Mestral’s Legacy: Chapter 10

April 10th, 2154
An island off the coast of British Columbia

“Well?”

“I am thinking,” T’Pol answered, not entirely successful in masking her annoyance at being rushed.

“If you’re going to stand there all night, let me know so I can turn off the lights and look at the stars.” Archer watched T’Pol eye the hot tub sceptically. After spending the afternoon fixing and cleaning the mechanism he looked forward to an after dinner soak on the deck under the stars. The sun had set, the sky was clear and there was little light pollution on the island. A perfect setting for stargazing, or at least it would be except for the recalcitrant Vulcan currently scrutinizing the hot tub.

The hot water was doing wonders for his tired muscles after his morning trek to the grocery store. Even though he closed his eyes and sank deeper into the water, he could not completely relax with T’Pol standing on the sidelines.

“What’s the problem?”

“I am uncomfortable in water. I did not learn to swim during my posting on Earth.” He opened one eye to see if she was joking. As usual her face was impassive and she looked perfectly serious.

“T’Pol?”

“Yes.”

“It’s a hot tub. You don’t swim in it. You sit.”

Having laid that objection to rest, he closed his eyes again and let the swirling water attempt to ease away some of the tension that he had been carrying for the better part of a year.

“I do not have the proper attire–a bathing suit.”

“You don’t need one,” he said lazily, shifting slightly so a jet of water massaged his foot. He had missed being able to soak in water on Enterprise.

“Jonathan?”

Archer sighed, opened both eyes, sat up, and scowled at her. What is the problem? T’Pol looked at him uncertainly.

“Are you suggesting that I join you by removing my clothing?” To her credit she sounded only slightly less incredulous than if he had suggested that she eat steak tartar.

“What?” It took him a moment to reclaim the thread of the conversation. “No, T’Pol, of course not.” He was slightly hurt that she would think that he had suggested such a thing, although he could not quite quash the mental image that it provoked.

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need a bathing suit, just some clothing that you’re willing to get wet. Shorts and a T-shirt or something.”

She looked appropriately chastened at his explanation as he slid back down until the water touched his chin. Heaven. He looked skyward and was pleased to see hundreds of stars filling the night sky. Now if only he could turn the deck lighting off there would be ten fold more.

“Make a decision, T’Pol, you’re making it difficult to relax just standing there.”

After a moment he heard the screen door slide open, and then spring close again.

He was debating whether to just turn the lighting off and forget about her when she reappeared. She had put on her light grey Vulcan High Command-issued skivvies that he had seen her wear in Decon on several occasions.

Gingerly she stepped into the hot tub. He could not help but notice her surprise at the temperature as she tentatively submerged herself. I told you, you would like it. His eyes widened as the water wicked up the material of her pseudo bikini.

“Is something wrong?” T’Pol asked.

“No, nothing. Let me just turn out the lights so we can see the stars.” He hit the outdoor light switch, leaving them in the moonlight.

“Jonathan? Are you certain there is nothing wrong? Is my attire not appropriate?”

“It’s fine, T’Pol. It’s just . . . it’s not such a good idea to get light-coloured material wet.” He stared fiercely at the stars, willing the image of the wet material clinging transparently to T’Pol’s curves out of his mind. Unfortunately it was seared onto his brain and he could not get rid of it. Nor could he erase the knowledge that she found the night air quite cold, especially with wet material clinging to her–

Stop it!

He opened his eyes and stared up at the stars. To distract himself he pointed out constellations to T’Pol. She seemed less than impressed by the myths behind the star groupings but at least it focussed his mind on something else. I really need to get out more.

* * *

Judging by the sound of his breathing, Jonathan had fallen asleep forty-two minutes ago. Apparently his lack of sleep the previous night and the activities of the day had left him exhausted.

T’Pol focussed on the movement of water over her body. The warm currents moved sensuously over her skin. She could not help but hope that Jonathan would want to use the hot tub again tomorrow, and this time she would put up less of a fight at the prospect of getting in. Still, it would not do to appear too eager, even though it was the first time that she had felt comfortably warm since leaving Vulcan. At least, the parts of her that were in the water were warm.

By Terran standards the night was balmy at twelve degrees Celsius, however to a Vulcan it was uncomfortably cool. She felt a couple drops of rain on her face and slid herself lower into the warm water as a fierce breeze blew over the deck. As she did so, her foot bumped that of the Captain.

At the touch of her foot, he launched himself to a standing position. His vertical stance, however, was short-lived as he immediately lost his footing and fell back into the tub, his head disappearing below the water and generating a wave of water that soaked her in the process. He rose to the surface sputtering and coughing.

“Jonathan?”

“I’m fine,” he managed, in between coughs. “You startled me, that’s all.”

T’Pol eyed him dubiously. The Jonathan Archer that she knew was not easily startled. His explanation seemed unlikely, but he was not inclined to give a more accurate one. She let it go as the rain began to fall in earnest and they quickly decided that they had had enough of the hot tub for one night.

Wrapped in their towels, they said good night awkwardly. T’Pol noticed that Jonathan was pale and clammy, but he continued to insist that he was all right. From her room she heard him gather a glass and some ice cubes before heading to his room.

* * *

Vorak awoke in the darkness to the rumble of thunder and rain pelting the roof. A cool breeze flowed from the bedroom window bringing with it the uniquely Terran scent of wet earth. Stifling a twinge of annoyance, he rose to close the window his mate had opened in the night.

As he reached for the window, he caught the faintest whiff of something burning. There was something chemical about the smell and as it intensified he recognized it as burning electrical insulation and something far more unpleasant that his brain refused to identify. He could hear voices now, faint calls of panic. His vision blurred and he saw ghost like images of Terrans in Starfleet jumpers rushing past him. He shook his head to clear his mind. It was not the storm that had awakened him then, it was her.

Cautiously he extended his mind through their bond. It was a mistake. The ghost like images solidified around him and a crushing panic settled in his chest.

He looked down to see an Enterprise uniform with Lieutenant’s insignia and a name patch: ‘Naliek’. When his eyes reached his hands, he recoiled at the sight: they were slick with blood. The smell of charred flesh hung in the air.

‘Call Phlox!’

‘Comm’s down!’

He felt himself mouth the words ‘Get me the Medikit’

‘She’s losing consciousness’ He watched as his hands worked on an Enterprise crewmember whose hands and arms were charred.

Bits of melted plastic stuck to her finger tips, the remains of a panel that had melted. He checked for vital signs without knowing what he was looking for and yet somehow he knew the information was not promising.

Fighting to push her out of his mind, he closed his mind to their bond. After a moment he opened his eyes and found himself still standing by the open window in their bedroom. Closing it, he made his way back to the bed. He reached over to her side of the bed intending to wake her only to find that she was not there and the bed sheets were cold. A flash of lightning illuminated the room, but it was empty.

Making his way through the living room, the lightning showed that it too was empty. The rain increased in intensity, coming down in sheets that made it difficult to see anything outside. A breeze moved through the house: there was another open window somewhere.

Rain was blowing in through the large patio door in the living room, soaking the carpet. Thunder shook the house, rattling the windows. Another flash of lightning lit up the deck. Through the sheets of pouring rain he saw a figure huddled on the patio swing and then it was dark again.

He called her name, remembering too late not to use their bond, and heard others calling her.

‘Lieutenant, what do we do?’ He looked up from the patient and saw the frightened ensign.

He knew the response before he said it: ‘We do what we can. Get me the Medikit!’

The ensign stood frozen in place as another crewmember pushed past him and pulled a Medikit from the wall. He could feel the ensign’s fear permeate the room and struggled to block it out.

One thought was present among all the others, repeated in a dozen different permutations: ‘What are we still doing here? Why haven’t we left?’

* * *

They were sitting in the shower under a spray of warm water. Vorak felt her shivering subside and the images and emotions recede. She had not even looked at him when he carried her inside and placed her in the shower stall, climbing in after her. They had been sitting there for fourteen minutes.

“Did she die?” She took several slow, deep breathes before nodding slightly, the first acknowledgement of his presence.

“We weren’t supposed to be there,” her voice was barely audible over the sound of the shower, “She wouldn’t leave. She wouldn’t give the order to leave. It was only a matter of time before they found us. They didn’t have to die, we shouldn’t have been there.”

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