T'Pol (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
with_discipline) wrote2009-09-12 01:38 am
with_discipline) wrote2009-09-12 01:38 am
Entry tags:
47. Forget
She didn't know, beforehand, that they had borrowed her DNA for their experiment. When she found out, it was too late to object - though her objections would have made no difference in Terra Prime's actions. It did not matter that she did not know; either way, the child would have been created. Half-Human, Half-Vulcan, a child of two worlds and one Empire, welcome nowhere. She was not born of two parents, a man and woman with the patience and love she deserved; she was made, a binary clone created in test tubes, the product of hours of anti-alien campaigns, necessary as solid proof of the monstrosity of interbreeding and not meant to live more than a few weeks.
Her only destiny was most easily comparable to a lab rat. She was meant to be poked, prodded, tormented, but never live.
When T'Pol found out, it was as impersonal as possible. Along with the rest of the Enterprise's crew, she was told via broadcast from Earth. John Frederick Paxton, leader of Terra Prime, proclaimed that the clone, the child, was proof of the dangers of inter-species breeding. It was proof that the Human Genome would be polluted, corrupted, changed and obliterated. It was a warning of extinction. It was a baby girl.
T'Pol had a daughter.
She can remember the way her stomach had fallen away. It was an almost familiar sensation, one she'd experienced upon receiving word that her mother had been killed. There was a certain amount of relief that the message had come while she was alone in her quarters. That small amount of privacy allowed her hands to clench, her eyes to widen.
A daughter. A clone, but at the same time, a daughter. And the first time T'Pol laid eyes on her was during Paxton's broadcast. She looked so small, laying in an incubator, a cap over her head, almost - but not completely - hiding the points of her ears. An interim of perhaps ten minutes before she stood outside the Captain's door, finger pressing in the door chime. The Enterprise was approaching Earth again, and T'Pol fully intended to request a visit.
She did not know if it was for Captain Archer's amusement that he allowed her to go, or the fact that she found Commander Tucker already meeting with him. But she had her leave to visit the Terra Prime compound, and she had company. Perhaps Archer wanted to revel in the looks a Vulcan would receive amid humans so hell bent on a 'humans-only' Earth. Perhaps Tucker was just as eager to see his daughter as she was. It was an unpleasant experience, reaching that incubator, one T'Pol had, on occasion, endured before, and unfortunately did not doubt she would endure again.
It was worth it, when they were showed the 'experiment.'
She was beautiful.
Elizabeth. T'Les. Tucker, if she required a last name. Before T'Pol could even think to broach naming the baby, she had named her daughter. Elizabeth T'Les Tucker, who looked up at her with wide brown eyes and a quizzical look, a nose borrowed from Trip and a mouth from T'Pol. And the moment she held Elizabeth, she knew that she could not allow this to continue. She could not allow them to experiment on and torment her daughter. She didn't know how to save her yet, or if she could at all. But she could not stand idly by and forget her daughter's big brown eyes.
Her only destiny was most easily comparable to a lab rat. She was meant to be poked, prodded, tormented, but never live.
When T'Pol found out, it was as impersonal as possible. Along with the rest of the Enterprise's crew, she was told via broadcast from Earth. John Frederick Paxton, leader of Terra Prime, proclaimed that the clone, the child, was proof of the dangers of inter-species breeding. It was proof that the Human Genome would be polluted, corrupted, changed and obliterated. It was a warning of extinction. It was a baby girl.
T'Pol had a daughter.
She can remember the way her stomach had fallen away. It was an almost familiar sensation, one she'd experienced upon receiving word that her mother had been killed. There was a certain amount of relief that the message had come while she was alone in her quarters. That small amount of privacy allowed her hands to clench, her eyes to widen.
A daughter. A clone, but at the same time, a daughter. And the first time T'Pol laid eyes on her was during Paxton's broadcast. She looked so small, laying in an incubator, a cap over her head, almost - but not completely - hiding the points of her ears. An interim of perhaps ten minutes before she stood outside the Captain's door, finger pressing in the door chime. The Enterprise was approaching Earth again, and T'Pol fully intended to request a visit.
She did not know if it was for Captain Archer's amusement that he allowed her to go, or the fact that she found Commander Tucker already meeting with him. But she had her leave to visit the Terra Prime compound, and she had company. Perhaps Archer wanted to revel in the looks a Vulcan would receive amid humans so hell bent on a 'humans-only' Earth. Perhaps Tucker was just as eager to see his daughter as she was. It was an unpleasant experience, reaching that incubator, one T'Pol had, on occasion, endured before, and unfortunately did not doubt she would endure again.
It was worth it, when they were showed the 'experiment.'
She was beautiful.
Elizabeth. T'Les. Tucker, if she required a last name. Before T'Pol could even think to broach naming the baby, she had named her daughter. Elizabeth T'Les Tucker, who looked up at her with wide brown eyes and a quizzical look, a nose borrowed from Trip and a mouth from T'Pol. And the moment she held Elizabeth, she knew that she could not allow this to continue. She could not allow them to experiment on and torment her daughter. She didn't know how to save her yet, or if she could at all. But she could not stand idly by and forget her daughter's big brown eyes.