Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, and gain no profit in writing this.
a/n: It was my intention that the title refer to the literal meaning of Coup de Grace –the merciful death –.
And thanks to Rinne for having the patience to beta this!
Soft darkness peacefully blanketed the moonlit bay. A city slept nestled in the foothills of an imposing mountain whose jagged peak loomed high above. A wind that gently rustled the treetops was also the author of small ripples quietly lapping the bay's shore. Bright stars glittered in the rich black mantel above. No lights were lit in the settlement below, and all was still.
In the main square of the civilized settlement, a beautiful white building rose high above the others. Its lush green grounds were carefully marked off with a black iron fence. A lone figure patrolled the obvious perimeter, with slow measured steps.
Suddenly yellow lamplight flashed in a window above, and it spilled across the well-manicured lawn below. But no sooner than it had burst forth, was it extinguished. The guard looked up; heavy curtains were brusquely moved back into position by nervous hands.
"What are you thinking?" whispered one woman to another; hurriedly yanking shut the heavy window dressings. "There are the guards to consider!" She paused, rubbing the delicate bumps that ran in ridges along her brow.
"I-I'm sorry!" the other one, clearly younger stammered, wringing her hands anxiously, as she looked distractedly about. "I just wanted to see where they were…exactly." The elder did not chastise her, for she did not envy the task her friend would have to carry out.
They were both clothed in plain dresses, dyed a deep red. The older frowned at the younger, "We must be calm. Come, I've gotten the blankets. Hurry." They quickly proceeded down a grand hallway that had been decorated by a refined eye. The pair took no notice of the niceties surrounding them.
At the end of the corridor they came to a large wooden door. With a short knock, the first woman entered.
She was met by a glittering knife held to her throat. "M-m'lady!" the woman gasped out. Instantly the knife was lowered, and the maid was roughly released by a disheveled looking young woman. She moved agitatedly away, as more figures in red ushered two in, and secured the door once more.
"Three! I told you three knocks, not one." The young women held up three fingers as she spoke. Her hands were stained with blood, though she had no obvious wounds.
"Forgive us, much has happened tonight," said the older, tersely, and moved towards a far corner of the room.
The young woman raked a hand through her tangled, dark hair; it contrasted the torn and bloody white garment she wore. She walked, a little unsteadily towards the large rumpled bed that was situated in the middle of the sleeping chamber.
On a white pillow lay a small bundle. She looked fondly down at the sleeping infant, then, carefully lifted the child and carried him across the room. Gently, she deposited her burden in the arms of the younger attendant. "Take him, quickly; you know what you're to do," She whispered.
The girl nodded, and whisked the child out the door.
There was a small huddle of attendants in a corner of the room, surrounding some shape slumped against the wall. The dark haired young woman moved towards them. They were hurriedly wrapping something large.
"M'lady! He's coming!" a panicked woman whispered loudly.
The young woman's eyes flashed. "Hide him!" she ordered, pointing at the slumped shape. She carefully arranged herself in the rumpled bed. They rushed to comply. "Dim the lamps!" she hissed as heavy footsteps could be heard approaching. The door was thrown open, the flurry of activity instantly stopped.
A tall, dark shape drew near.
"Alea, they said there was trouble. Where is the doctor, where is my son?" asked the menacing male figure as he approached the bed.
Her eyes did not meet his. "M'lord," she began, her voice trembling, "the child did not live. The doctor… he has fled in shame."
He stood stock still for a moment, then nodded. "I see. I'll send for another to attend you," He said, noting the large amount of blood that stained the bedding. He turned stiffly and walked out of the room.
Alea, held her breath to the count of ten, listening to his footsteps recede, before expelling it slowly. "Quickly, get rid of the good doctor before the next arrives," she ordered, "and this along with him." She said handing one of the women the silver knife. "No one need know what happened here tonight."
Twenty years later
"Hoshi! Hoshi!" Malcolm called, shouldering his way through a large, hot and tightly packed alien marketplace. He was dressed in the same garb as the humanoid beings that swarmed around them.
She paused, a few yards away, and waited for him to catch up. "Sorry, I didn't realize I'd gotten so far ahead," she apologized, eyes straying to a table full of colorful textiles.
"We should try not to get separated," he said sternly, trailing her as she picked through the brightly dyed cloths. He looked about distractedly.
"What do you think of this one?" She held up a small bright green blanket.
"Erm, it's nice," he said absently, barely glancing at it. Trip and the Captain were late. They had arranged to meet here nearly half an hour ago.
"I think I'll buy it," she said with a decisive nod, before turning to converse with the vendor. Malcolm took a few steps away, looking about the bustling square. The suffocating chaos left him ill at ease. Something about how easily they had been able to move about undetected left him paranoid, and constantly looking over his shoulder. "Don't worry Sir, I'm sure they're fine," she said, joining him, and easily accounting for his tense expression. He noticed the newly acquired possession draped over her arm. "We just finished faster because I don't need to use the UT."
"What difference does that make?" he asked without genuine interest, as his eyes continued to sweep the crowd.
"There's a difference," she informed him, gathering the coarse, dull blue robe she wore out from under her feet.
"There they are," Malcolm said, brow relaxing as he spotted the two men making their way through the throng.
Trip followed the captain closely through the tightly packed square. The entire operation had gone off without a hitch, but he couldn't shake the sudden misgivings that filled his head. It had all been so easy. They had know that the sale of plasma was strictly prohibited on this planet to anyone other then government officials, and it had been tricky, while not impossible, to find any one willing to do business with them.
"Did you get it?" Malcolm asked as they drew closer.
"Yep," Trip nodded, "twelve liters, and if you two got the rest it should be enough to replenish our supply." With a sidelong glance at Archer, he added, "Well, so long as the Cap'n doesn't plan on trading anymore of it."
Archer looked back at him mildly. "Not at the moment, but I won't make any promises."
"Here," Malcolm said, discreetly passing off the sack he'd been carrying to Trip, who casually slung it over a shoulder. "I suggest we get back to our transport point, Captain," Malcolm said quietly.
"Yeah," Trip agreed. The three looked at him in surprise. He suppressed an awkward smile, but just offered a small shrug. "Does anyone else think that was too easy?"
"It went fine Trip." The Captain brushed aside his concern.
Malcolm muttered something almost unintelligible, but clearly in agreement with Trip's assessment as he led the way through the masses.
"I like that color," Trip commented, plucking at Hoshi's purchase admiringly.
"Thanks. Malcolm thought it was nice too," she said passing in front of him as they tried to work their way around those who had stopped abruptly in front of them to inspect merchandise.
Suddenly, Trip felt a strong hand land on his shoulder and something sharp pierce his neck, but before he could turn around, the entire world seemed to be going sideways. As realization of the situation hit him, he tried to call out, but he felt himself crashing to the ground. The attempt was too little to late, he dimly saw the other three disappear in the crowd before everything went dark.
"Archer to Tucker." No answer. "Trip." Archer looked in frustration over at Malcolm, who shook his head as he studied his scanner's display.
"I'm having a hard time locking onto him, Sir," he said.
Hoshi looked out from the darkened alcove they'd ducked into, her eyes roamed through the bustling crowed. "He can't be too far, he was right beside me," she shook her head, brow wrinkling slightly.
"I don't understand," Malcolm muttered, more anxiety coming across in his voice than he would have liked, as he continued trying to get the scanner to work. "We could have Enterprise try to locate him."
The Captain nodded, "Archer to Enterprise,"
"Enterprise, go ahead Captain."
"We need an exact location on Commander Tucker, we're having a little trouble with our scanners down here."
"Commander Tucker appears to be moving North through the square. but our scanners seemed to be experiencing some kind of disruption, he's fading in and out."
Archer cast a pensive look behind him towards the square. "Can you lock on to the rest of us?"
"There is some odd interference, but better then we seem to be able to with Commander Tucker."
"Try and figure out what the problem is, Archer out." He turned. "You and Hoshi go wait at the transport point in case he heads there, I'll see if I can't locate him here."
"Sir," Malcolm began to protest.
"Malcolm, I'll be fine. Contact me if you see him," he said, melting back into the crowed.
The bridge was quiet. Travis shot an amused glance towards Hoshi's station; an over-excited ensign filled her seat. He looked absolutely thrilled to be sitting on the bridge. Travis tried to hide his smile as T'Pol entered. No sooner had she stepped onto the bridge then the ensign spoke up. "Sub-Commander!" he squawked as though he'd been poked with a pin. "A vessel is dropping out of warp, and we're being hailed!" he said, looking up at her excitedly. A barely detectable frown touched her mouth.
T'Pol stepped out into the center of the room. "On screen."
The ensign fumbled with the controls momentarily, T'Pol looked over at him. Travis thought for a fleeting moment that she was going to ask if he required assistance, but luckily for the ensign the image of an alien appeared before the bridge.
"You have entered a restricted region of Emocian space, please state your business," demanded a pale, long- faced alien.
"I apologize. We were unaware anyone other than the inhabitants of this planet occupied this region of space," she said calmly.
"This planet is not evolved enough yet to make interstellar contact. Please depart from the system immediately."
"We are in agreement with that assessment, and will be leaving the system as soon as our crew members return from the surface."
This information seemed to cause the Emocian great agitation. "You sent your people down?" he said visible tensing, voice becoming strained.
"I assure you they are able to move about undetected. There is minimal risk of cultural contamination. Our plasma supply is nearly depleted; we had to replenish this essential supply. There is a large quantity of it on this planet." She explained placidly.
The alien scowled. "This is unacceptable. You will leave this system in twelve hours, whether or not you can recover your crewmen." The transmission was cut.
a/n: Should I go on?
Reviews of all sorts are most welcome! And most appreciated!