The Romulan War_ Beneath the Raptor's Wing (Book 1) - Michael A. Martin [191]
During the past six days, T’Pol had used all the Vulcan discipline at her disposal—a fund that she knew had been depleted by the lingering aftereffects of her former trellium-D addiction, as well as by the vestigial synaptic scars left behind by Pa’nar Syndrome—to pursue a single purpose: convincing T’Pau that she was wrong to keep Vulcan out of the fight against Romulan aggression.
But for all that effort, T’Pol had made no measurable progress, although she counted the fact that T’Pau had consented to continue the dialogue as a moral victory of sorts. It was as though the administrator had something to prove, to herself if not to T’Pol or the rest of Vulcan and the Coalition, and that apparent need had kept her talking right through a prolonged interval of what should have consisted of meditation and contemplation, in addition to the fasting and deprivation that both women were enduring.
The dialogue would have to come to an end sooner or later. Even Vulcan endurance had its limits, and T’Pol knew that every day T’Pau spent here in the desert was another day during which Minister Kuvak’s hands would wield the Vulcan government’s levers of power and influence—including those that quietly moved illicit arms shipments from Vulcan to destinations located on the wrong side of the Romulan border. But since pursuing that topic had proved useless so far—T’Pau simply wouldn’t hear it—T’Pol decided instead to pursue a different tack.
“Vulcan’s relations with the rest of the Coalition have been strained greatly by your decision,” she said, continuing to match T’Pau’s vigorous walking pace.
“That is true,” the administrator said. “It is regrettable.”
Weary though she was, T’Pol still wasn’t prepared to give up. “The damage still might not be irreparable, Administrator. However, that could change quickly should certain information become generally known within the Coalition.”
“Explain,” T’Pau said as she overcame a slight hesitation in her step. That hesitation might have marked a shred of self-doubt, or it might have merely been the consequence of a rock in the sand.
“Have you considered how much damage it would cause to Vulcan-Coalition relations should our allies discover our... unique relationship to the Romulans?”
T’Pau came to an abrupt halt and turned to face T’Pol, who planted her feet firmly as she awaited the administrator’s response.
“T’Pol, the prospect of that eventuality never ceases to haunt those few of us who are aware of it.”
T’Pol nodded. “Then you must also have considered the natural corollary of that eventuality: the assumption many would make that we have been acting in collusion with the Romulans in their aggression against the allies.”
“Believing that would require a formidable leap of illogic,” T’Pau said with a slight shake of her head.
“Perhaps not. In fact, it would not be an altogether implausible chain of reasoning, given that our collective inaction has arguably already cost many thousands of Coalition lives so far.”
“Nevertheless, it would be a most unfair conclusion.”
“Fair or not, such a reaction would be both understandable and widespread,” T’Pol said, standing her ground. “Especially given the emotional proclivities of such species as humans, Tellarites, and, particularly, Andorians. Do you not agree?”
An almost pensive expression crossed T’Pau’s pinched, sun-seared features. She seemed to be giving T’Pol’s latest argument serious consideration, or at least to be letting her guard down enough to allow herself to exhibit some doubt about her chosen course.
The moment reminded T’Pol of a passage she had read in a copy of the King James Bible that Doctor Phlox had once lent her, when she had been making a concerted effort to understand human myths. A passage in the Book of Luke had recounted a forty-day ordeal of