Disclaimer: Enterprise and its characters are property of CBS/Paramount.

A/N After a secret mission goes terrible wrong, Trip and his team members are declared dead. Trip's mission leader is Roger Dubois. His brother Henry is a journalist on Earth. When evidence is presented that Trip is alive, a rescue team is formed.

Due to her pregnancy, T'Pol stays at Starfleet Medical Facilities. On request of admiral Black she contacts the rescue team.

Many thanks to my beta Dinah.

Translation of Romulan words:

Tan qalanq – a sword

Veruul – an insulting way of addressing someone

Part one

Location: San Francisco, Earth, Starfleet Medical Facility

Turquoise - It was a week after she had contacted the Lincoln, that the news story of her so-called betrayal broke. T'Pol could hear the nurses talking about it. Humans didn't seem to realize that with her superior Vulcan hearing she could hear all the gossip and rumors about her.

Doctor Cutler had been angry when she heard the story. "That people would believe you sold technology to the Romulans," she had complained. "And Starfleet Communication isn't helping much." The doctor had called the three nurses that helped her and explained to them that the rumors were untrue. After that, two of the nurses were as friendly and good humored as before. One nurse, nurse Surwewai seemed to still feel uncomfortable around her.

It was time for her daily injections. Nurse Surwewai entered her room. She requested her to be seated in a wheelchair. It was the first time she asked such a thing. T'Pol took her seat in the wheelchair. The artificial womb weighed heavily on her shoulders. Around the straps that held the womb attached to her body, her skin was itching. It was most uncomfortable.

Surwewai looked pale and depressed. She placed the turquoise-colored cylinders of the medication in the hypospray. Normally she would do this with professional ease, but today the cylinders almost slipped from her fingers.

The nurse showed all the signs of being nervous. T'Pol was about to ask her if she was fine, but she suppressed her impulse. Even after working with Humans for years and being bonded to a Human, she sometimes failed in interpreting Human reactions. Perhaps the nurse had a lot on her mind. She had heard that Surwewai was a single mother with a small child; her husband had died during the war.

Nurse Surwewai was ready with her preparations. T'Pol offered her neck. Twenty seconds later, T'Pol felt dizzy and groggy. A wave of nausea engulfed her. Her mouth became dry. All symptoms she never had experienced with the previous hyposprays. T'Pol wanted to raise her hand and press the alarm button to warn doctor Cutler, but she couldn't move.

Rage welled up in her. T'Pol didn't care about her own risky situation or that the nurse had betrayed her. Her daughter, the baby in her womb, was in danger. She would die trying to protect her child. With all her might, she tried to move, but her world became black.

Part two

Location: San Francisco, Earth

Turquoise – Dressed in a fitting turquoise dress, the woman across the table was a beautiful sight. Henry Dubois was sitting on a terrace, enjoying the sun on his face and talking to this beautiful, intelligent woman, an old colleague from his war correspondence days.

He felt relaxed. He was enjoying the good things this day offered him. His mood, clouded by the recent death of his brother Roger, became lighter. He smiled to Allison Gama. He had bumped into her near his office building and she had invited him for lunch. Truth to be told, he always wanted to know Allison better.

The waiter had already set the plates and laid down the cutlery as they waited for their lunch to arrive. As Allison was as much a news junky as he, their topic of conversation was the T'Pol story that hit the news rooms two nights ago. According to so called reliable sources T'Pol was accused of stealing technology developed by the late Commander Tucker and selling it to the Romulans.

"It's a good story," Allison said, with a smile that showed her perfect teeth. "Emotion, sensation, a great narrative, it's all there. People love this stuff."

He had been annoyed about the whole tale from the minute the media ran the story. "That doesn't make it true."

Allison laughed, "Don't expect the media to be on the side of Starfleet forever. We made Starfleet great during the war. But now Earth has beaten the Rommies, times are changing."

After the Romulans had nuked several major cities on Earth at the beginning of the war, the mood on Earth had drastically changed. The media had become a supporter of Starfleet. But lately other voices seemed to dominate the news with the approval of the big media corporations.

"In the war we reported the facts," he stressed.

"During the war, the facts were sensational and emotional. Your life depended on whether you watched the news. We showed people the war in their living room."

As Allison spoke, images of reports he had made came to mind: areas in total ruin after the nukes; the flooded areas after the tsunami's; the faces of the courageous people on a Starfleet ship fighting for Earth. But there was always one image, the most painful, that haunted him the most: rows of children, babies, mothers and elderly people on a dusty planet, killed by Romulans soldiers.

"We also showed them how destructive the Rommies are, and the brave people who fought them," Henry answered. "People like T'Pol. Together with Tucker, she created the technology to beat the Romulans. She never would betray her crew and certainly not him."

"She is Vulcan," Allison's voice dripped with disdain. "Why would she care about us Humans or about her old lover? She didn't seem very upset at Tucker's funeral."

Everybody had seen the same 1 minute broadcasted fragment of the funeral of Tucker on the news. One snapshot of T'Pol and everybody thinks she doesn't care he thought.

"Just because someone isn't crying their eyes out during a funeral, doesn't mean they don't care."

He never would forget the raw anguish in his father's eyes during his brother's funeral. But his father, taught never to show his emotions in public, hadn't shed a tear. He had seen the same look in the eyes of T'Pol during their interview. Whatever people said, T'Pol had loved Tucker.

He didn't want to share something so personally with someone who was almost a stranger, especially when he realized he wasn't so different than his father. He missed his brother every day. But hardly anyone would suspect how deep his grief went.

To his relief, their conversation was interrupted by the waiter who brought their lunch.

"I heard you have found a new job," he said, eager to change the subject.

"I am assigned to the press team of Filipa Namara."

He took a sip from his espresso. "The anti-Federation presidential candidate?"

"Pro-Earth candidate. She has many excellent ideas about bringing health and wellbeing to the people of Earth. She is everything that Earth needs in a President."

He knew about Namara and her movement. She was very popular in the media and supported by influential lobby groups. During the war, new nations had risen to power, creating production lines for food, supplies and the material Starfleet needed for their ships. Those nations supported Namara.

Namara's ideas were the usual political babble. Her slogan "Peace, Prosperity and Pride" was nothing new. She was just one of those politicians eager to gain power for her lobby groups. She was nice, very likable and photogenic. In a world where image was everything, she was the woman to support. She had not only gained the trust from of the media and the global industrialists, but also from pre-war groups like Peace Now and Mother Earth.

Her stance against Starfleet and the Federation concerned him. He had also been very critical of Starfleet during and after the war – HQ officers were a bunch of bureaucrats - but Earth needed Starfleet. And Earth needed the Federation.

"I am curious," he said. "Why does Namara want to end the alliance between Vulcan, Andoria and Tellar? We just signed the charter for the foundation of the Federation."

"It's simple. The war."

"The war?" He didn't understand.

"Exploration never leads to good things," Allison said, in a lecturing tone. "Shortly after Starfleet was launched, we had two major wars: the Xindi and the Romulan War. Billions of people have died. Not only did the Rommies nuke us and obliterate five of our major cities, many died of radiation poisoning."

"I know," he said softly, thinking about his sister-in-law Mariko and the horrible painful way she had died.

"None of this would have happened if we just stayed home, on Earth," Allison said, her voice thick with emotion. "And before you say, we beat the Rommies, yes we did. The Humans did, with little help from the Andorians and Vulcans. We did it all by ourselves. But it did cost too much. It needs to end."

"To sum up, you think if Starfleet never was launched, they would be no Xindi attack or Romulan War. And the Federation isn't helping us, because we did it all by ourselves. We saved Earth."

"Exactly," Allison said, smiling vaguely. "You understand. We hoped you make a nice addition to our press crew."

That was the last job he wanted. He sighed. "I get your point, Allison, I really do. But Earth can't go back. The universe knows we have warp technology. Even if we shut down Starfleet, our enemies will still come for us. We didn't beat the Rommies, we have given them a setback. They are determined to conquer the galaxy, to expand their empire. The Rommies think they are superior to us. They don't care about us. They want us dead or slaves."

Allison frowned. In an icy voice she said, "Still we don't need the Federation. Earth can take care of itself."

"We used Vulcan, Andorian and Tellarite technology to beat the Rommies. Besides, Earth is the leader of the Federation. If we leave now, we are never going to be in that position of power again. Then the other species will tell us what to do. We can't miss this opportunity. The Federation is the only way forward for Earth."

As he spoke, he realized that despite his criticism of Starfleet, he held the men and women who fought the war in high regard. They were the best Earth had to offer.

Like his brother or Arthur, his brother's commanding officer and also a good friend. Both had paid the price of war.

Seeing all the horrors of the war, they both had become distant and withdrawn. Their families on Earth hadn't understood. After the war Arthur's wife had filed for divorce and sole custody of their two children.

Arthur had been struggling with addiction and depression. His brother had offered to help him. Nowhere to go, Arthur had stayed in Roger's house, without anyone in Starfleet knowing about it. He used to visit his brother every day and Arthur had become of friend of his too. Strangely enough, he hadn't heard from Arthur after his brother had died.

Allison's voice brought him back to the present. They spoke some more about Namara's ideas and then it was time to go back to work. Allison had invited him for lunch, but by custom he waved at the waiter indicating that he wanted to pay the bill. He expected Allison, aware of his Dutch background, to make a joke like "Let's go Dutch" or something along that line. But she just gave him a smile, muttered, "Nice talking to you," and off she went. Allison definitely was not interested in him.

As he walked back to the office, he saw a man and woman walking towards him. The man had short, gray hair and broad eyebrows and a stern look on his face. He was dressed in a blue suit. Henry recognized him at once.

It was Arthur. Arthur Peterson, the same person he just been thinking about. He was happy to see his friend.

"Arthur!" he greeted, "good to see you. How are you?"

Arthur Peterson squinted his eyes and frowned. "I am in a hurry," he said shortly. "I don't have time." He gave a short nod to the woman walking next to him. She was wearing a turquoise dress and matching blue coat and shoes. Around her neck there was a necklace with an unusual shaped turquoise stone. Her blond hair was neatly fasted in a roll at the back of her neck. She looked every inch a lady. The woman gave Henry a superior look as they passed by.

If this lady was Arthur's new girlfriend, he pitied him.

He was about to resume his course, back to the office, when he got an idea. Henry hadn't seen any person from Starfleet lately or heard about them in the media. This wasn't good. What if he arranged an interview with Arthur? He would make sure it would be good publicity, something Starfleet desperately needed. Perhaps he could even learn more about the way his brother died.

If he didn't try, he would never know.

He turned around. In the distance he could still see the blue coat of the lady. Arthur must be close by. He rushed forward, bumping into people, but never leaving them out of sight. After 5 minutes fast-walking, he saw Arthur and the lady crossing the road and heading to Starfleet Medical Facilities. They didn't go to the main entrance, but to the delivery entrance near a parking lot. Henry saw the woman go in while Arthur waited outside. Henry stopped, while people around him kept walking. He contemplated whether he should approach Arthur, but there was something odd about the whole situation.

He stayed put and watched how Arthur talked to a driver of a van, who just delivered a package. They disappeared behind the van. Then he saw Arthur again, without the driver, but the van didn't take off.

He saw the woman in turquois coming out of the building. She was pushing a wheelchair. Inside of it was a woman, head to the side, eyes closed, like she was sleeping. Or unconscious. Even from a distant, he recognized her familiar Vulcan face.

Without thinking, he crossed the road quickly and rushed toward the parking lot.

"Arthur!" he shouted. A blast of lighting hit him, knocking him off his feet. A burning pain in his chest consumed him. He had been shot. His world became darkness.

Part three

Location: San Francisco, Earth, a few hours earlier

Turquoise – The trees and bushes hide Felena from strangers' eyes, but he knew where to look. She was standing at the appointed place. She wore a turquoise dress and matching blue coat and shoes. Perfectly fitted for the Human woman she pretended to be. Too much color for his taste, as was the world around her. The color green dominated in the trees nearby and the grass under her feet. The sun playing through the tree leaves gave the surroundings an even greener glow.

He had lived on Earth now for ten years, but still he wasn't used to the exuberant green colors of this planet.

Felena was holding binoculars in her hand and stared through them. He knew what she was watching. Black's apartment. Hank Black, the enemy. Starfleet admiral and Felena's old lover.

He took his place next to her. She didn't respond and stood perfectly straight next to him, staring through her binoculars, like it was the most natural thing to do.

"When we raise the mighty Tan qalanq," he said in English, quoting the first part of a famous Romulan poem.

"Fear is pierced into the heart of our enemies," Felena responded, without missing a beat.

In his mind he added the next phase of the poem, "Let us follow the path of right - The war is won in the minds of the people."

Felena turned to him, looking poised and controlled. He noticed she was wearing human jewelry on her neck, a necklace with a turquoise stone.

"It's time," he said. "I parked the shuttle nearby. We're taken a great risk. A lot of factors are unsure. What about the nurse? What if the daughter can't communicate to the Veruul what happened to her?"

Felena put her binoculars into her purse, which was the same hideous color as her dress. "Don't worry. The nurse is working for us. We will force the daughter to cooperate. A phaser pistol to her belly would do the trick."

They returned to his shuttle and flew back to a shuttle bay near the center of San Francisco. From there it was a 45-minute walk to their destination.

Around them people were walking and talking. Near the streets, people were sitting on terraces, drinking and relaxing in the sun. He thought it was a waste of their precious time, but he knew from experience that Humans excelled in wasting time and energy on non-essential things.

As he navigated through the street a stranger approached him and gave him a smile. He was a tall male, wearing a beard, a Human custom he still found hard to get used to.

"Arthur!" the bearded man said "Good to see you. How are you?"

The man whose identity he had stolen three months ago was indeed called Arthur Peterson. He had studied all his co-workers, friends and family. Not that there had been much to study. Peterson had been a workaholic. His wife had just divorced him and fortunately, Peterson wasn't allowed to see his children. He didn't seem to have friends, except Lieutenant Dubois. But Dubois was taken out of the equation. The Orions had taking care of him.

He racked his brain. Who was this person in front of him? His mind was empty.

"I am in a hurry," he said, wanting to avoid any interaction with the man "I don't have time."

The bearded man looked flabbergasted, as he walked quickly by. Felena followed suit.

When they reached their destination, they went to the parking lot near the delivery entrance. The parking lot was empty and he had already disabled the surveillance cameras this morning. Across the road people were walking, in a hurry and with no interest what happened in the parking lot. He handed Felena a white doctor's coat and name tag and cracked the entrance codes. Felena walked in.

A delivery van pulled up, the driver got out and carried a parcel into the building. When the driver came back, he stunned the driver and placed him in the van. He cuffed and blindfolded him. A murder would be more suspicious than a simple disappearance.

Felena came back, pushing a wheelchair with the unconscious target, strapped into the chair.

"Arthur!" he heard a man shouting. He turned around, but Felena had already shot the man with her phaser. The bearded man crashed to the ground.

He focused on getting away. He lifted the wheelchair into the back of the van while Felena stepped in. She would keep the chair stable and prevent it from falling. He jumped into the van and drove off.

Five miles further down the road, he drove the vehicle into another parking lot. He placed the still unconscious driver in the driver's seat of the van, took his cuffs and blindfold off and walked away with Felena and their target in the wheelchair.

Felena pushed the wheelchair to a small park nearby. She settled on a bench, perfectly at ease. He rushed to their shuttle and then returned to pick her up.

It was not until they flew off in the shuttle, that he gave himself permission to relax. Nebem, son of Ruma, of the clan Tendot, altered in the likeness of the Human Arthur Peterson, smiled.

They got the target. They got T'Pol.

Part four

Turquoise – The usual odor of hospital disinfectants was gone. Instead, she smelled something metallic. But there was more. Her sense of smell had been intensified during her pregnancy. She could smell two persons nearby. One with perfume, a female, and a male. They both lacked the typical smell of Humans.

New senses kicked in. T'Pol heard the familiar buzz of a shuttle. In her back she felt the board of the wheelchair, the cold metal of the armrest beneath her arms. The artificial womb was pressing on her lower body.

She evaluated her situation. She was in a shuttle with two non-Humans, a female and a male.

She tried to open her eyes, but it looked like her eyes had been glued shut. Finally, she managed to open them. The world in front of her was blurry, a blue smudge and one bright spot in a turquoise color. The color reminded her of an ocean world she and Trip once had visited. She tried to focus, to see more clearly, but failed.

She must have passed out. The next memory she had, was being in a dark room with a moldy smell. There was more, the same smell of perfume, a woman's presence. She picked up pungent scents, sweat and urine. There was also a more sweeter aroma, that could only mean one thing. Human blood. She inhaled through her nostrils. Not long ago, in this room, there had been a Human male.

T'Pol widened her eyes, but couldn't see anything.

A low female voice – a voice she had heard before – came out of the darkness.

"Hello, Commander T'Pol."