Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to anything Star Trek. That credit goes to Paramount/CBS. I'm only playing with the characters and their environment. I'm not making any money off of this. I'm doing this for plan old fun. Any of the ideas that seem to come from the TV show Dark Angel belong to 2oth Century Fox. And any of the ideas that seem to come from the Resident Evil franchise belong to Capcom. No copyright infringement is meant. Thanks.
Rated T: For language
A/N: Sorry for the really long delay in posting a new chapter. I haven't given up on this story, so I hope my readers haven't. Life tended to get really hectic and messed up for a while. Things are not fully back to normal, but enough that I finally felt the pull to post and had enough inspiration to move forward. I am determined to finish this story. This chapter has a lot reveals in it and finally starts putting all the pieces together. There will be four more chapters to build up to a climax, and then have a little resolution. Please read and enjoy, and don't forget to give that encouraging review.
Thanks go out to LadyRainbow for sticking with me this long and always pushing me to do better.
Chapter 36
Hoshi worked furiously to keep the frequency jammed. The battle was still raging below and above the command center. Ensign Mayweather was helping Hoshi kept track of all the various skirmishes that were going all around them. The Vorloren super soldiers had been slowed down, but they were nevertheless continuing to pummel the Lasiterian forces.
A Lasiterian comm officer had some disturbing news for her as Hoshi was working the control panel in front of her. "Chief Wolachea, the platoon he was commanding, and your Lieutenant Reed have disappeared," the tall, caramel-haired Lasiterian woman informed those around her as she filtered through all the reports coming in to her terminal. "There is no sign of the human super soldier either."
"We have another problem," a dark-haired, older Lasiterian technician announced from his terminal down the way. "It appears that we have a major group of Vorloren super soldiers fighting their way directly to the command center."
"Why are they making a frontal assault against this command center?" Hoshi wondered out loud.
Travis jumped up from his station and ran over to the Lasiterian's. When he saw the different views from the observation cameras, he could see some Vorloren super soldiers were attempting to climb up the sheer rock wall of the canyon and others were repelling down from the top of the plateau. As the Lasiterian synchronized the images, Travis was the first to figure out why their location was now a Vorloren target.
"I think they want to bust in here and try and take out the Lasiterians' deflector shield. The main control panel is right behind me," Travis informed them all.
Numerous Lasiterian technicians bustled around the command center, feverishly laboring to direct their forces and provide communication and power resources to where their comrades-in-arms needed them. A team of dedicated technicians was manning the stations pertaining to the deflector shield grid and controls. Although the technicians were not regular Lasiterian militia, they were armed to the teeth and knew very well how to defend themselves, each other, and their posts. Ensign Mayweather could tell that they would put up a knock-down-drag-out fight if they had too. It was now looking like that would be a very real possibility, and he and Hoshi would be right in the middle of the attack.
"Is there any way you can help the Lasiterians find a way to get reinforcements up here?" Travis asked Hoshi.
"I've been trying," she replied, frantic, "but it seems the Vorlorens are working on jamming the Lasiterians as much as I've been jamming them."
Mayweather tried to keep calm as he spoke to Hoshi. "Keep trying, Hosh. We've got to get some help up here, or we will be in big trouble."
"I know, I know," Hoshi groaned. "I so wish Malcolm was still here. He could help these poor people mount a better defense. Or it would be even better if Mac were here, fighting on our side."
Travis had seen the damage the human super soldier could inflict. He agreed wholeheartedly with the communications officer's sentiment, and Lieutenant Reed would also be a great asset right now. "Why are they doing this now?" he wondered out loud. "I mean most of their battalions are through the deflector shield and a fair amount of their equipment. Why do they want to bring the shield down now?"
"Probably because their army is not as effective as they had originally hoped," Hoshi commented dryly. "They want to use their fleet's fire power to destroy the entire base. Right now, it is taking far longer and the fighting is far more evenly matched than they would like it to be."
The young helmsman's face showed his horror as his eyes widened and the color drained from his cheeks. "We can't let that happen," he said with great determination. "I'm going to help them defend this place." Now it was Hoshi's turned to look horrified. "We're right in the Vorlorens' line of sight. We're in the thick of this mess, this war. We can either stand by and do nothing, or we can pitch in and help."
"Just another day at the office, huh?" she answered wryly. "Risking our lives once again."
"We might be dead either way," Mayweather expounded. "There's no guarantee that the Vorlorens won't just kill us along with every one else. We are in their way, and we know too much. I'd rather die fighting, than cowering in a corner."
That seemed to hit Hoshi's pride as she agreed with Travis "I don't want to die period, but I will not hide under my desk. I'll fight for these people; they do need our help."
Travis smiled at his friend and colleague. "You've come a long way, Hosh. Keeping trying to flag down the cavalry, we may yet stand a chance."
Hoshi's fingers flew over the various communications consoles, trying her best to find a way to signal for help. In her mind she wished ardently for Mac's help. With the neuro implants disabled, she might be in a position to come to their aid, and Hoshi prayed that would be so. Her mind called out to Mac as powerfully as it could; they needed the transgenic. She just had to come, she just had to.
Malcolm Reed was gently running his hands through Mac's luminous hair, mainly playing with its soft ends. He couldn't help himself as he sat by her side in the underground tunnel. She was absolutely captivating, sleeping peacefully on the makeshift bed he had made for her. She had moaned out the Captain's name once in her sleep, but otherwise, she was quiet. Trip had asked the tactical officer to watch over her for a few moments.
The chief engineer had instructed Reed to make sure Mac was breathing every few minutes, just to make sure she was still alive. He took the task seriously and found himself studying the stunning Snow White. As he toyed with her hair's silky tendrils, he made a startling discovery: her hair was all dark brown again. The whitish-blonde streaks were gone. The Gen Virus working its magic once again, and it had even returned her hair to its most vibrant. Reed shook his head in wonder.
It still was hard to believe that someone so beautiful could be so deadly. The chief tactical officer had experienced Mac's brutally first hand, but since then he had learned that she was capable of great compassion and self-sacrifice. He was becoming mesmerized by her. Reed was beginning to understand the hold she had over his captain and Trip. The commander was pacing back and forth the short distance between one wall of the antechamber and the other, deep in thought, while Reed sat with Mac. Trip was trying to digest all the information Wolachea had divulged to them about the Lasiterians' Dark Guardian Prophecy. It had chilled both he and Malcolm to the bone.
"The prophecy tells of a woman who would come from a distance world and save my people from extinction," Wolachea had told Malcolm and Trip.
Well, Mac is from Earth, an alien world, far away from the Vorloren system, Malcolm thought to himself as he listened.
"The prophecy describes her as small, but formidable," Wolachea had continued. That fit Mac. "It speaks of her as a woman of great power and strength. She will have special skills and abilities: greater speed, greater agility, greater sight, hearing, and sense of sense smell, greater strength than many Lasiterians males combined, greater ability react to her environment and anticipate what would happen next, and she would be able to heal any injury, even those that would cause most people an instantaneous death." Mac has most of those, Malcolm commented in his head.
"The prophecy mentions that it would appear as if she could rise from the dead, if mortally wounded," Wolachea had finished. Bloody hell, Mac's done that as well.
It was the psionic abilities that Wolachea had mentioned to Trip and Malcolm that were so worrying. Trip knew a little bit about what those were and shared his knowledge with Reed. Vulcans had a few to an extent. They were partially telepathic, being able to join minds and share a mental bond with a life mate. Trip confessed to Malcolm that he knew of this first hand; he shared such a bond with T'Pol. T'Pol had been less than pleased about the situation at first because it had surprised her that a Vulcan and a human could even form that kind of bond. As time went on, Trip and T'Pol took great comfort in it, especially since the death of Elizabeth. Trip and T'Pol were able to console each other like no one else could.
Mac's psychic-emotional link to Archer was a similar ability, being able to feel what he felt, empathic to an extent. This connection was much weaker than what T'Pol and Trip had, but it was a psionic ability nonetheless. Vulcans could also meld their minds with others to learn of one's true thoughts and motives, to help long buried memories come to the surface, and to even plant simple suggestions in another's mind. Mac hadn't shown any of those abilities, yet that Malcolm or Trip knew of.
Psionics, however, dealt with more than just telepathy and empathic abilities. It possessed many other categories, like; precognition, clairvoyance, extra-sensory perception, psychokinesis or telekinesis, astral projections, waking dreams, and so on. Trip told Malcolm he was dwelling on the psychokinesis bit. Wolachea had explained what forms that ability could take. Someone with that ability could move objects and people, control fire, water, electricity, and other forces. Its theory was based on the fact that energy existed in everything in the universe. If certain neuro pathways could be activated in specific sequences, a person could reach out with the energy from their mind and influence the energy outside of themselves. Since matter and energy were supposed to be inextricably linked through the laws of physics, a person could use the energy of their mind to move or control objects by manipulating the energy flowing around or through those objects.
It had struck Malcolm and Trip as extremely ironic that a people, like the Lasiterians, who had such deep spiritual beliefs, would look at psionics from a scientific perspective, instead of a superstitious one. They didn't believe it was magic; to them psionics were just part of the evolution of a species, something one grew into. Phlox would have a profound and very logical explanation for the whole thing, but unfortunately for them, the doctor was not here.
"You're aware of the fallacy about how humans only used a small percentage of their brains, right Mal?" Trip suddenly asked the lieutenant, stopping his pacing and looking right at Reed.
"I think I know where you are going with this," Malcolm replied, trying to recall his basic biology classes. His brow knitted as he thought hard. "In reality, aren't all parts of the brain in use, but only at different times and in different ways? It's like neuro pathways continually change and reorganize themselves every time a person experiences something new. For us humans to develop psionic abilities wouldn't be that difficult, depending on how the neuro pathways were formed and connected."
"Yeah, I'm thinkin' that some of my neuro pathways must have found new connections to make or I wouldn't be able to share my mind with T'Pol. Somethin' has had to have changed in my brain structure or my brain chemistry because of T'Pol," Trip explained and started pacing again, full of frustrated energy. "But Mac's unlike any other human. The way her nervous system and brain works, that's far beyond what's consider 'normal'."
Trip was quiet for a moment, stroking his chin with his hand as he thought. "Havin' watched the Vorloren sniper die the way we did and from Mac's uncommitted confession that she could have done it, I'm now thinkin' she has a least some of the psionic abilities that Dark Guardian Prophecy talked about. I think Mac killed that sniper by merely thinkin' it. She somehow was able to direct the energy of her thoughts to maneuver the energy around the hidden super soldier and use that energy to kill him."
"That's a terrifying idea," Malcolm said looking at the sleeping transgenic. "If Mac can kill with her thoughts, what else can she do?" His eyes widened, and then looked back to Trip who had stopped to lean against the cavern wall.
"The testimony of two of the Lasiterian children that Mac saved from that missile attack is also makin' me into a believer, Mal. I think Mac is this Dark Guardian Wolachea told us about," Trip confessed.
The Dark Guardian was aptly named, in Reed's opinion, for two reasons. One was concerning her appearance: dark hair and dark eyes and dressed in black. The second was concerning her nature, and Malcolm recalled Wolachea's words about it. "The prophecy tells of a great evil that the Dark Guardian would have inside, but yet she didn't want. She would be troubled, conflicted, at war with herself. Her past would be something that would haunt her. She must conquer this dark side if she was to serve the people. She would be capable of much love and compassion if she could subdue the primal forces inside of her." Trip had looked at Malcolm, both of them sharing a moment of total shock and disbelief.
"She would have companions that would aid her in her quest, teach her the meaning of love and sacrifice. Much of her power and strength comes to her through her dark side, but it can be channeled to do much good. It is all up to what the Dark Guardian chooses to do. If she chooses to give into evil, then she will have to be destroyed. If she chooses to overcome the monster within, then she will become the salvation of my people and a great leader among them." All of that sounds exactly like what Mac had been fighting her whole life, her primitive instincts, her demon, as she called it, Malcolm had thought.
The tactical officer was beginning to come to the same conclusion Trip was. Mac very possibly was this Dark Guardian. "This whole situation just seems impossible," he said softly to Trip.
"You know somethin' else, ironic I've been thinkin'?" Trip questioned of his friend, but didn't wait for answer. He crouched down next to the lieutenant and spoke very excitedly. "I'm suddenly rememberin' some stories my great-grandmother use to tell. She was a very Southern, very religious and Christian woman. Accordin' to her beliefs, the devil, the temper of mankind, had been an angel of light. He rebelled against God and was cast out of heaven for his disobedience and treachery to become the king of demons. Mac's story is just the opposite. She's the demon, or the damned soul, tryin' to get to heaven. She wants to be obedient and do the right thing so she can become an angel of light. She's a dark angel, Mal."
It took Reed a moment to process all of what Trip had said. The symbolism was powerful and thought provoking, and again it pointed to Mac being the woman to fulfill the aliens' prophecy. Could it really be true? Could there be some grand plan or design in affect here? It blew Malcolm's mind to think about it.
Trip wasn't quite done with his verbal expressions of his thoughts. He stood and paced again, as Malcolm shifted slightly next to Mac. "Another thing that I'm really concerned about is how Mac developed her new psionic abilities? Have they always been part of her genetic makeup?Or has Romdel's or Hister's drug unleashed them, or given them to her? Could all this be another effect of the Gen Virus?"
Malcolm decided that the chief engineer had really been thinking too much, so he would try to lighten the mood a little. "I didn't realize you were such a deep thinker, Commander. You really do concentrate on more than the warp core and all its various and a sundry parts." He smirked his usual smirk to show Trip he was teasing him.
"Oh, hell Malcolm, I wish that was all I had to think about," Trip shot back with a smile finally slipping from him.
Mac stirred and awoke from her sleep. At first she slowly opened her deep brown eyes and yawn like a contented cat. Then she sat up abruptly and froze as if she were listening to something Reed and Trip couldn't hear.
"Mac, are you all right?" Reed asked her softly, touching her leg gently. The human super soldier's face looked pained to him; she was grimacing and her brow furrowed, concerning him.
Trip went to her side the moment she sat up. The tactical officer had obviously not been the only one who noticed the way her forehead was creased. "What's wrong, darlin'?" Trip demanded when he reached her.
Mac didn't answer immediately. Her eyes closed, and she appeared to be concentrating on something. The genetically engineered woman's eyes then flew open. "The Lasiterian command center is going to be overwhelmed by Vorloren super soldiers. They're going to bring down the deflector shield," she suddenly blurted out.
"What!?" Trip and Reed said at the same time, looking at each other and then Mac.
"We need to get this platoon of Lasiterian soldiers back there now," Mac stated, ignoring the two humans' questioning glances. She rose to her feet, perfectly fit and ready to go. "Chief Wolachea," she said respectfully as she strode toward the cream colored alien, leaving Malcolm and Trip to stare after her.
"I heard what you said, milady," he returned. "And I believe you." Wolachea started issuing orders and assignments to his men, organizing them and mobilizing them. It seemed to Reed that the Chief truly did believe what Mac was saying. She must have proved herself to him by sacrificing herself for those three little kids.
Mac had a relieved look on her face that Wolachea didn't argue with her, but Malcolm could tell she was also quite surprised by his faith in her. "You do?" she inquired of him. "How can you? Not that I'm not glad because your people really are in danger, but how can you forgive me like that?"
"I haven't forgiven you of anything, yet," he told her with a little anger, his eyes narrowing, "but you chose to save the lives of three innocent children. You stopped your rampage when you realized what the Gorn was making you do. If you continue to protect my people and help us vanquish our enemy, then I will be able to forgive you, for you will have avenged our dead and saved us from annihilation."
"Can we get to them in time?" she asked all business now.
"If we continue to utilize the underground tunnel system, we can come up right in the heart of the command center, very quickly. The tunnels travel all through the plateau, from far beneath it, to right on up through the entire canyon wall on both sides," Wolachea informed her. "No scans can detect them. The mineral in the rocks here interferes with sensor scans, giving false readings. The tunnels are known only to us."
The Lasiterian ingenuity impressed the strategist in Reed; they knew how to be prepared. It was true that they were trying to remain hidden and protected from extinction, but it still made him marvel.
"I'll take half the platoon and you the other. We can converge on the command center from tunnels below it and also from tunnels above it. It is in the center of the plateau, embedded in the rock wall of the canyon," Wolachea expounded his plan.
"Yes, I saw it when I flew with the Vorloren scouting vessels," Mac said matter-of-factly. "Your plan sounds like a sound strategy."
Trip suddenly burst into the conversation. "You aren't doin' what I think you're gonna do?" he accused. "How do you know what's happenin'?"
Malcolm had to speak up in protest as well. "What are you basing your assessment on? I'm all for getting back into this fight, going into battle again with you, but where are you getting your information from?'
Mac turned to them and smiled grimly. "You'll just have to trust me," she said simply. "You of all people should know if the deflector shield goes down, the Vorloren fleet will obliterate what's left of the Lasiterians. We can't let that happen. Hoshi and Travis are in danger there as well." She was very adamant, and then she confessed, "I can hear Hoshi's ardent mental plea for help. It's her greatest desire to have Lieutenant Reed or myself come to her aid. I'm not going to just leave her and those she's with to perish."
"You're really are gonna do it aren't you?" Trip demanded again, panic in his voice. "Based on a voice in your head?" Reed could see him struggling with how to handle this new development.
Is this another psionic ability or is Mac losing her mind? Malcolm wondered to himself. Is Hoshi really in danger?
"Yes, Trip, I am," Mac said in a tone that booked no further argument. "I am going to embrace my destiny and stop Solin from changing history. I am going to fight his army and save the Lasiterians." Trip couldn't seem to answer her; the look of determination and conviction in her eyes must have stopped the words in his mouth. He was going to have to accept her decision, as was Malcolm.
"What do you want us to do?" Reed queried when Trip fell silent. Trip smiled a grateful smile at him. This was all for one and one for all time, and the two humans made their choice to throw in with the underdogs. They were the good guys here, and they needed all the help they could get. Malcolm knew he and Trip were just going to have to trust that Mac's sanity wasn't slipping and that she knew what in the hell she was doing.
Wolachea had most of his men moved out, down the tunnel. A group was waiting for Mac to split off and use another, separate tunnel. The war chief stopped the transgenic with a hand on her arm before she too moved off. "You need a weapon," was all he said as he pulled out from a holder behind his back containing two sais. He took her right hand and placed them in it. Mac stared at them in horror, going pale and her mouth open in shock.
"You want me to use these? Where did you find them?" she croaked out. Malcolm wondered what why she was reacting that way to such fine weaponry.
He got his answer quickly from Wolachea. "Don't you think it is appropriate that the weapons that you once wielded in the slaughter of my people should be washed clean by shedding the blood of our enemies in our defense?" he asked in a heavy tone, and then continued, "I found them out on the battlefield covered in Lasiterian blood. Someone carelessly left such fine weaponry lying in the dirt." Malcolm almost choked at the chief's wording, so closely matching his own in his mind.
In some strange way Wolachea's words made sense to Reed. It was an eye for an eye time, time for a reckoning. The Lasiterians who had been driven, beaten, and tortured would now fight full out to defend their wives, their husbands, their children, their freedom, and their religion. They would not hold back this time; this was the endgame. Mac would be their avenging angel. She had the power to route the Vorloren super soldier army. The Lasiterians would make every effort to fight their enemy, but in the end it would come down to Mac and her abilities.
"I will do as you wish," Mac replied softly, flipping the sais around a few times, getting a feel for them again, apparently coming to the same conclusion Malcolm had.
"I also have a change of clothing for you," Wolachea said, springing another surprise on his people's Dark Guardian. "I, and my people, would be honored if you would wear the uniform that was made especially for the Dark Guardian, if she was ever really found."
A beautiful Lasiterian woman with raven black hair stepped out of the shadows with a garment in her hands. The woman herself was wearing a dark brown tunic and leather pants. Her blue eyes gleamed with excitement. Mac glanced over the proffered outfit. The material looked like leather, but when Mac touched it, it wavered like silk. The "uniform" consisted of a sleeveless top that hooked around a person's neck. It would cover Mac's curves and yet accentuate them too. It appeared like the top would hit her just below her belly button, leaving a slit skin showing on her sides. The pants would be form fitting and protective. They came with what looked like a thin utility belt to hold weapons around her waist with. The belt fastened with a gorgeous silver buckle in the shape of the mythical figure; it was a Chimera. Malcolm watched Mac blanch when she noticed it.
There were also strong and sturdy boots with a slight heel that came with the outfit, along some gauntlets for her arms as well. They would go from her wrist to her elbow in a crisscross pattern. Upper arms bands made of silver with some kind of fancy script were included too. Malcolm noticed that the transgenic was in awe of Wolachea's gift. Trip looked at Malcolm in wonder. Things were starting to turn sideways on Malcolm, and Trip too. This couldn't be happening; it was too much to believe for the well-grounded tactical officer.
It took Mac only a few moments to change out of the repugnant Vorloren super soldier uniform and into the exotic Lasiterian garb. It fit her perfectly, like it was made exactly for her. Trip and Malcolm both did a double take as Mac appeared before them again. She looked fabulous, a real femme fatale. She had pulled her hair back again into a pony tail. The sais now rested in little holders on each side of the weapons' utility belt she wore, plus Wolachea had given her two phase pistols that she had holstered on the sides of the belt. Trip tried to shake himself, but he couldn't stop staring. Malcolm was also trying to control the direction his thoughts had decided to go as he gazed at the genetically engineered woman.
"Let's get going," Wolachea hollered from somewhere up the tunnel. "Lieutenant Reed, you're with me, and Commander Tucker should go with McKenna." Divide and conquer was definitely the way to go here. Malcolm was eager to get into the fight again, and make sure Hoshi was all right.
Mac quickly joined the group of Lasiterians waiting for her at the entrance to a different tunnel than Wolachea and his group had taken. Trip was close on her heels. A Lasiterian soldier handed Trip a set of pulse pistols to equip him with a set of weapons too. Trip nodded his thanks, and he saluted Malcolm as they took their separate paths.
Trip moved quickly behind Mac, his mind racing with strange thoughts. The newest revelations about Mac weighing heavily on him. As he watched her, his brain began to ponder a connection between Mac and his favorite horror movie character, Frankenstein. He couldn't believe it had taken him this long to see the resemblance. The similarities were uncanny. Both were forced into existence in unnatural ways by men of science, wanting to improve the human race, and that had gone against the natural order of things when they brought their wildest imaginings to life. The man who had created the Frankenstein monster had the first name of Victor. That was the first name of the man who had created Mac. The Frankenstein monster had been pieced together from many different pieces of various dead people, making him a Chimera of sorts. Mac's DNA was spliced together from a myriad of sources and her dark side liked to be called the Chimera.
When the Frankenstein monster was first brought to life, he had been an innocent, like a child. He hadn't known right from wrong, or good from evil. He had started out with a gentle nature, only wanting to be loved and to belong. Because of the abandonment of his creator, and the way people misjudge him because of his grotesque appearance and treated him harshly and brutally, he became a killer. Being rejected by humankind he wanted nothing more than to get revenge for all his pain and suffering. Mac had been born with a good soul. She had been loved for a time, and then her father had been ripped away from her and ruthlessly murdered in front of her. Then she had been used by a government agency to do as they bid. She had been consumed by hatred and the thirst for revenge; she had become a killer.
The Frankenstein story ended tragically and violently. Mac was getting the chance to have a different, more optimistic ending to her story. She was choosing a different path than the one the Frankenstein monster had chosen. She had people who cared about her and saw her for what she really was. Not a monster, not a demon, but a dark angel, a savior of sorts. Trip couldn't help but smile. It was amazing how a little love, compassion, and understanding could make a world of difference in the formation of a person's life. They were underappreciated qualities, but qualities that had infinite power and influence. Trip rededicated himself to make sure Mac would get plenty of them to keep her on the right path.
It was very strange where one's mind could wander. His mind had become so active in contemplating all that had been going on, that it now couldn't help musing about and combining two of his favorite things. The chief engineer also wondered what T'Pol would think of his thoughts. He smiled to himself again. It felt good to think about the Vulcan woman. She tended to sober him up and remind him of what was important.
Trip loved T'Pol with all of his heart. She had made it clear, in time, she would come around to loving him too. Why he kept being tempted by Mac was beyond him. It was just a temptation that he would have to resist. He had meant what he said to Malcolm earlier; Mac was family, and Mac needed his friendship, not his longing for her feminine body. He had to stop those kinds of thoughts from getting the better of him. Besides, she was the Captain's woman; the woman his best friend was in love with. He strongly wished that he could feel something through his bond with T'Pol, some glimmer of cool logic, but it still didn't come to him. Trip prayed T'Pol was all right, and that he would see her again. Once this was all over, he was going to spend some serious one-on-one time with the Vulcan woman and help her through whatever it was that was holding her back. He wouldn't give up on her, just like he wouldn't give up on Mac.
Archer came back to the reality of his cell on the Vorloren battleship. He felt reenergized, rejuvenated, and reassured; Mac loved him and he loved her. She was going to follow her destiny and be the protector Fate or whatever powerful being had planned for her to be. He was also very aware that he needed to act and act now to help her succeed. Something was wrong among the Vorlorens, and he had to uncover it so the problem could be fixed. The Captain looked over and saw Amy, the temporal agent, beaming at him.
"I take it by the contented look on your face that you found the answers you were looking for?" she asked gently.
"At least some of them," he replied. "The ones that concern the woman I love."
Amy's smile widened at his words. It was nice to know that your ancestors really did care about one another. "Good," she said, and then turned serious again. "Since this is the first time, in a while, that you've been rational," she said and smirked at him, "you probably missed the part of the action where Hister decided to employ his new super weapon to annihilate what is left of the Lasiterians. He and Romdel's super soldier army is not what they expected, and without the use of the cybernetic implant, the super soldiers just aren't as superior as they thought they would be. They are formidable, but not unbeatable.
"Romdel and Hister were too hurried in their attempt at their design and activation in the field. They didn't have Mac's full DNA profile to work with at the time either. Plus, human and Vorloren DNA are not very compatible it would seem. Hister apparently decided to have a back up plan in place. We need to stop Hister from actually using his new super weapon. I have to confirm, for history's sake, that he actually built it and tried to use it. Once I have recorded of proof of that, we must destroy it and capture Hister."
Archer looked at her for a moment in deep contemplation. He was starting to make the connections he needed to make. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place. Now that he could think clearly again, as the young temporal agent had noted, the answers were obvious. "Hister isn't really a Vorloren is he?" He paused when he saw Amy's face show her surprise at his deduction. "He's from another faction in the future trying to change history to dominate time, just like Vosk tried to do, isn't he?" His gut feelings had been right all along; he was sure of it.
"Your assumption would be correct, Jon," Amy admitted to him, but offered no further information.
"Who is he really?" Archer demanded now. "I need to know who the hell I am dealing with."
Amy broke her eye contact and stood up. She paced to the front of the small prison and leaned against the bars, facing away from the Captain. Finally, she spoke. "His species is called the Gorn," she explained. "I wasn't sure until just a little while ago that it was Hister that the Gorn had chosen to disguise himself as. We've been trying for quite a while now to figure out who didn't fit in the picture here. We knew the Gorn was here, but not whom he was hiding behind."
"The Gorn?" the Captain repeated. "I have heard that name somewhere before," he paused, trying to place where he had actually heard of that species. It didn't take long to come to him. "Someone from the Orion Syndicate mentioned trading with the Gorn Hegemony. That they made good liquor, but that they were a difficult species to get along with."
"You have an excellent memory, Jon," Amy told him, shaking her head in amazement. "You're correct again."
Archer stood up and walked to stand beside her. "I try to remember who potential hostile species are, as to not run into them unprepared or at all."
Amy laughed at his statement and turned to face him again. "You are an interesting character, Jon. I'll give you that." She stared at him of a long time before she spoke again; trying to deal with the fact that she was really talking to him; that he was real and in front of her. He was her hero; that she was here to help him was mind-boggling to say the least. "At some time far in the future, the Gorn decide to mess around with the possibility of time travel. They seem like a very barbaric race on the outside, looking like giant reptiles, but they are extremely intelligent and resourceful. The Gorn are very territorial. They do not react well to any incursion into their space, or what they think is their space. They constantly move in and claim new territory regardless if it's already occupied by others."
"And what does this Gorn want?" the Captain asked her. "Why is he trying to eradicate the Lasiterians? What are they to him?"
Amy broke her eye contact again. She wasn't sure how much she could tell him. She desperately wanted to tell him everything, but that was not allowed. She could get in big trouble if she told him too much. She finally settled with part of the truth. "The Lasiterians are key in creating the Temporal Accords and setting up the group I represent to police the timeline. Because of what is happening now, the Lasiterians realize how dangerous rogue time travelers can be. They convince many good and noble species to set up a way to protect the past and still allow for people to study it up close and personal."
"So this Gorn," Archer stopped, realizing he didn't know its name.
"Solin," Amy helpfully supplied for him.
"So this Gorn, Solin, wants to wipe out the Lasiterians before they can become instrumental in setting up the rules of time travel? He's been the one that has kept the civil war going, sending out all the propaganda, and using the Vorlorens' fears and prejudices for his own purposes?" It was more of a question than a statement, for now it was the Captain's turn to shake his head in amazement.
Amy walked away from Archer again. It was getting hard to be so close to him. "Yup," she replied. "He had the father of the current High Monarch assassinated. Then he used his mind-manipulating drugs on his son and took over the government completely. The problem is we had to allow him to come to the past and at least begin to try and change it, so that the Lasiterians would be inspired to design the Temporal Accords in the first place. But even by allowing him to do that made it hard to stop it from spiraling out of control. Then the Suliban showed up with their own agenda and seriously hampered our ability to make sure things turned out the right way. Your involvement has not been what it originally should have been. Somehow the Suliban found a way to pull you in way too early." She stopped herself as she realized she was telling him too much.
"All the messages Starfleet Intelligence intercepted were planted," Archer said in understanding. Silik had lied to him again. He claimed that he and his people were just trying to put things right. In their own minds they might have been, but in the process they had only added to the confusion.
Amy turned back to him once again, a look of confusion creasing her lovely face. "What messages?" she asked in a quiet voice.
The Captain stepped closer to her again. "You mean you didn't know about them?" he questioned, trying to get her to look at him.
"No," she whispered, horrified that this had slipped passed her and her people, "we didn't." Damn the Suliban and their benefactor!
Archer elaborated for her. "Starfleet Intelligence had been monitoring the last known position of the Cabal's Helix, just to keep their eyes open. Some way SI was able to pick up and decipher three key transmissions from the Cabal to an unknown source. Each message hinted at using the Vorloren system as a base to interfere with the interspecies alliance that Earth has been trying to organize and establish. Starfleet Command and the Vulcan High Command grew very worried about this and sent me and my crew to investigate what was really going on. Finding Mac was totally unexpected."
"That I do not doubt," the young temporal agent fumed. "Future Guy is responsible for that. The Vorlorens were never originally supposed to find her. You weren't supposed to meet her through them." Amy then looked at Archer in alarm. She had just said too much. She could have smacked herself. In her anger she had let more than she should have slip out.
"What?" the Captain said, coming to the knowledge that Amy knew a lot more than she was letting on. "Are you saying that Mac and I were always supposed to meet, but just not because of the Vorlorens?" He was totally shocked. Mac was fated to be part of his life. It was not just the Vorlorens or the Suliban and their benefactor's scheming. He and Mac were meant to find each other; this fact floored Archer. He couldn't quite grasp it all. "And Silik lied about trying to protect history. He and his people are trying to change it to suit themselves."
Amy back away from Archer, her hand over her mouth. She tried frantically to get out of the cell and out of the Captain's presence, completely embarrassed. He was not about to let her escape him, until he got his answers. He was so sick of being the last one to know about his own life. Everyone around him seemed to know what was going on, but him.
"Oh, no you don't, little one," he told her. In a few quick strides he was on her and grabbed her upper arms forcefully. "You aren't going anywhere. You are going to tell me what the hell is going on here." His voice was harsh and angry. He actually shook her a little bit.
Archer thought Amy was going to fight him, but instead she sagged in his grip. She wouldn't look at him. Her head was down, so he couldn't see her face, but he swore she was sniffling. The Captain eased up on his grip. Am I hurting her? Did I really scared her that badly? I didn't mean to. He took one hand and gently lifted her chin so he could see her face. Bright, wet tears were falling down her cheeks. She had started to shake. He let go of her completely, and then hugged her to him. He felt like he had just been unfairly mean to a little sister or his mother. It was weirding him out.
"I'm sorry, Amy. It's okay. I didn't mean to hurt you or scare you, sweetheart," he cooed to her.
This apology made her sob harder. Archer didn't know what to do; this was not the reaction he had been expecting. Then a muffled reply came from somewhere against his chest. "You didn't hurt me," she said shakily. "I want to tell you everything so badly, Jonny," there was that use of his nickname again, "but I can't. I would never be able to travel back in time again if I did. But I don't want you to hate me; you mean too much to me."
The admission hit Archer like a punch in the gut. This young woman was suffering from hero worship, and he was acting like an ass. Daniels had displayed a little bit of the same hero worship. Somehow, the people in the future had made him out to be larger than life. He was just Jonathan Archer; he didn't deserve any special treatment or to be so well thought of. That people in the future held him up on such a high pedestal, really unnerved him; he was just one man, nothing special.
"All right, I understand," he whispered to her softly. "Tell me what you can. I won't press you. I just hate being in the dark about my own life. It's really quite terrifying to tell you the truth. And I could never hate you, Amy. You remind me too much of my mother. That's probably why they picked you to contact me. They knew I'd be able relate to you." But another thought had begun to develop in his mind. It was one that seemed totally impossible, but the more he worked it out and placed all the facts he'd learned in context, it made the most sense. He just needed a little bit more data to confirm his suspicions.
He felt Amy stiffen in his arms at his comment. He received part of his data from her reaction. Then she relaxed and the weeping lessened. He felt her tremble as she tried to steady her shuddery breathing. She pulled back and finally looked at him. "I really would like to be able to spill my guts to you, but I am forbidden to that," she said with a raspy voice. "Let me just say, that you and Mac, in all the recorded history we have, are supposed to meet. I'm just sorry it was under these circumstances."
"Fair enough." Archer wasn't happy, but he would have to settle for her answer. He was watching her face very closely now, watching for a sign that would prove his hypothesis correct.
"We need to stop Solin from using his weapon of, literally, mass destruction," Amy said, trying to pull herself together. She was now mortified that she had gone to pieces on him; she just admired him so much. The temporal agent did not want a part of her family tree to be disappointed in her or think her a horrible person. "He calls it the Atomizer, because it breaks down all matter at the atomic level, completely destroying everything its ray comes into contact with. Molecules lose their cohesion and can't hold together. Electrons and protons just scatter or dissolve. Matter actually comes apart at the submolecular level. Before he had you thrown in the brig, he ordered Romdel to prepare it for deployment. We have to get down to the planet and disable it. If not, the Lasiterians really will be exterminated." Having to explain some of the technical information about the Gorn's weapon helped bring her a measure of control and composure.
"We have to go down to the planet?" he queried. The thought was not unpleasant to him. It meant he would be able to see Mac that much sooner. Being away from her was still a very difficult situation to deal with.
"I'm afraid so," Amy informed him, finally looking him in the eye again. "The weapon has to be land based. It's too large and complex to try and incorporate it into the design of a Vorloren battleship. Besides, its technology isn't compatible with that of the Vorlorens. He would have had to find another way to transport and assemble the weapon. The Gorn will deploy it on the ground. He will also have to find a way to take out the Lasiterians deflector shield. It wouldn't completely stop the weapon, but it would impede its effectiveness down to a level that Solin would find unacceptable."
"I'm with you," Archer said as he continued to hold her. "I'll help you in anyway I can. Your mission's important, you're important. I'm sorry if I made you feel otherwise. You have a lot of pressure on you, and I don't need to add to it."
Amy hugged him back with all her might. "Thank you, Jon. I'm sorry I and my people have to keep interfering in your life. It's not fair to you, but you're the pioneer in human space exploration. You're responsible for a lot of firsts. It goes with the territory," Amy told him, enjoying being close to him. It was like being hugged by her father.
"I guess you're right," Archer chuckled. "I never looked at it that way before. What are going to do about him?" he then asked, thumbing at Silik locked in the next cell, still unconscious. "We can't just leave him here, but he can't know about you. That would ruin everything you're trying to accomplish."
Now it was Amy's turn to know that the Captain was right. "I don't think we can convince him to help," she said without much hope. "His benefactor's meddling is one of the reasons why things are so messed up."
"Can you disguise yourself again, as Ashoria, and tell him what you've discovered? Use what we know to our advantage. Turn it around so we can trick him into helping us. Silik could be helpful, but I still don't completely trust that two-timing alien," Archer said jokingly, and then became serious again. "I don't think the Suliban really want to see the Lasiterians slaughtered, do you? Or maybe it would lift Future Guy's restrictions on time travel?" he commented, thinking that might be the ulterior motive behind the Suliban's benefactor's actions.
"No, his restrictions are of a technological nature," Amy replied. "The Suliban probably want Solin's time travel technology so that they can give it to their benefactor. Then he could travel through time personally. Maybe I could get Silik to believe that I've found it and make him think we were going to retrieve it, while in reality we would be going after the Atomizer. He wouldn't object to rescuing you either. You're a big part of his assignment anyway."
"Great," Archer said sarcastically. "Let's wake him up then and get this show on the road. Do you think we can get off this ship without getting caught?"
"Yes, I think we can manage that," Amy said and finally gave him her full, charming smile. And there it was; his last piece of proof. That smile could have been Mac's.
He'd now seen expressions that reminded him of his mother, and he had seen looks on her face that mirrored Mac's almost perfectly. And her eyes, how could he not see that they were exactly like his? Amy was his and Mac's descendant. She had to be, the evidence was all there right in front of him. That's why she reminder him of his mother or a little sister, and at times Mac. They had to be genetically related. Daniels had sent a very distant and future relative to help him this time. Probably to tame his wrath and to also give him hope. Daniels would know that Archer would figure it all out. The Captain was observant, when in his right mind, and he was good at solving puzzles, if given enough clues to follow.
This realization had his head spinning. It meant that he and Mac would someday have children. He had always wondered what kind of father he would make, but he never seriously believed that it would happen. Archer feared that his side of the Archer line would end with him; evidently it didn't. This delighted him, but it also scared the shit out of him. Could I really be responsible for shaping and molding the lives of innocent children? And when is this miraculous event supposed to happen? Will there be more than one child?
Finally, the purpose of Silik's voyeurism hit Archer. Why he just understood it now, made him feel very dim-witted. The main purpose of mating, or sexual relations between a man and a woman, a male and a female, was to perpetuate the species. Silik's benefactor wanted recorded evidence of the fact that the Captain and Mac were actively intimate. He needed to know that Mac was in the process of attempting to conceive a child. The strong pull and overwhelming feelings of attraction Archer had towards Mac had been not only to strength the bond between them, but a literal mating drive, a drive to have a child.
This began to worry the Captain and brought forth another question. Why was Future Guy interest in a child that he and Mac might produce, or would produce? A sick feeling began to build in Archer's gut. He was beginning to fear that Future Guy might want to wipe out the Captain and Mac's descendants to rid him of his competition in the Temporal Cold War. Or worse still, one day coerce them into helping him to try and control time travel. He wouldn't want to see Amy switch sides; that would be horrible.
"Between Suliban technology and some of my own, I think it should be a piece of cake," Amy finished. Archer had a sneaking suspicion that he had missed some of what she had been saying.
"We need to come up with a good excuse as to why Silik lost consciousness," the Captain stated the obvious, trying to appear nonchalant. He didn't want Amy to know he knew who she possibly could be, or where his thoughts had just been.
"Let's pick a fight with the guards outside and just tell him he got phased by one of them," Amy said with great enthusiasm.
Archer couldn't help but laugh at the simplicity of her idea. "Okay," he said through his chuckling. "Go for it. Although, you might want to drag his ass out of the cell he's in, and give me a weapon, just to be more convincing."
"I like how you think, Jonny. I really do," Amy said as she giggled in response to his comment. She liked his sense of humor. Then with total seriousness she said, "Let's do this."
TBC
Okay, what do you think? Was this chapter any good? How do you think it is all going to turn out? Any guesses????