Trip tucker wasn't a racist, in fact, some of his best friends had come from ethnically different cultures. But Vulcans… It wasn't that he hated them, it was just something with that stuck up superiority crap. He knew they were technologically advanced and all, way beyond earth's capabilities anyway, but did they have to shove it in every time they screwed up? His muses were eventually interrupted as the Vulcan in question, assigned to them by the High command, appeared in the doorway. Her expression was unreadable, predictably, and her stiff body language was indicative of all Vulcans. Trip couldn't help but feel a twang of jealousy as he assessed the first officer, he thought sardonically. Hell, if they didn't need those star charts so bad, he'd be second in command. But he supposed it wouldn't be so bad, soon enough she'd be off the ship and back to whatever Vulcan thing they do. It'd be relief for her too, he bet, away from all the immature humans. "And this is Commander Tucker". Trip immediately snapped out of his reverie, Archer's introduction bringing him back to the ready room. He smiled genuinely, what the hell, he might as well attempt a friendly greeting. "My friends call me Trip", he extended his hand, well aware of their distaste for the humanoid greeting, he didn't want to appear too friendly anyway, he was still pissed about the job. Her eyebrow rose in the typical Vulcan gesture, and her nose wrinkled slightly, probably his primitive odors, he smirked nonchalantly. "I'll try to remember that, commander". He wasn't going to let that one slide, he was about to make a snide remark when Archer beat him to it. "ah yes, Vulcan females have an acute sense of smell, if I remember correctly." "Well I got a shower this morning cap'n, how bout you?" Grinning, archer didn't respond, just shook his head slightly in amusement. Trip's attention shifted back to T'pol, she appeared almost irritated, if one could say such about a Vulcan. If that had elicited an emotional response…perhaps this assignment wouldn't be as nerve wracking as he'd originally thought. A grin lit his face as he walked towards engineering, mind already swarming with smarmy comments.
Meanwhile on Romulus:
"We mustn't strike now!" the voice was followed by several more, eventually the whole chamber room was arguing in a heated attempt to display dominance. V'hlas seethed inwardly, the incompetent fools couldn't even pretend to have dignity. A resounding crack echoed, as V'hlas took the butt of his dagger to the table. The voices silenced instantly. Drawing himself to his full height, V'hlas glared penetratingly at every member, more than one shifted their gaze. "The directions of the founders were quite clear, we will not allow the humans to become a threat, their presence must be eliminated." He paused a moment, letting his authority seep in. "Anyone who challenges the will of the founders, speak now." His challenge was met with downcast eyes and murmurs of consent. V'hlas smiled wickedly, fools had one endearing trait, they were easily controlled. "Long live the empire!"
Back on Enterprise:
Captain Archer reclined an inch, his bridge shift was almost over, the thought of a hot shower and a good night's sleep improved his mood, if only so slightly. The day had been utterly uneventful, with the engines holding steady, no aliens to greet, and no scientific phenomena, the only challenge had been dealing with T'pol. It seemed as if she was purposely trying to annoy him. He smirked, hell, she might even be attempting to get him to show some incredibly irrational human behavior, just so she could remove him as captain. His amusement faded as he realized he wouldn't put it beyond the Vulcans to pull something like that. He shook his head, he couldn't think like that. He was the captain, he couldn't allow bigotry to affect his decisions, besides, he had an example to set. "Ensign Mayweather, do your scanners detect anything-" he searched for a professional word, "interesting?" He grimaced, that wasn't very captain like. "No sir!" Archer glanced in surprise at the eager crewman, he looked as if he was about to implode. "Relax ensign, no need for theatrics". The boy deflated instantly, his face relaying the shame he felt at being embarrassed in front of the entire bridge, and the captain himself, no less. Archer was about to apologize, then caught himself, it wouldn't do any good for the captain to appear, indecisive. He reassured himself of that, as he glanced at the now fidgeting ensign. He sighed, this was more complicated than it should be…
Commander Tucker blew out a frustrated growl. He'd be damned if those idiots in spacedock knew the first thing about warp mechanics. For the last 4 hours he had been fine tuning all major systems on the ship except life support, and he definitely wasn't in the mood for fun. "Hess! Check the EPS grid, I'm reading power fluctuations." "Sure thing chief". Trip shook his head in amazement, Anna had easily been working since his shift started, and yet she still seemed eternally cheerful. He didn't know if that should piss him off or make him kiss her, either way it probably wouldn't cheer him up. He was still muttering obscenities to himself when the ship was rocked by a series of violent shudders…
Aboard the Romulan vessel Pl'tagh:
V'hlas eyed Enterprise critically, he had read reports on the human ship, but somehow he had still expected it to be a little more, impressive. For a species destined to wipe them out, you might think they'd at least have shields. "What is the earth vessels status?" The soldier at helm responded promptly, eyes giving no indication of the fear he harbored, specifically for V'hlas. "Hull plating reduced to 56 percent, weapons coming online now". Glaring at the opposing ship, V'hlas almost pitied them, almost. "Fire phasers"…
Back on Enterprise:
"Lock phase cannons and return fire, ensign!" Archer struggled to be heard over the explosions, his brow sweating profusely. "Sir! There's nothing to lock onto!" Archer cursed the incompetence that would get them killed, how the hell could there not be a ship?! He was knocked out of his chair by an exploding panel. Staggering up, he shoved the unconscious tactical officer away from his post, manning the weapons himself. "Sub commander report!" Tpol's demeanor, frantic for a Vulcan, looked to a human as if she were in slow motion. "Confirmed, source of weapons fire is inconclusive". "Dammit!" Slapping the comm, the captain all but screamed, "Engineering! We need warp and we need it now!" The response that crackled back was incoherent, and as Archer gazed at the now de-cloaking warbird, he realized it was over. Earths first voyage into the interstellar community, a mission of peaceful exploration, ended by an enemy they couldn't even see. Oblivious to the screams around him, the showers of sparks and disfigured corpses on the ground, all went unheeded as the tears welled in his eyes…
Aboard the Andorian vessel Kumari:
"Commander, I'm picking up weapons fire about 2 light years away" Looking up from the status report in his hand, "What are the configurations?" Talla's eyes never left the console, "One Romulan warbird, another ship of unknown configuration". Shrans Antenna flattened instantly, Romulans never bode well. "Plot an intercept course Lieutenant, maximum warp"…
Back on Enterprise:
"Captain! Life support failing on decks 3 and 5! Captain!" Archer didn't respond, his eyes were glued to the view screen, silent tears falling to the ground even as he dematerialized in a blue haze. Ensign Sato, the only conscious person on the bridge, screamed at the absurdity of their situation, just as the rocking stopped, and the ship lay still. Franticly wiping her tears away, Hoshi put her efforts shakily into using what little remained of the sensor grid. She detected debris, and not just from Enterprise. Someone else was there, but she couldn't get more accurate readings. "Dammit!" She slapped the console hard, only to hit something sharp. She gasped, stumbling out her chair, she crawled underneath the station, pulling herself into a ball. Eyes wide, she watched in horrid fascination as more blue hazes appeared, replaced with more blue, the last she saw before passing out…
The Andorians scanned the bridge promptly, ignoring the whimpers and pleading of those still alive. "Life signs Lieutenant?" Shran surveyed the area, one hell of a mess. "Approximately 100 bio signatures, all human" "Wha-" Talla cut him off, pressing buttons on her tri-corder. "Correction, one Vulcan life sign, here, on the bridge." Shrans eyes narrowed, "Vulcans!" he spat. "What the hell is a Vu" – The Andorian Commander didn't finish his sentence as a bulkhead blew in all directions, 5 armed humans springing through the new passage. "Hands up! Now!" Shran eyed the black haired human with disgust. "And what would you do next, pinkskin, my ship is in a much better position to be making demands". Reeds eyes flickered away from the Andorians, as the lights returned and the functioning consoles flickered to life. It was all the time Shran needed to draw and fire his phaser, effectively stunning Reed, the other humans, inexperienced and frightened, didn't need much encouragement to surrender…
Engineering was a hell hole. Cascading power failures were showing up all over the console, that Is, if there were a working console with which to read the fluxuations, they'd be there. They'd at least prevented the warp core from breaching, but hell, thought Tucker, a lot of this shit wouldn't have happened if they'd been given some warning. His first priority, after life support, had been salvaging what he could of the internal communications. The console lit up, displaying the less than jubilant report he'd been expecting on ship wide systems. Ignoring it for the moment, he hailed the bridge, audio only…
Shran glared at the bleeping panel, debating whether or not to answer it. The pinkskins might react badly to an alien on their bridge, Shran snorted, did he really give a shit? "This is Captain Shran of the Andorian vessel Kumari, we are here to offer assistance".
Trip groaned, he had no idea who these people were and if they could trust them, but right now he really had no choice, nothing short of a space dock would get them running soon enough, so, what the hell. "This is commander Tucker, are there wounded up there?" "Affirmitive" Trip felt his panic rise,he had already known there would be casuailtys, but hearing it confirmed his fears, fears he couldn't allow himself to feel right now. "I'll be arriving with a medic shortly." "he was about to close the link when-" Commander, i caution you against bringing an armed team, we will not tolerate another assult." "another?!, what the-" the link was cut off…
Trip, Phlox, and another medic stepped off the turbo lift, only to be greeted by a host of raised weapons. Shit, what had he just walked himself into? He raised his hands, showing them he was unarmed. One of the blue aliens nodded something, probably the one in charge here, he assumed. Another Andorian came over and searched the three of them, when he was satisfied he said something to the leader, and surprisingly Trip could understand it. "they're clean". Shran appraised these pinkskins, eyes narrowing in thought. "You follow your word human, you may attend to your wounded". Immediately Trip began assessing the carnage he hadn't until now. As Phlox and the medic began treating the wounded, it suddenly dawned on him, "Wheres the captain" he demanded. "Watch your tone pinkskin," Shran growled " the only humans we harmed tried to ambush us, and they're all here!" A small trembling voice broke into their argument. "He vanished" Hoshi said weakly, from her spot under the console "he was there in the chair, and then there was this blue haze, and then he was gone". Hoshi instantly started sobbing, burying her face in her arms. "the transporter" murmered trip, he glared accusingly at Shran. "Its not my ship, pinkskin, the Romulans-"
"Commander, if I might interrupt the sub-commander is waking." Trip nodded, stepping over a dead body he walked to where she lay on the ground. "thanks Phlox" The Vulcans eyes flickered open, "status report, commander." "Warp and weapons are offline, life support is stable for the moment". T'pol's eyes were seated on the Andorians, "why are there hostile Andorians on the bridge, Commander?" Trip sighed, he had been asking himself that very same question. "They claim they saved us and are offering to help us with repairs, we need the help T'pol, trust me." T'pol's eyes hadn't left the blue aliens, and they themselves were eyeing her suspiciously. It was probably better not to ask, he assumed, least get into a fight this ship couldn't handle. "We will not deal with the Vulcan" stated Shran, his antenna writhing. "he's got a point Commander". Trip spun around, Lt. Reed was staggering to his feet, gripping the console for support. "And why should we jeopardize our safety, just so this SPY, can command a human ship!" Trip was so taken aback he didn't answer for a moment, he hadn't known Reed was a xenophobe, let alone raging mad. "All they've done is hold us back! I bet that was a Vulcan ship too." He turned his crazed eyes on T'pol, "What was the plan! Capture Captain Archer, and then order our return to earth, once you were in command that would be no problem, would it! W-" "That's enough Lt.!" Trip finally intervened, his initial shock overcome. "Insubordination will not be tolerated". His glare didn't faze Reed, and he didn't know what would, the look on his face was demonic. "Phlox?" Trip called over his shoulder, "yes commander?" "scan Lt. Reed, I-". Trip was knocked to the ground, the wind blown out of him, he took another blow to the head. "I won't let you!" Screamed Reed. He snatched a phase pistol out from an unsuspecting Andorian's holster. Turning it on T'pol, he grinned evilly, before pulling the trigger…
Chapter Two
The energy beam went veering to the side as Trip tackled the Lt.'s legs, effectively knocking him down. T'pol took this advantage, springing to the dropped phaser. The commander was locked in physical combat with Lt. Reed, unable to clearly aim for one, she logically deducted that stunning both would most likely cause less damage than allowing them to continue. Her arm raised, she stiffened, identifying the sensation of a metal cylinder being pressed into her back. "Drop it Vulcan" commanded the Andorian. Her eyebrow rose in the familiar gesture, "I fail to see how allowing the humans to fight will aid you". Shran was grinning devilishly, "you Vulcans, always so short minded." He shook his head chuckling. "You should know that we wouldn't help any Vulcan, so the outcome of this fight will determine your fate, should the commander win, he will no doubt place you in command, and we will leave." He paused, allowing those implications to sink in. "However, if the Lt. wins, I believe your fate is practically sealed, personally, I'm rooting for the Lt." The Andorian's leer, twisted in its glow, frightened the Vulcan sub-commander, which, in itself, shook to her core. She faintly realized that her hands were shaking, attempting to cease their motion, she calmed herself. Reciting the ancient teachings of Surak, however, deep within her mind the mechanical memorization failed, eliciting the next emotion, panic. What was happening to her!? She had always held firm control over her emotions, but now she found herself devoid of all objectivity. Coming back to reality, she found the commander standing over the unconscious body of Lt. Reed, a broken chair piece in his hand. She felt an uncontrollable wave of relief surge through her, she wouldn't be killed, and the Andorians would soon depart, per their own words. "Sub-Commander? T'pol?" Startled, she was abruptly broken from her muses. "Yes Commander?" Her query was met with a frown, all the while her façade of control was wearing thin. "What are your orders?" Her jaw clenched, she would not allow herself to unveil the cascading sensations bombarding her control, to do so would surely weaken her command position, which, being the only Vulcan onboard this vessel, was not at its maximum. "Continue repairs, the sensor grid is a top priority," She paused, surveying the bridge, "Lt. Reed will be escorted to the brig, dismissed Commander."…
Trip Tucker had had better days, the Enterprise was in tatters, he considered it a gift from god that life support was still functioning. Covered in grease, grime, and a hundred other things he'd rather not think about, the chief engineer was seriously debating his actions on the bridge. Of course he'd done the only thing he could about Reed, you can't just kill a person, Vulcan or otherwise. But leaving her in command? And then there was that thing with the Andorians. He let out a heavy sigh, now they were adrift in space, barely functioning, and no help imminent. Trip snorted, if only earth could see them now, their big "boldly go where no man has gone before" speech would crumple up and die on its own. Hell, they probably all would if he didn't get these systems working. Clearing his mind, he set back to the task…
Dr. Phlox was a Denobulan, for his people, occasional hallucinatory effects were considered healthy. They exercised a portion of the brain usually confined to REM sleep, for humans however, this was either shunned or treated with mental rehabilitation. And as Phlox observed the sickbay full of restrained crewmen, he wondered what could possibly be going on. Within the last three hours, 17 humans had been dragged in by security, each in a state of crazed violence. He had run them all through the imaging chamber, and they had all appeared to be perfectly healthy. If he could just locate the- "get your hands off me!" Phlox was instantly alert, grabbing a hypo-spray he jogged to the doors as yet another crew member was man handled into sickbay. "Get away from me!" he flailed franticly breaking free just as Phlox injected him with a sedative. Letting out an animalistic growl as he leapt at the doctor, biting into his forearm, before passing out. Watching the blood ooze from the wound, he stared, as if mesmerized, "Fascinating"…
T'pol strode purposefully through the corridors of Enterprise, projecting an outward demeanor of utter calm. However within her mind, warring conflicts struggled to break to the surface. Reaching her quarters she keyed in her code. As soon as the doors swished behind her she sunk to the ground, arms grasping each other, trembling violently. Vulcan society shunned all emotion, children were taught to repress their feelings at an early age. Thus leaving her unprepared for the emotional onslaught she found herself in now. She had never had to deal with them directly, they were always suppressed at an almost instinctive level, but now, with no choice, she couldn't hold back the sob escaping her lips, as the tears began to flow…
Trip stood outside the Vulcans quarters, just wanting to get this over with and head back to his bunk. Ringing the chime, he glanced down at his feet while he waited for her to answer. As the door swished open he took a step inside, "Sub-commander I have the diagnostic repor-" . Glancing up from his padd, he almost didn't duck in time as the vase flew past his head. "Get out!" Seeing her for the first time since he entered, she looked animalistic. Her eyes were red rimmed, hair tousled, and her face was contorted in what was definitely an emotional display. She took a menacing step forward, growling. Trip found himself scared shitless as the crazed Vulcan approached him. "T'pol, just, just calm down, I can call Phlox-" "no!". And all at once her demeanor morphed, "no, please don't do that." Her voice had taken on a plaintive tone, he could see tears welling in her eyes as she collapsed onto the floor, huddling herself into a ball. He took a cautious step forward, kneeling next to her as her body was wracked by sobs. Trip just stared in awe, dumbstruck at her grief, well, more like the fact that she had grief, or anger, or whatever. She looked so vulnerable, at odds with her previous rage, and yet, somehow, she still maintained a dignity of sorts. He couldn't explain it, and for all he knew, he might just be imagining it. So lost was he in the pained depths of her eyes, that he didn't react when she placed a quivering hand on his cheek…
T'pol spread her fingers over his temple, reaching the proper contact points. She knew, with what little control she had left, she definitely shouldn't be doing this. But with the instinctive urge so strong, she initiated the meld. "Our minds are merging",
His eyes wide, captivated, he willed himself to fight the strange sensation fluttering on the edge of his consciousness, but found his body unwilling.
"Our minds are one".
Searing thoughts coursed through his head, raging emotions bombarded him as his mind struggled to comprehend the sheer magnitude that was battering him. Emotions he never knew could have such depth captivated him, while he fell deeper and deeper into the swirling mass of chaos. He felt sad, angry, happy, content, peaceful, chaotic, hell ridden, until at last he couldn't stand the onslaught. Eyes rolling back into his head, he passed out, slumped on the floor…
T'pol drew a deep breath, drawing strength from the human had been an effective, if somewhat primitive, strategy. She was not in full control as of yet, but the meld had helped re-center her thought process, allowing her to analyze her actions. She had no clue whatsoever, the effect her mental intrusion would have on the commander. However, logically, as the commanding officer aboard this vessel, it was necessary for her to maintain stable control of her actions. Therefore, the meld had proved a necessary, if somewhat distasteful, method of balance. The Commander would no doubt react in an emotional display once learning of her violation, being human, he was bound to overlook the logical necessity of the act. However, as his species was fond of saying, she would cross that road when she came to it…
Chapter Three
Trip vaguely heard someone calling his name, the voice sounded low, and sweet. The lopsided grin that spread over his face would most aptly be called "goofy". He shifted into a more comfortable position, eyes still closed. A soft hand shook him, rousing him to a degree. "hmmm?" he murmured. "Commander" , the nice voice had changed tone, he dimly recognized. Sounded more like an eyes flashed open, springing into a sitting position his eyes darted around the room. Upon seeing T'pol, he relaxed visibly. Pulling her into his embrace, he nuzzled into her neck, affectionately rubbing her back. Deep down he wasn't sure what the hell he was doing, but it felt so right he just ignored his common sense, breathing deeply of her scent. "Commander what are you doing?" At this he faltered, what was he doing. Lightning fast he untangled himself and stumbled back, adrenaline coursing through his veins. "uhh" And then it all came back, the barrage of emotions, so intense, before uncounsousness took him. His eyes teared up at the mere recollection. He felt his face burning, "uh, T'pol, what exactly, I mean wha-" "What transpired last night?" she finished for him. "Um, well uh, yeah", he replied, grateful for not having to finish the question.
She paused, attempting to formulate an answer that wouldn't aggravate him, finding none. "As you may know, Vulcans are touch telepaths, this allows us to-" "All senior officers report to the bridge" She was saved the awkwardness by the blaring siren, signaling an emergency. Conversation forgotten, both Human and Vulcan scrambled up, racing to the bridge...
The turbo-lift doors slid open, "Status repor-", T'pol paused, raising her left eyebrow, the scene before her and the commander was alarming. Six men stood, weapons raised and aimed directly at the Commander and herself. Attempting a logical course of action, T'pol spoke. "Lower your weapons crewman". An insane chuckle caused them to whirl around…
Trip couldn't believe what was happening, he had heard a brief report on something causing the crew to act strange, violently even. But here was Reed, somehow out of the brig and pointing a phase pistol at him. "Sorry Vulcan, but they don't take orders from you". His face had a smirk, just begging to be wiped of that arrogant son of bi- "Commander I asked you a question". Trip was sharply broken from his thoughts, "and what would that be Lieutenant?" Reeds face contorted in fury for a brief second, before quickly relaxing into his confident smirk. "ohhh I'm afraid we won't have any of that now, as your captain, I don't have any tolerance for insubordination." At his nod, the crewman tightened their grips on their phasers, "wait!" Trip scrounged his mind furiously, searching for some way out of this. "You need me" "oh really, and why would that be hmmmm?" Reed lazily walked past them, lounging himself in the captain's chair. Polishing his phase pistol, absent mindedly with his finger. "If I were you, Tucker, I'd answer quickly" running his index finger along the barrel. "You'll never get this ship operational without me." Reed sighed dramatically, "I suppose your right about that," his eyes flickered onto T'pol. "However, there's no reason to restrain myself when it comes to you, is there Vulcan?" He closed one eye, aiming at her languidly in his slouched position. Trip froze, shit! What the fuck was he supposed to do?! He had gotten himself out of imminent danger, but how the hell could he help T'pol with six armed weapons pointed at him? Reeds finger was pulling the trigger, damn the risks! Trip lunged forward, aiming himself at Reed, but was restrained and pulled back almost instantly. The shot of energy missed by about a foot. Sighing in relief, Trip thanked whatever forces there were up there. "But where would the fun be in that", turning to Tucker, Reed glared as he stood. Strolling over to him, he inspected his thumb, before backhanding the engineer across his face. The security men pushed him to the ground, kicking him in the ribs. Reed crouched down, face to face with Tucker, "if you ever, ever, try to defy me again, I will have you and the Vulcan killed, is that clear?" Trip just nodded, breathing labored as the mutinous crew members kicked him again. "Good, now get the hell off my bridge"…
T'pol assisted Trip as they traversed the distance to sickbay. He had initially refused her attempts to take him there, but after a logical argument, the commander had had little choice but to comply. As his superior officer, she did have the ability to order him. However that seemed rather ambiguous, considering the chain of command was completely in tatters. As they approached sickbay, she couldn't help but tense as they turned the last corner. The room was dark, one of the sliding doors was wide open, and a flickering light source only served to add to her apprehension. With the dozens of reports on abnormal behavior, T'pol had no idea how many were brought to sickbay. It could logically be deducted that the guards were overpowered, or that they themselves became mentally unstable. In fact, the number of negative outcomes possible was so diverse tha-. No, she couldn't continue on her present course of thought, it would only serve to unbalance her emotional control, which, at its present, wasn't exactly peak level. "So what'a you think?" T'pol nearly jumped at the Commanders voice, invading her personal monologue. Hastily regaining her composure, "I believe we should proceed with caution". He sighed, "I guess theres no chance you'll reconsider?" She turned, fully facing the human, "Commander, even if your present state did not require medical attention, it is highly illogical to operate a ship without a functioning sickbay."
Trip snorted, immediately wincing at the pain in his chest. "T'pol, there isn't much logic anywhere on this ship right now". She seemed to take that as an insult, just nodding curtly and continued walking down the corridor. Well too bad for her, he had followed the sub commander, right down to her descent straight off the chain of command. Well, it wasn't like he had much choice, he mused, starting to limp after T'pol. Currently sane, he couldn't imagine joining Reed's little escapade, or big escapade, mutiny, whatever…
The sickbay was dark, lit only by an eerie glow from a flickering light bulb. The bio beds were filled with restrained crewmen, whimpering and pleading to some unseen tormentor. There was broken glass and some sort of liquid glistening on the floor. The sight was remarkably unsettling, decided T'pol, it looked like something out of a human horror film, details not lacking in the slightest. She continued her survey of the grim surroundings, too preoccupied in her observations to notice the pitter of footsteps behind her.
Trip, however, did hear the Denobulan's movement, and glancing behind him, he was filled with a sudden sense of apprehension. "T'pol", he caught her eye, "turn around". Phlox was there, grinning his inhuman smile. "Commanders", he acknowledged them, an evil glint in his eye. He began to stride forward, measuring off a dose in the hypo-spray he was holding at eye level. Trip searched around him, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon, spotting a phaser lying on the ground, right next to a puddle of blood and an incapacitated guard. "Ahh, just there", the Denobulan was far too close now, "Doctor, I order you to remain where you are". T'pol, as usual, was attempting the logical approach. Trip might have found it funny, were there not a crazed physician approaching with a very suspicious looking hypo-spray. He had waited too long, for what reason he wasn't sure. But the Doctors feet were now exactly next to the phaser. Trip could feel the sweat break on his forehead, the Denobulan's leer was scary as hell. He could probably overpower the docter, but then again, all it would take is one prick and he'd be injected with god knows what.
T'pol, guardedly observing the ship's doctor, did herself feel the vestiges of panic. She was perplexed as to why neither herself nor the Commander had attempted any assault, when clearly that was what would be required of the situation. She commanded her mind to analyze the situation, to find a path through this predicament, yet found herself unable to comply. It was increasingly frustrating, she had no way of knowing what was assailing her control, and at this rate she would be-. The Commander had dived at the Doctors legs, for what foolish reason she didn't know. However it would be prudent to take advantage of this distraction while she could. Leaping at the doctor, she twisted his arm away from the Commander, only just realizing, that in the heat of the moment, she had grabbed the arm with the hypo-spray. Fear filled her as the Denobulan pressed the head into her wrist, cackling wildly before a red beam of energy knocked him off his feet.
Trip saw T'pol start to shudder and convulse, falling to her knees. He crawled over to her, grabbing her shoulders, trying to hold her still as whatever was in that phial ravaged its way through her system. "T'pol", he managed to choke out weakly. Her body stopped its spasms, lying limp, "T'pol no!". He shook her franticly, as if by rattling her he could magically heal whatever had happened. His eyes flew over the room, he didn't know what he could do, but there had to be something. Seeing Phlox, his eyes hardened, a cold determination replacing his hectic spaz. Grabbing his phase pistol harder, he stepped across the room, reaching for a hypo-spray…
Chapter Four
The first thing Phlox saw as he opened his eyes was not a comforting sight. A very dirty, disheveled Commander Tucker, with a phase pistol aimed directly at the Denobulan. Any grogginess immediately evaporated as he took in his situation. He could remember horrific images, things he had done, and yet, none of it seemed real. He shuddered at a specific memory, the grisly details still fresh in his mind, what had happened? Thankfully, he didn't have time to dwell on that as the Commander interrupted his thoughts. "Listen Phlox, you are going to undo whatever the hell it is you did to T'pol, do you understand?" The words were growled, and the contorted expression on his face did little to ease his spirits. "Do! You! Understand!" These words were yelled, and the brandishing of his phaser served to validate the unspoken threat being conveyed. "Yes Commander I understand" Phlox tried to speak soothingly, but for some reason this only further aggravated the human. "Phlox if you try anything, I won't hesitate to kill you, do you understand that!" "Y-yes! Yes I understand C-commander," Stammered Phlox. "Good, now get started" he commanded, motioning his phase pistol in the Sub-Commanders direction…
Trip kept a close scrutiny on the Denobulan as he worked, ready to shoot him on a moment's notice. The doctor diligently kept to his task, scanning T'pol and computing his finds, only pausing every few minutes to glance at Trip when he thought he wasn't looking. The glances were filled with fear, he noted with satisfaction, and he doubted that Phlox would care to test his captor's threat. Captor, the very word filled him with a twisted glee. In fact, he had forgotten his original reason for forcing the Doctor to treat the Vulcan. It wasn't like he cared what happened to her, she was jus- of course you care. The thought struck out from nowhere, changing his perspective for a split second, before he viciously shut it down. She was just a Vulcan bitch, no more deserving of his care than an insect. Then why do you have Phlox at gunpoint? He shook his head, dispelling the rampant emotions. The only reason for having the Denobulan treat her was his own enjoyment, he wanted to watch him squirm before killing them both. Bullshit. "Shut up!" he dropped the phase pistol, clutching at his head with both hands, "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Arrrhhhhh!" In his madness, he desperately clung to his hatred, grabbing hold of it and relishing in its sweet agony. His eyes flashed open in an instant glare, Phlox immediately diverted his attention, focusing on his work as if his life depended on it. Well, it kinda did, he thought with an insane chuckle, but he'd let it slide for now, he wasn't done with the Denobulan yet.
Phlox had watched the Commanders episode, only then realizing to the extent this madness had spread. The doctor still couldn't clearly recall his bout of insanity, it was like an elusive dream, stretching out of his grasp every time he got close. But he did know this, he was currently in complete control of his facilities, he was not suffering the mental disorder he had been, which meant there was a way to treat this. However, applying that treatment to over 80 crazed crewmen could prove quite a challenge. And to top it off, he had a dying Vulcan in his care, who would inadvertently get him killed if he didn't save her. The shot he had injected into the sub-commander was a nightmare come to life. It wreaked havoc on the central nervous system, while at the same time debilitating the body's defense mechanisms. To think that he himself had created such a terror both frightened and disgusted him, and he wasn't sure he could repair the damage he had caused. But at the same time he had to formulate a plan to incapacitate the commander, perhaps even restore a semblance of control in the young human. Phlox resisted the temptation to sigh, it would probably provoke the Commander…
The comm panel was beeping, Trip cautiously stepped forward, as if suspecting someone to jump out and hit him. After a moment's thought he clicked the button, and a decidedly unwelcome voice rang through the room. "Commander Tucker respond immediately", Trip smirked at Reed's order, he would wait a minute, just to piss him off. "Commander Tucker res-" "I'm here Lt., don't get your panties in a bunch." The lazy drawl only served to infuriate the mutineer, who was no doubt releasing his anger on the nearest inanimate object. "Why the hell aren't you in engineering Tucker!" Trip sighed audibly through the speaker, "I apologize deeply your highness, however I had pressing matters that required my immediate attention". This time he could actually hear the bang that resounded from whatever was suffering up there. "Listen Tucker" growled Reed, "If you're not in engineering in five minutes, I'll have you and that Vulcan slut tortured until you beg for mercy!" Trip chuckled, who the fuck did he think he was? "Go to hell Lieutenant" "Your-" Trip clicked the button again, terminating the communication. "Phlox!" he yelled at the Denobulan less than five feet away. Turning around, however, he paused as the beam of energy hit him, a look of pure astonishment on his face for the split second before he slumped to the floor in a heap.
Phlox hurriedly paced his way to the comm panel, hoping against hope that their resident "Captain", had not yet sent a security detail to sickbay to handle the now unconscious Commander. "Sickbay to bridge", "What!?" barked back the reply through the comm system. If Phlox was going to accomplish this, he would have to appeal to Reed's crazed persona. "This is Doctor Phlox Captain, and I believe you will find Tucker quite incapacitated at the moment." A pause, before an insane chuckle rang through the speaker, making his skin crawl. "And you acted quite wisely doctor, you will be rewarded." Phlox could just imagine the smug look on the humans face. "Well Captain, now that you mention it, I do have some experiments in mind, and I might need a subject." If Phlox had been human, he would have crossed his fingers by now. "I'll have one sent down immediately doctor". And again, if Phlox had been human, he would be punching the air triumphantly. "Ahh, actually Captain, I was thinking that Tucker would be a prime subject. If you don't mind of course?" The cruel laughter that ensued was blood freezing. "He's yours Phlox, but I do expect to see the outcomes personally." "Of course Captain." The link was abruptly closed, and Phlox breathed a sigh of relief. His ploy had bought him some time, but he would have to make it count…