
"Indeed." 

Lorian had never asked his mother how she felt about
Jonathan Archer, but, Lorian realized it didn't matter.
His father had loved him, had loved both of them.  And
while that didn't mean Lorian was about to lead the
ship-wide parade next Archer Day, it did mean he was
willing to risk his own ship to let Archer complete the
mission Trip had wanted to see succeed.  

It was, after all, both the logical and the human thing
to do.  
  

[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]



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