CHAPTER TWENTY
Trip maneuvered around Dru-hak with a speed and ease that, while no longer a surprise, still amazed the Klingon warrior. The Captain was becoming very adept with the bat'leth.
Dru-hak had not bothered to hide his surprise when Tucker had approached him about learning how to use the favored close combat weapon of the Klingon warrior.
"Why?" he had asked.
"I like'em," Trip shrugged. "There's just somethin'. . .it just feels right, in my hands." That was an appropriate answer, so far as Dru-hak was concerned, and he had begun the lessons that very day.
After three months, while far from an expert, he was well beyond where he should be.
"Soon you will need to train with the younger, stronger warriors," he told Trip, breathing a little heavy after a particularly spirited bout. "I would never allow anyone else to hear me say it, but your strength is superior to mine, My Lord. To say nothing of your speed and agility. I am too old to be trying to keep up with you," he chuckled.
"Ah," Trip waved it off. "You know more than any three o' them put together," he laughed. "My dad used to say that age and treachery will always triumph over youth and enthusiasm."
"A wise man," Dru-hak nodded.
"Yeah, he's pretty smart," Trip nodded, suddenly solemn.
"I have sensed you are troubled, My Lord, and have been for some time," the old Klingon ventured. "May I inquire as to why?"
Trip regarded the carefully asked question for a moment, taking a long drink of water. He decided to answer it. Dru-hak had earned that, and more.
"Here while back," he started, "I made a choice in life. One I'm convinced was the right one, but. . .it cost me. I'll probably wind up an outlaw among my own people, Dru-hak. I won't be able to go home, won't be able to see my family, or friends." He sighed, wiping the sweat from his face with a towel.
"I guess, lately, I've been givin' more thought to that sacrifice," he shrugged.
"Do you regret your choice?" the Klingon asked.
"No, but I regret havin' to make it," Trip admitted. "Had it to do again, I would," he added. "But the cost. . . .My family may wind up in danger on account o' me. I don't like that."
"I understand," the large warrior nodded. "Family, when all other things are gone, is the one thing that remains true, and constant. One may fight with his family, but if another interferes, that will unite the arguing members against a common foe."
"Yeah," Trip laughed. "We got the same sayin', too," he nodded. "Seems like we don't have so much difference between us after all, sometimes."
"Some things are universal, in my experience," Dru-Hak nodded. He straightened. "I believe that is enough for today. I have a meeting with my counter-parts soon. And I believe you have work as well. We shall continue tomorrow, if fate wills."
"Until then," Trip nodded. Taking his own weapon, Trip left the gym, and headed to his quarters. After a shower and fresh uniform, Trip decided to walk the ship, something he'd learned from Jon.
Another pang hit Trip then, thinking not only about Jonathon Archer, but his other friends aboard Enterprise. One day, they would all be old and grey, Lord willing, and he'd still be just as he was right now.
He didn't like to think about watching his friends grow old and die before him, while he remained unchanged. For the first time, he understood the sadness he sometimes say in the faces of the others. Especially Janos, but even Neera got that same look once in a while.
Suddenly, Trip was glad he could no longer have children. His parents had lost a daughter in the Xindi attack, and he had seen, almost felt, the sorrow they endured. A bone crushing, life stealing grief that only a parent could understand.
That, at least, was one pain he would never know. He wouldn't have to see his children born, live, and die, while he continued living.
It need not be so, he heard in his head. The symbiot had been silent for a long time. Hearing him, her, it, in his head came as a surprise.
I thought it was a simple fact, Trip mentally shrugged.
And so, normally, it is, the symbiot agreed. But for you, because of me, it need not be so. You can sire an offspring if you desire.
I may can, but Neera can't, Trip reminded him. Whatever my other faults, I'm not much on infidelity. If I'm with someone that way, I'm with them. Until the end.
Yet another reason I have chosen you to reveal myself to, after all this time, he could almost feel the symbiant smile. You are somewhat unique, Charles, among humanity. It is beings such as yourself who give me hope for your future.
Thanks, Trip smiled mentally. But it still leaves me where I started. But that's okay. It spares me at least one source of pain.
Any child you fathered with a suitable mate would . . . inherit your more. . .unusual traits, Charles of Earth. That choice is still before you. When you decide, I will hear you.
And just like that, the conversation was over. Trip shook his head to clear it, and realized that he was standing in engineering, and that some of the crew were looking at him.
"It's all right," he told them, smiling wanly. "Go on about your work," he ordered, and everyone hurried to get back to what they were doing. Tala was watching him as he watched the crew return to work.
"You look perplexed, sir," she commented. Tala, for some reason, elicited a strong sense of leniency in Trip. Maybe, he thought absently, because she was so much like Elizabeth.
"I always look that way," he grinned. "How're things goin'?" he asked.
"We're at one hundred percent across the board, m'Lord," Tala said formally. "Our only down system if the aft gun port and torp tube, but that's gonna need yard time to fix."
"Yeah," Trip nodded. "We shouldn't need'em, I hope," he commented. "It's not like the other guns can't cover that quarter."
"True," she agreed. "Well, at any rate, we'll be able to give you all systems at full power when you need them."
"I know," Trip smiled again. "Thanks for all your hard work, by the way."
"It's my privilege sir," the little Andorian nodded.
STE
Neera watched as Trip read over the day's reports, his heart clearly not in his work.
"What's bothering you?" she asked gently.
"Nothin'," he replied automatically. "Just thinkin'."
"I can always tell when you're lying," she teased.
"Yeah, I know," he chuckled slightly. "Symbiot spoke to me today." Neera perked up at that.
"What did it tell you?" she asked.
"Told me that I could still father a child, or children, if I wished, with the right 'mate'." Neera's eyes widened at that.
"I told him thanks, but. . . ."
"But what?" she asked. "Trip, that is an amazing gift!"
"I know, but. . .Neera I'm really not the. . .I told you, my 'reputation' was a little overblown. Well, mostly," he amended. "When I'm with someone, I'm with them. All the way. And you can't have children. So that. . .well, that's that," he smiled. Neera felt her eyes water, but hid it from him. Sometimes she wondered if he knew just how incredibly special he was.
"I would never stand in your way of having children, Charles," she said softly.
"I know that, but. . .I just couldn't do that to you," he smiled again. "Just how I was raised, I guess."
"I would not object to another sharing your bed, so long as. . .so long as I was allowed to aide in her selection," Neera said simply. He frowned, looking up at her.
"Trip, I am. . .I have been here a long time," she said gently. "I came from a different time than you, love, and. . .well, things that are so foreign to you are really not so for me. In my time, my original time, it was not unusual for a man in your position to have multiple women. Wives, and concubines. There was no stigma attached to it, it simply was."
"Yeeeah, but I wasn't raised in that kinda time," he shook his head. "It'd feel . . . well, wrong. That's all."
"As I said, I would want to have an input," she reminded him. "I would assist you in picking a mate, and a mother, that would not cause. . .troubles between us. She would have to be someone we trusted, and could add to our family. Not in that way," she raised a hand. "But someone who would share her life with us."
"Be askin' for a lotta pain, someday," Trip warned darkly. "Get attached to someone like that, who'd not live a tithe as long."
"There are always trade offs," she nodded her agreement. "But. . .during her lifetime, we would welcome her, whoever she might be. Love and cherish her."
"That's a lot to think about," he waved her comments aside, though without disrespect. "We can always come back to it, once all this is behind us."
"Very well," Neera nodded, satisfied she had planted the seed, at least.
The two went back to reading their reports in companionable silence.
STE
"Sir, do you have a minute?" Hoshi asked from the door of Archer's ready room.
"Sure, Hoshi, c'mon in," he smiled. She entered, and took a seat.
"I. . .I may have made a mistake," she said slowly. "Well, not a mistake, but more like a. . .miscalculation, let's say."
"Can't be that bad, can it?" Jon tried to smile.
"No, but. . .it's left me uncertain about things," Hoshi admitted.
"Well, let's hear it," Jon leaned back. "Maybe I can help."
"I'm not entirely sure that all of the Xindi races are so. . .warlike as they seem," she admitted. "I've managed to translate almost all of the information from the database Trip seized, and, well. . .apparently two of the races, called Reptilians, and Insectoids, seem to be the most violent and warlike."
"Okay," Jon nodded. "That still leaves us with the problem that all of them were part of the attack on us."
"I. . .I don't think so, sir," Hoshi shook her head. "I think some of each race was involved, yes. But. . .I'm not sure that all the races even know what's happening, outside the fact that they know at least one Earth, or Human, ship is in the Expanse, and looking for them."
"Well, that's not unheard of," Jon mused. "I mean, we don't always know what's going on in Starfleet's head, after all. I'd venture the Vulcan's as a whole don't always know what's happening with the High Command, either."
"Exactly," Hoshi seemed to draw confidence from his statement.
"How does this help us, Hoshi?" he asked.
"I don't know, yet," she admitted. "Or if at all," she added. "But, it does seem that, if some of the Xindi people aren't aware, then they might not like what's happening."
Jon let that statement turn over in his head for a while.
"I can see where that might be the case," he said finally. "But the bottom line, Hoshi, is that they've attacked us once, and seem to be planning to do the same thing again. We have to prevent that, no matter what."
"I know," Hoshi nodded at once. "And that has to take precedent. I just wanted you to know that perhaps not all of the Xindi know what's happening. And, it's possible that even some of those involved with the weapon, the attack, aren't really happy about it, either. From what I've gleaned so far, the Arboreals, Primates, and Aquatics are, for the most part, peaceful peoples. They may have been. . . ." She trailed off, looking for the right word.
"Coerced?" Jon suggested.
"No, not as such," she shook her head. "I was thinking more along the lines of manipulated. Misled. Lied to," she shrugged. "They may see what they're doing as purely defensive, protecting themselves and their own races."
"There is a great deal of distrust among them, from what I can get out of that database," she continued. "One section of their history shows that the extinct race, the Avians, died because a civil war destroyed Xindus. Old Xindus," she clarified. "The original home of all the races. The Avians lacked the technology to flee, and. . .well, the others were trying to save as many of their own people as possible."
"Do we know which race was instrumental in the destruction of their home?" Archer asked, eyes narrowing.
"Primarily the Reptilians, with the assistance, or at least support, of the Insectoids," she replied.
Archer digested that one slowly.
"Hoshi, I appreciate you bringing this to my attention," he said finally. "This might just be the opening we need to at least talk to someone before we start shooting."
"I don't think that will stop Trip, sir," Hoshi warned.
"I don't know," Archer admitted. "But he seemed to be. . .he at least is willing to try things my way, he said. Maybe this will help."
"I hope so," Hoshi rose. "Because that ship. . . ."
"I know," Archer sighed. "Acheron is a pure warship, Hoshi. And it's not his only one," he said without thinking.
"What?" the little Ensign almost yelled.
"I shouldn't have said that," Archer held up a hand. "It cannot leave this room, Hoshi, and that's an order," he said sternly.
"How. . .how many more. . . .?" She couldn't find words to finish.
"At least three," Jon admitted. "None are here, in the Expanse, aside from Acheron," he told her. "In fact, one is probably just outside our home system, on guard against another attack," he added.
"Really?" Hoshi seemed relieved by that.
"Yes," Archer nodded.
"I. . .sir, I have to admit, as horrible as the power of that ship is, it. . .I feel better knowing one of them is protecting Earth."
"I'm almost ashamed to say it, but, I feel the same way," Archer nodded. "If we fail, at least one of those. . .behemoths, will be standing between the Xindi and Earth."
Hoshi nodded, not knowing what else to say. The man she had known as Trip, the man she had secretly harbored a crush on, along with most every other woman aboard save T'Pol, and she wasn't sure about T'Pol these days, was not the man who commanded that terrible warship. Not anymore.
If the Xindi didn't listen to reason, that man, that Trip, who was as dark and dreadful as the old one had once been light and cheerful, would probably glass their planet, and then hunt down the survivors.
Hoshi left the room ready to cry for the loss of 'her' Trip Tucker.
STE
"Status report," Trip demanded as he walked onto the bridge.
"Sensors are clear, sir," Julio reported.
"Concur," Trail nodded, looking at his own instruments.
"Confirmed," Kron supported.
"Any com traffic?" Trip asked, taking his chair.
"Yes, sir, quite a bit of it, actually," Julio replied. "I'm working with the UT to try and listen in, but the computer's still chewing on some of the dialects. Especially the bells and clicks one."
"Really gotta find a better name for that one," Trip shook his head.
"Well, once we see one, we'll have more to work with," Julio grinned.
"Distance to Azati Prime?" Trip asked.
"Fifty million klicks, sir," Trail reported.
"Drop us out of warp, Jerry," Trip ordered. "No sense in announcing our arrival."
"Exiting warp," Trail nodded, and the ship reverted to impulse power.
"Passive scans only," Trip ordered. "One quarter impulse from here on, Jerry. Take us in a little closer."
"Aye, m'Lord," Trail nodded, and Acheron began to glide easily and quietly through space. A giant, deadly predator, slowly easing in for the kill.
If Jon doesn't make it, then I'll destroy this whole damn planet.