//------------------------------//
// Season 2 Mini-Episode 8: "Parental Concerns" 
// Story: Star Trek: Phoenix 
// by Dewdrops on the Grass 
//------------------------------//


STAR TREK: PHOENIX


S02ME08


“Parental Concerns”



T’Lona tapped the edge of her stylus against the PADD, allowing the sound to perforate her hearing so she could focus on her task. “Correctly deduced outcome of kiwi ingestion by Bolian fruitbat,” she murmured as she scanned the screen line by line. "And a properly formatted diagram. Well done, cadet. Satisfactory grade.”

She set down the PADD and rose from her desk, stretching out her limbs. Grading quarterly exams was one of her lesser preferred tasks, but there was a certain level of satisfaction to be gained from seeing her students learn the subject. Xenobiology 101 might have been a required course for every cadet, but she still managed to capture the imaginations and interest of a few cadets who would otherwise ignore the subject every semester. Rarer still were the handful of students who decided to change their career paths because of her class. Those she counted as some of her best achievements as a teacher.

But the true rarity among them all was someone like Jacqueline Cadeneza. A student not just interested in a subject but passionate about it. A student with real fire in their eyes, and a blazing certainty that this was their calling. This was the domain that they would completely master and make their life's work. Students like her tended to find a mentor in T’Lona, and it was through this mentoring that T’Lona had, for a while, thought she’d satiated her age-old desire for children. She’d entered Starfleet Academy at an older age than many Vulcans, and as she approached her second century, she’d conceded that, perhaps, she’d never have children any other way.

And then one day, Sunset Shimmer arrived in her life, and everything changed.

The instant T’Lona met that little pony, she formed a connection unlike any she had ever formed before in her life. At first it was scientific curiosity, a distinct wonder at what sort of creature Sunset was, or what kind of world could produce an equine form with such vibrant colors, to say nothing of the horn atop her head. But when Sunset spoke her unusually flowing language for the first time, the gears in T’Lona’s mind shifted. She saw Sunset for what she truly was: a scared little girl, abandoned in a situation outside of her control. It was like meeting her mate all over again.

It was never a question in her mind that she’d take care of Sunset, raise her as her own. She never told anyone this, save Amina, who shared her feelings. Anyone else would think it presumptuous, especially Sunset herself, even if the little filly had already formed a strong connection with T’Lona during their initial interactions at Starfleet Medical.

Though it didn’t stop Amina from feeling a bit jealous at times over the close connection T’Lona had with Sunset. In that sense perhaps Twilight's appearance was the universe's way of balancing the scales, because Amina took to Twilight as quickly and as strongly as T'Lona had taken to Sunset. Unlike Sunset, T’Lona was never able to quite convince Twilight to adopt the same level of self-control, especially when it came to her emotions.

Perhaps in the end that’s why things turned out the way they did when Sunset came back... and everything seemingly fell apart.

The slightest of frowns crossed her face as she sat back down at her desk to grade some more papers. She focused her attention on the newest PADD in front of her, a student’s report on their chosen experiments with felines of four different worlds and their respective instincts, but eventually she had to set her stylus aside again. She couldn’t stop worrying about her daughters and how they refused to get along, how they'd begun to tear each other down. At times she found herself wondering if their relationship could ever be repaired at all.

Worry. Overwhelm. Words that most humans wouldn’t associate with Vulcans. Most humans, and other species for that matter, assumed Vulcans were stone-hearted machines. No spirit, no emotion, no soul. Just pure logic.

Where the others saw one-dimensional machines, T’Lona saw discipline and control. Passion's mastery was her philosophy and she held to it steadfast. She had impeccable control over her emotions. But the very nature of such mastery meant admitting those passions existed in the first place, and for T’Lona, they did in abundance. 

When she first heard about Sunset’s sacrifice, she’d almost lost herself in the depths of despair, an emotional trainwreck that would’ve left a human sobbing for hours in a broken heap. The absence of Sunset left a gaping wound in her chest, festering, excruciating. Nothing she did seemed to soothe it.

But when Sunset returned, that wound filled in, leaving only the faint scars of past memories. For a time, at least. Until Twilight ripped it open anew.

Her hand twitched, her lips quivering. A sudden urge hit her, a desperate need for some spice tea from her garden. She cultivated a particular leaf from Vulcan that soothed her anxiety and tension like none other, and she needed it. She glanced over at her terminal, where the time displayed in small characters in one corner of the screen, hoping that it might be late enough she could justify leaving the office.

The numbers 13:34 blazed back at her, blinking away as if to mock her desires. She let out a defeated sigh and stood from her desk. She stood up from her desk and wandered over to the replicator. “Vulcan spice tea, and a bowl of gespar fruit.” The replicator chimed and produced the goods in a swirl of light, and she carefully took the steaming mug and bowl back over to her desk.

She stared at the mug for several long moments before she started to drink, wincing internally at the pitiful taste. Starfleet’s replicators were very good when it came to the vast majority of dishes, but she’d never met a replicator that could properly produce a good cup of Vulcan spice tea. At least the gespar was delicious, and helped to settle the gnawing hunger that had begun to grow in her belly.

As she cradled her mug, she frowned, considering her current behavior. “Curious,” she said to herself. “I seem to be losing control.”

So she shook her head, let out another quiet sigh, and set her tea cup down. Closing her eyes, she focused on her breathing, on settling her emotions. Emptying her mind of all concerns. Peace. No emotions. Nothing but pure–

“T’Lona!”

T’Lona’s eyes shot open as she muttered a quiet growl of frustration, glaring at the one who’d intruded, only to find a slight sense of relief in whom she saw. “Amina,” she said, her tone as calm and still as ever, despite her small shows of emotion. “Good afternoon. I am surprised to see you here. I was under the impression you were about to begin teaching a class.”

“I know, but this couldn’t wait. I have good news!”

Amina rushed forward, her face split by a wide smile, her arms extended out to embrace T’Lona. She stopped before actually doing so, waiting for T’Lona to nod in acceptance. It was a small gesture that others might see as awkward but T'Lona saw as endearing. Far too few humans, or others, understood just how sensitive a Vulcan’s sense of touch was. Some Vulcans more sensitive than others besides, and T’Lona… the only ones she knew who were comparable were those with neurological issues such as fibromyalgia. An unexpected touch brought real pain, like lightning surging through her nervous system. While her sense of control prevented her from crying out or doing little more than letting the corner of her mouth twitch, it nevertheless hurt. 

But an expected touch was different, and given her current state, she found herself more receptive to it than normal. So as her love embraced her and almost bounced against her in excitement, she brought her own hands up to Amina’s face, tucking one under her chin so she could plant a delicate kiss on her lips. “Any chance to see you is good news, my love.”

Amina giggled in the way that always sent T’Lona’s heart aflutter. “I love you too, T’Lona, but that’s not quite why I’m here.” She drew back and placed her hands carefully on T’Lona’s shoulders, her smile dimming a tad. “Are you alright? You were on edge this morning, but now… is something wrong?”

Inwardly, where no one could see it, T’Lona smiled. As usual, her lover saw right through her self control to the emotions T’Lona experienced within. Her ability to do so, to sense T’Lona’s true emotional state and respect it… that was what made their relationship last, far beyond the initial gratitude that Amina shared for rescuing her from her home planet.

But her curiosity was piqued by Amina’s entrance, far too much for her to worry about her own emotions at the moment. “It has been a stressful time. Which makes me curious as to what brought you here.”

“We received a video message from the Phoenix. When I saw what it was about, I had to rush over so I could share it with you.”

It didn’t take a telepath, touch or otherwise, to understand what Amina was inferring. A hope flared to life in T’Lona’s chest as she indicated for Amina to take a seat on her office couch. She switched on the wall screen and sat down. “Computer,” she said. “Please play the most recent video message sent to Commander Amina Riviera from the U.S.S. Phoenix.”

“Working. Authorization required.”

Amina bounced in her seat, her smile wide as she said, “Authorization Riviera Six November Foxtrot.”

“Affirmative.”

The screen lit up at once with an image that she had feared she might never see again. Twilight and Sunset, sitting together on a couch, nuzzling each other like they used to. 

"Hi, Mother," Sunset said, waving at the camera.

Twilight raised her hoof in her own wave. "Hi, Mom."

"Hi honey," Amina whispered, pressing her knuckles to her upper lip, tears in her eyes.

"So…. We know it's been a while since we both messaged you together," Sunset said, her face flushing red. "Between the messages we sent you individually, plus whatever official reports made it back to you from here, you’ve heard all about how we've been…" She trailed off, turning her head away.

"Fighting," Twilight picked up, with the good grace to bow her head in an admission of guilt. "And... Well, it was mostly me. We've had a lot of problems to sort out. And we're still sorting them out. But we've started to make amends."

Sunset looked back up only to lay her head against Twilight's shoulder. "We're trying, and so far it’s been going well. It's not easy for either of us. Least of all me. I've made a lot of mistakes too lately. People that I've hurt. People that I've let drift away without so much as a word from me. There's still so much for each of us to do. It took some shoves from Belle and Eresh in the end, but we found a way to apologize to each other. For real.”

"More than that," Twilight continued. "To make up, to be sisters again." Her horn lit, a soft lavender glow surrounding Sunset's wing and lifting it so it rested around Twilight like a blanket. "I was so stupid… and I'm sorry. I hurt you both too with the way I was acting."

"I'm sorry too, "Sunset said. "I did plenty of damage on my own, and I really wish I hadn't. I know you'll both forgive me too, which makes me feel even worse." She let out a bark of laughter. "But I guess that's par for the course. It's been an emotional rollercoaster to say the least."

"But we're sisters again, and we're not fighting anymore. That's what matters," Twilight said. She smiled at the camera, a smile wider and warmer than one T'Lona had seen in years. "And we've got a mission we're working on together. Using magic and technology to–"

T'Lona frowned as a black bar formed over Twilight's mouth, the audio vanishing for a moment right before a blushing Sunset shot out a hoof to cover Twilight's mouth. "Twilight, we can't talk about that. Remember? We'll have to censor that."

"Oops." Twilight's face turned the shade of curdled milk as her jaw trembled. "I-I didn't mean to...to…"

Sunset made quiet whickering noises as she ran a hoof down Twilight's withers. "It's okay, Twi. Relax. It happens. We’ll edit it out before we send."

T'Lona glanced over at Amina, whose face warred between "angry commanding officer" and "amused mother" before settling mostly in the latter.

"Right... Ahehehe..." Twilight swallowed audibly, her grin returning, albeit forced. "Anyway, we should probably get going. But before we do… I love you, Mother, Mom."

"I love you too, Mother, Mom," Sunset chimed. "We'll see you later."

As the image on the screen winked out, T’Lona’s ears caught the sound of her wife sniffling, then breaking into quiet tears. Steeling herself for the inevitable cuddling, T’Lona closed the distance and opened her arms.

Amina thrust herself forward immediately, holding onto T’Lona with an impressive level of strength. “They made up,” she burbled, even as her tears soaked the shoulders of T’Lona’s robes. “They’re together again.”

T’Lona felt no less jubilant as a heavy weight she’d carried in her heart for almost three years dissipated and vanished. She allowed her control to waver, her lips crinkling into a soft smile, the Vulcan equivalent of an ear to ear grin. “Yes,” she said, her voice shaking with a quiet, almost inaudible giggle. “Yes, they are.”

Amina cried out as she leapt off the couch and lifted T’Lona, spinning her around the room for a moment, whooping all the while before setting her down. “I can’t believe it… we didn’t even have to say anything!”

That stilled T’Lona’s heart, like a bucket of water dousing a fire. “No, though we still should have,” she said, her voice infused with a passion in her plea. “There was much we should have said. While it was ultimately their choice, they should not have had to do it alone.”

Amina drew back from T’Lona, her joy vanishing like a sand castle washed away by the ocean. “...you’re right. We made a lot of mistakes too, didn’t we?”

T’Lona pressed her lips together, one hand curling into a fist. “Indeed we did. Our… My memorializing of Sunset, for one. At the time it seemed logical to celebrate who Sunset was. However, that logic was flawed. We did not pay enough attention to the daughter we still had.”

Amina scowled. “No, no we didn’t, did we? But–”

T’Lona raised a finger and gently pressed it to Amina’s lips. “I know what you are going to say, regarding Twilight’s claim that we chose Sunset as our favorite. I do not think we can blame her.”

“But it’s not true, damn it,” Amina whispered. She held her other hand to her breast. “I love Twilight with all of my heart, as much as I love Sunset. If we’d lost Twilight instead of Sunset I would’ve mourned her the same way.”

“I know that.” T’Lona moved her hand forward to hold Amina’s in full, giving it a squeeze. “But Twilight doesn’t. Perhaps we should tell her.”

“What, just call her up out of the blue?” Amina stared into T’Lona’s eyes, the uncertainty clear as day. “T’Lona, you know how stubborn she can be. If we tell her that, she might think Sunset put us up to it, or told us what to say. Even I know she won't be logical about it at all. And if she does react like that she'll turn on Sunset all over again and they'll be right back where they started.” Amina gave a soft shake of her head "No... it's better...to give her space. Give them both space.”

Space. Yes, T’Lona was well acquainted with Amina’s idea of giving space. It was, perhaps, one of the only flaws in their relationship, as she was all too keen, in T’Lona’s mind, to push things away so she didn’t have to deal with them. And as she thought about it, something occurred to her, something Sunset implied she’d done as well.

“As you’ve given Lieutenant Smith?” T’Lona asked. Her voice turned colder, scolding, though no one save Amina would’ve been able to discern more than a trace change.

Amina frowned, pulling her hand away. “What do you mean?”

“While we believed Sunset dead, you regularly exchanged communiques and videos with Lieutenant Smith, but you have not sent a single one since Sunset’s return. Have you considered how she might interpret that?”

“What?” Amina gasped, scooting back in her chair. “What–T’Lona, how do you even know about that?”

For whatever reason, Amina’s backing away irked T’Lona to no end, causing T’Lona’s tone to turn even more frigid. “I have been tasked with keeping a close eye on communications, for security purposes due to wartime. I was not intending to violate your privacy, but while reviewing the records, I noticed that all communication between our home and Archer IV ceased four months ago, right after Sunset’s return. Why?”

“Why?” Amina’s face went through a series of emotions before she bowed her head, settling on shame. “I… I thought I was giving her space so Sunset could contact her without me getting in the way.”

“Even though you two had developed a friendship?” T’Lona arched an eyebrow. “With respect, Amina… I believe it only logical that you reach out to Lieutenant Smith as soon as possible and apologize. Consider how you might feel in her position.”

“God…” Amina sighed and buried her face into her arms. “You’re right....god but you’re right, T’Lona. What was I thinking? I wouldn't blame her if she thought I  was using her like an emotional support crutch or something this whole time. Like I threw her away when I didn’t need her anymore.”

“I know you well enough to know you would never do such a thing, to anyone,” T’Lona said, her tone warming again. “But she does not. It would be good to resolve the issue.”

Sighing, Amina said, “You’re right. I should.” She reached into her back pocket and brought out her personal PADD, tapping in a note. “There. Put in a reminder for myself to do that as soon as  we get home.”

T’Lona nodded. “I am pleased to hear that you will be taking responsibility.”

A dark look briefly crossed Amina’s face before she settled on a deep frown. “T’Lona, love… are you really that mad at me over this? Or is something else wrong?”

Sitting up straight, T’Lona’s face went blank. “I do not know what you mean. I am not upset.”

Arching an eyebrow, Amina’s frown shifted into an expression of irritation T’Lona knew all too well. “Don’t give me that crap,” Amina replied. “We just heard our daughters are getting along again, and you suddenly turned things around on me over Smith? Granted I messed that up, and I'll fix it. But something else is wrong here, T'Lona. What is it? What did I do?”

T’Lona’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “Besides the wrong you did to Smith?” she said, her voice starting to tremble ever so slightly with unrepressed anger. “Nothing.”

Amina glanced down, spotted T’Lona’s fists, and drew her arms around herself. “T’Lona… love. I know you. You’re not usually this uncontrolled. Please–”

“My control is fine,” T’Lona hissed as she stomped away from the couch and slipped back into her desk chair. “Perhaps you should return to your class, Amina. We both have work we need to focus on.”

Amina gasped quietly, hurt clearly shining in her eyes, a hurt that carved a piece of T’Lona’s heart out straight away. “...alright then, dear. We’ll, we’ll talk when we get home, okay? …I love you.” She turned and left swiftly, the doors hissing shut behind her.

T’Lona sighed as she leaned over on her desk, guilt worming its nasty way into her katra, her soul, warring with her sense of self-control. “I am sorry, my love,” she whispered as a single tear dripped down one cheek.

Disgusted by this sudden show of emotion, even if no one could see it, T’Lona furiously wiped the tear away and tried to return her attention to her papers. But her mind refused to focus, and after a good ten minutes spent reading the same three paragraphs over and over, she tossed it aside in favor of her tea mug. Frowning ever so slightly at the temperature, she drained the rest in one shot, then turned toward the replicator to order a fresh cup.

While her hands busied themselves mechanically with her actions, inside she brewed with emotion. She hated arguing with Amina, in any sense, especially when she won the argument. While she knew it was foolish, she never could stop the small sense of anxiety that bubbled away inside during moments like this, a gnawing fear that Amina would stop seeing T’Lona as a person and start seeing only the logic, only the cold outer shell.

“Ridiculous,” she whispered. A quick application of one of her favorite meditative techniques squashed the growing anxiety and buried it back in the hole it came from, hopefully for good. She knew her lover’s mind. She’d touched it on many occasions, and every time she saw Amina’s genuine love, understanding, and acceptance.

Instead her thoughts turned back to her daughters. She knew deep in her katra that the Phoenix was where her daughters belonged. If either was stripped away from it, they’d lose any chance of finding that which they’d long searched for.

A search that T’Lona herself had never abandoned. Every spare chance she had, she spent hours pouring over solar surveys, astronomy charts, gravimetric studies. She'd plotted every known singularity in all four quadrants, cross referenced with as much data from long range telescopes and subspace arrays she could get her hands on. The matrix she built up became so data-intensive she had to abandon her home computer and rent out bits of time in some of the Academy's advanced computer labs. All of it aimed at finding the singularity that helped send her daughters through that portal, and delaying Sunset along the way.

And yet she’d found nothing. Sixteen years worth of study, and it might as well have been sixteen years worth of watching paint dry for all she’d accomplished. At times the frustration was so powerful it briefly overwhelmed even her control to show itself in gripped hands or gritted teeth, or the occasional harsh word to a colleague or student.

But despite her failure, she refused to give up. Somewhere hidden in the data was the answer to her question, but the more T’Lona searched, the more she wondered if she was even asking the right question to begin with. She’d seen for herself the raw power of an alicorn, and while destroying a Jem’Hadar battleship single handedly was an impressive feat, it was orders of magnitude below the ability to manipulate the orbit of any steller body, let alone a star. Yet from the moment they arrived both her daughters have been adamant that this Princess Celestia did both by herself.

She knew Sunset’s power had only grown since she’d returned to the Federation. Proper nutrition, exercise, and a chance to practice had allowed Sunset to broaden her abilities, and while she had never since displayed the same level of energy as she did against the Dominion ship, her control improved dramatically, to the point that every so often T’Lona heard whispers wondering why Starfleet didn’t deploy Sunset and Twilight like hammers to smash the Dominion apart. 

Of course, she knew her daughters would never agree to such a thing.

According to Sunset, Celestia was over a thousand years old. T'Lona knew such extraordinary longevity was not unheard of among sapient beings, but she was almost certain that Celestia's age had no bearing on her ability to manipulate the sun. Indeed, Twilight had reminded her on many occasions that controlling the sun was the very act that made Celestia an alicorn to begin with..


As she sipped from her fresh mug of tea, T'Lona wondered if maybe this was what should have been the focus of her research. After all, the implications of a geocentric star system even existing – much less being manipulated by a single creature – were exponentially bigger than locating a specific singularity with odd temporal effects.

“Is that the question I should have been asking? What if—”

T’Lona twitched in her chair as her terminal let out a frantic beep. “Priority Three message coming in for Lieutenant Commander T’Lona from U.S.S. Phoenix.”

“Odd,” she commented as she turned down to her terminal. The priority level of the message was immediately concerning. The message that Amina received earlier had been sent through low priority channels, a common practice for non-essential communications during wartime. T'Lona estimated Twilight and Sunset had recorded that message about a week ago, if delivery times were running normally. “But a priority three…” 

T'Lona took a deep breath and focused. Logic clearly suggested that a truly dire emergency would have used a higher priority level, and those levels were restricted to higher ranking officers. Priority three messages normally reach their destination in two days or less, which suggested an important but not life-threatening issue.

“Computer,” she said after a few moments, “when was this message sent?”

“Message sent as of 0800 Phoenix time, transmission delay T plus twelve hours.”

“Only twelve hours?” Worry seeped into T’Lona’s heart. Had something happened to Sunset? Or Twilight? Or worse, both? They’d been working on something classified...

She gulped a mouthful of hot tea and swallowed it, hoping it would soothe her nerves. “Display message.”

Her screen winked on, revealing Lieutenant Cadeneza glaring angrily at the camera, her quarters visible behind her. She wore her uniform, but it was half undone, with the jacket unzipped and one arm of it dangling useless by her side. Her hair was also a mess, one that Cadeneza started working on with her brush as she spoke. “Hi, ma’am,” she said, grounding out through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry to bother you with this but I didn’t know who else I could vent to, since no one one the ship seems to give much of a damn!”

T’Lona arched an eyebrow. As with any of her mentees, she was happy to hear from Cadeneza, especially since she served aboard the Phoenix, but…why use a priority three message for something like this?

Cadenza growled, grabbing her attention again. “I don’t have a lot of time, ma’am, so I’ll cut to the chase. For some reason, Wattson decided to mess with the converter. What the hell was she thinking? Why am I asking you that? You certainly wouldn't know the answer. Hell, I don't know the answer because no one will tell me a damn thing!”

“Converter?” T’Lona repeated quietly. Her daughter’s message mentioned something about magic and technology working together. Was that what Cadeneza was referring to?

The smack of Cadeneza’s hair brush hitting something just off screen preceded Cadeneza’s next rant. “They won’t even let me see her. She’s my best friend, damn it and the stupid thing blew up in her face! I just want to see her but they’re all ‘no, she has to rest,’ ‘she was in surgery for seven hours,’ blah blah blah!” 

Groaning, Cadeneza reached out for her jacket and stuffed her arm through, zipping it up. “All I want to know is if she’s going to be okay. They claim she will, but I don’t know… Hill said she was really badly injured, but even he won’t tell me any details. I’m worried, ma’am. I’m scared for her. She’s my best friend…” 

Cadeneza sniffled. “I, I’m sorry, I know this is probably a big waste of your time, but you’re the only person I can talk to that won’t judge me over this.”

“Certainly not,” T’Lona said, despite knowing that the recorded message couldn’t hear her.

“A-and, well,” Cadeneza continued, her face flushing florid crimson. “I-I don’t know if Sunny and Sparkie told you, but they’re friendly again, and I was a big part of that. Sort of. Mostly by, uh…” She visibly cringed back from the camera and slapped a hand to her face. “What the hell are you saying, Caddy? You really about to admit that you–”

The screen abruptly winked out for a moment, making T’Lona think the message was over until it turned back on, revealing Cadeneza perfectly groomed and uniformed. “Sorry, ma’am, I would redo the rest of the message but I’m afraid I don’t have time right now. But listen, I just want to say… I’m sorry for anything I did that kept Sparkie and Sunny apart, and I’m glad they’re back together. And I’m really, really hoping Wattson’s going to be okay, a-and thank you for being willing to listen.”

Cadeneza moved her hand just out of sight. “Okay, computer, get ready to send,” she murmured as her arm twitched, showing T’Lona she was doing something with her hand.

“Confirmed,” said the computer on the message. “Message prepared for priority three sending.” 

“Wait what?” Cadeneza blurted, her eyes going wide. She reached out desperately with a hand towards the screen. “No-no wait–”

The screen winked out again, this time displaying the end of message prompt. 

T’Lona leaned back in her chair, somewhat nonplussed by this message. “Unusual for Cadeneza to be so… clumsy in her actions,” T’Lona murmured as she pondered the message’s contents. “But if she is partially responsible for my daughters reconciling, I should thank her. Though what could she have meant by…”

A probable conclusion came to T’Lona’s mind immediately, one that left her numb, with an odd taste in her mouth that another gulp of tea did nothing to wash away. T’Lona was nothing if not observant, and she’d been more than well aware of how Cadeneza looked at her elder daughter whenever she came to visit. 

Then again, Sunset Shimmer was an adult, and what she chose to do with her life was her business. T’Lona hoped, for Sunset’s sake, that she hadn’t made a mistake like she had with Smith.

And as for Wattson… T’Lona had met her many times, and found her to be a logical, reasonable individual, calming the impulses of Sunset, Cadeneza, and even Twilight at times. So what had she been doing?

“Pointless,” T’Lona muttered, shaking her head. She lacked the information necessary to reach a conclusion and there was no need to send her mind spinning in circles when an answer could be forthcoming at any time.

T’Lona made a quick note to message Cadeneza later, and returned to grading papers, though every once in a while her mind turned back to her considerations about Equus. And her wife. In fact her mind barely focused at all relative to normal, and the more time she spent staring at PADDs and marking down grades, the more her focus deteriorated. 

Finally at 17:00 she slammed her stylus down, growled at the stack of PADDs still yet to be graded, and shoved herself away from her desk. Her jaw tightened considerably as she picked up her personal belongings and rushed out the door, heading down the hallways at a quick pace, keeping her head down to avoid meeting the gaze of anyone she walked past. Each time she passed by someone her left hand curled up into a fist, only to unball again once they were gone.

She remained this tense, ignoring the one quiet call for her name as she strode over to the transporters. Her body burned like fire, far hotter than it should have given the grey, dismal weather San Francisco was experiencing that evening. As her body split into atoms and reformed in Vancouver, she stepped right into a rainstorm, which only left her feeling even worse.

Despite the cover granted by the nearby mag-lev train platform, her uniform and hair were soaked by the time she entered her front door. She bared her teeth as she clomped up the stairs, heedless of the water she smushed into the carpet with every step.

“T’Lona? Is that you?”

T’Lona ignored her wife’s call from her office and passed through her bedroom into the master bath, where she could take a shower. A cold shower, desperate to wash away the heat that still clung to her body like a pair of Tiberian bats. Yet even cranking the water as cold as it would go provided little relief from the smothering heat.

In a huff she left the shower, toweled off, then threw on a set of traditional Vulcan robes, minus the hood. The light clothing would hopefully help cool her down. 

As she trampled down the stairs, she came across Amina, awaiting her in the dining room, holding out a cup of spice tea. The aroma hit T’Lona’s sensitive nose like a freight train as she rushed forward to take it. “Thank you, my love,” she whispered as she cradled it in her hands. The heat of the tea mug leached the heat from the rest of her, allowing it to pool in the center of her stomach as she took a long swig and swallowed.

“Is it helping?” Amina asked quietly.

T’Lona nodded. “Y-yes, it is,” she said, stumbling on the first word.

“Good.” Amina sat down at one of the nearby chairs, then inclined a hand to the one opposite. “Would you like to sit with me?”

T’Lona inched forward just enough to set the mug down, and quickly took a seat so she could grab the mug before the heat escaped and flooded her whole body again. “T-t-thank you for the t-tea.”

Amina gave her a small, if watery, smile. “Of course. You are my love, even when times are trying.”

Guilt spread through T’Lona, working up from her chest and spreading out through her arms to the tips of fingers like a wave of sick. “I apologize for my rudeness,” T’Lona muttered as she continued to clutch her mug of tea. “It was uncalled for.”

Amina pressed her lips together and looked away for a few moments, busying herself at the replicator. She returned carrying a mug of some carbonated beverage that caused T’Lona’s nose to wrinkle. “I appreciate the apology,” she said as she took a sip. “And you were right about Smith. Checked my message log when I got home… turns out she’d just sent something to me, asking why I cut her off. Took me a while to put together a good response, but I sent her a reply.”

T’Lona shook her head. “That is good to hear, but that d-does not excuse my b-behavior.”

Shrugging, Amina reached out with her index and middle finger of her right hand, prompting T’Lona to reach out with her own to touch. Vulcan finger touching was a ritual often invoked as a way of expressing affection without something so blatant as an embrace or a kiss. It was a sign of respect as well, when coming from a mate who recognizes that the other is troubled. Given T’Lona’s sensitivity it was especially welcome right now.

But it was also used for another purpose, and when T’Lona’s fingers touched Amina’s, she let out a gasp as a shock rolled through her body, bringing the heat straight back and raising the temperature from a low boil to a roaring inferno. 

“Oh dear,” Amina whispered, her eyes full of recognition even as T’Lona’s breathing sped up. “I was wondering, but… I don’t understand how.”

T’Lona swallowed and shook her head. “I… I do not either. This should not be happening. It has only been six years and two months.”

“Stress, maybe?” Amina ventured.

“Perhaps. It has been known to induce it early, but...” T’Lona took in a shuddering breath, focusing on clearing her mind, forcing control back into place, jamming it in like shoving an oversized object down into a pipe. It brought her a measure of stability, allowing her to ignore her symptoms for a short while. But T’Lona knew it wouldn’t last long, especially not when it came upon her so suddenly.

Amina nodded, gave her a quick squeeze of the hand, then walked over to the nearest communications console. “As always, we'll handle this however you wish, love. We can go back to the cabin in the Tian Shan mountains in Kyrgyzstan if you’d like.”

“Please,” T’Lona said, her voice shaking just a tad. “The isolation would be preferable.”

“Alright.” Amina sat down in the chair before the terminal. “Then I think we’d better put in for a small amount of medical leave. I can cover for us if you need me to.”

“No, no.” T’Lona stepped over to stand just behind Amina, placing a single hand on her shoulder. “No, I will not hide it. Unlike some Vulcans I am not ashamed of this aspect of my biology, however difficult it may be to cope with.”

Amina winced. “Still... alright then. I just hate to think what’ll go through Musa’s head when he sees this request cross his desk... that man’s lack of tact–”

“Will trouble me not at all, nor should it trouble you, my love,” T’Lona said as Amina swiftly brought up the requisite form and filled it out. Without hesitation T’Lona reached forward, signed the bottom of the form, and sent it off.

Within a few minutes it came back, signed and approved. T’Lona stood at once. “We should get going… the sooner we handle this, the better.”

Amina yelped as T’Lona closed the distance between them, wrapping an arm around her tightly. “O-oh. Yes, we uh, well, we should, shouldn’t we?”

“Yes,” T’Lona said, her voice ever so slightly tinged by a pant. “It is coming upon me more rapidly than normal.”

“Okay, right. Computer!” Amina called out. “Request an immediate taxi to the Vancouver Transit Hub and charter a private shuttle to await us in Bishkek, authorization Riviera Six November Foxtrot.”

“Acknowledged.”

“We’ll be there soon, T’Lona,” Amina said, patting T’Lona on the arm as they descended the stairs and out the front door, where their requested taxi was descending, the automated vehicle opening its doors to allow them in. 

“Good… good.” T’Lona focused her mind on control, on calm, centering herself, struggling to maintain control even as hormones flooded her body. She hadn’t experienced a pon-farr with this rapid an onset since her very first, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she worried this was a very bad sign for her health. But in the forefront even that worry was slowly being obliterated, replaced by pure need.

But she was T’Lona. Control… she could maintain control. Get to the cabin. The cabin.

“I’m here,” Amina whispered as the taxi whisked them up in the air and across the city in a hurry. “I love you. I won’t leave.”

“T-thank you,” T’Lona mumbled. She’d already begun to lose the ability to speak clearly. Soon she’d be upon Amina almost like a wild animal, no matter her control. 

Then again, she mused, as she glanced over at Amina, who wore an excited, if worried, smile, she knew her mate would not mind. 

T’Lona shifted over in her seat and laid her head against Amina’s shoulder. Swallowing, she managed to summon up her words enough to mutter “I… love you too.”