xxx
Enterprise
Trip was already in the elevator when Amanda Cole walked in. She squared her shoulders, ready to salute, but he stopped her with a raised hand and a smile. She smiled in return. Old MACO habits did die hard.
They waited for the ride to end in companionable silence. Gone was the awkwardness of the early days, once she'd learned she'd made the moves on T'Pol's partner. Truth be told, she'd noticed something may be going on there, had been trying her luck, see what happened. No harm, no foul, right? Even when T'Pol had 'unwittingly' hurt her during that neuropressure session - you bet it was unwitting, she was sure the Vulcan had done it exactly on purpose, showed her what she could do to her if she wanted to -, even then she'd held the hope that somehow she'd eventually win Trip over. It was finally Hoshi who'd confronted her one day in the gym showers, let her know that she was a tad too obvious and that in any case she was barking up the wrong tree.
It'd been tough at first but she'd put her ear to the ground and checked that Hoshi was right. After the first wave of anger she'd ended up being extremely grateful to her for not letting her make a fool of herself. And she'd given T'Pol a wide berth ever since. They said Vulcans never forgot. She wasn't taking any chances. No siree, Bob.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the turbolift smoothly gliding to its destination. She watched as Trip exited, saw him turn left towards the command center. Ah, so something was going on indeed. Evans had told her that the ship was going in a different direction, nobody'd been told why yet. This was one more piece of the puzzle. Tonight, it'd be her turn to bring something new to the rumor mill. So that when the brass finally shared what was going on, they could all look at each other smugly, because they'd already figured it out.
xxx
"You got it Travis?" Inside the command room, Trip had finished catching his team up on what Starfleet wanted from them.
"No problem, Captain!" The junior refrained from pointing out it was no tougher than threading a needle.
Trip turned to Reed, pointing to a point on the 3D projection of the stellar chart. "This is where most of the attacks have taken place. They don't do it during transfer, too dangerous, but once the ships clear the final black hole pull, they find they have too much speed and have to slow down. That's when the pirates strike. Like shooting fish in a barrel."
Reed was looking at the chart, chin in one hand, his elbow resting on the other. "And that won't happen to Enterprise?" he asked.
"Of course it will," Trip shot back. "We expect the pirates will attack the convoy. Except we'll be waiting for them. Make them wish they hadn't."
"Because their ships are smaller than ours?" Reed saw it as his duty to try and poke holes in Trip's plan. Even if this was a fairly nonsensical question. Of course Enterprise would be bigger than a pirates' ship. Trip just stared silently back until Reed broke eye contact, grumbling, "We need to be ready for all eventualities." Hoshi'd understand, her.
She was standing at Trip's right, looking down at the table screen, the names of the ships attacked, of the dead. So many transports, so many dead. She thought about them, how they were just minding their business, doing their job, and now they would never go home, the unfairness of it all. She suddenly realized that Trip was talking to her, "Captain?" She asked, aware she'd missed what he said.
But he wasn't impatient, unlike Archer. "What I was asking, Ensign," Trip answered as if it were the most normal thing in the world, "is that we won't know which pirate groups we're facing. Do you have a database of the most common pirate languages?"
"The UT can handle all the most common languages among pirates, and also the least common and 78 ship-specific dialects," Hoshi proudly answered. "I think we'll be able to know what they're saying," she added.
"Good," Trip looked around at the handful of people on the room. He'd also summoned the acting science officer, Specialist Jean Lessett, and one of the rising juniors, Ensign Howard Riekke."So we rendez-vous with the transport in another couple of days, escort them down the Hydra-Zepahlis runs, handle any piracy attempt. We'll be back to pick up Captain Archer and Commander T'Pol in less than a week."
Malcolm eyed Trip narrowly, wondering why he'd even mentioned that. Picking up their missing crew members didn't compare with ensuring the safety of a very sensitive transport. Granted Trip hadn't seen T'Pol in a while but that wasn't the end of the world. The Commanders were not some rutting animals in heat. There were plenty of crew members who hadn't seen their loved ones in even longer.
Trip had dismissed the meeting. Malcolm waited until everyone was out, "What's the big deal with picking the Captain and T'Pol up promptly? It's not like they'll break if we're a little late." If he hadn't known Trip better, he'd have sworn the man was embarrassed. Trip looked at the table, then at his feet, anywhere but at Reed. "No, of course not," he finally said. He looked straight at Malcolm, "Just trying to make it easy on them."
Somehow, Malcolm wasn't too convinced.
Xxx
Archimedes
Archer wiggled on the ground, trying to relieve the pressure from being tied in one position for too long. The cell was still dark, but the rebels had left the door ajar and enough light was streaming through to allow him to see. T'Pol was in a light healing trance, the tips of her fingers twitching from time to time.
Once the rebels had left them trussed up like sausages to wait for Ayt Olbiad, she'd told Archer she was going into a light healing trance. And went to sleep just like that. No comments on what happened, no talking about what might happen. Simply a 'I am entering a light healing trance' and poof, she was gone. Archer hoped the silent treatment would end soon. He checked that she seemed all right, he still felt guilty about things. She seemed to be breathing normally, if a little bit rapidly, and she looked darker, more green. He had no knowledge of healing trances so what did he know...
A growing noise outside let him know something was happening. Perhaps in reaction to the noise, or because she had reached the end of the trance, T'Pol opened her eyes. Archer felt a rush of relief. At least he was no longer alone in this mess.
They heard voices outside, there seemed to be an argument. Several people were talking at the same time. Archer tried to recognize the voices of Big Boots or Eyebrows, or Snagtooth even, but came up blank. He shot an interrogating look at T'Pol. She was listening, head coked to the side. She looked up at him, shaking her head, "None of the ones we know."
Archer was wondering who else may be involved in the conversation when the door pushed open and a group of men stepped in, walking more slowly than he'd have expected. He soon saw they were surrounding a stout and burly alien in the middle, barrel-chested, black of hair and eye. The rebels fanned out around Archer and T'Pol, as if to block any idea of retreat, and the man stepped closer until he was a couple of feet away. Archer tried to sit on the ground with a semblance of dignity while looking up at the man, no mean feat. "Ayt Olbiad, I presume?" he asked. He saw T'Pol's raised eyebrow from the corner of his eye. Good, she got the joke.
The sturdy man stayed silend, hands on his hips, mean ridge bones projecting from his elbows. "Who are you?" he finally said.
"I am Jonathan Archer and this is T'Pol." Archer omitted the titles, they'd had no effect on the aliens anyway.
The man looked over at T'Pol, "Vulcans we're familiar with. And you are?"
"I am a Human," Archer replied, "from the planet Earth."
Ayt Olbiad turned to Big Boots, "They don't seem so scary." His voice dripped contempt.
Big Boots spluttered as he replied, "Yes, Olbiad, they seem to be a poor excuse for spies, but is there a better ruse then two hapless aliens?" Archer saw T'Pol's shoot Big Boots a dark look. Obviously she was not amused.
"What were you sent to do?" Olbiad asked Archer.
Archer tried to look like a spy who'd trick others into believing he was a bumbling fool. "Our handlers," Archer couldn't place the clan's name, "told us you were moving North soon. They wanted us to follow you, see who you were meeting. Once we get there, they'll send us the rest of our orders." That was about what Big Boots had said, more or less.
"And the Erials thought you could track the Eniledas without being found?!" the man seemed amused by the sheer nerve of it. He turned to Big Boots, "You have to take them along, see what the Erials are up to. Once these two get the rest of their orders, kill them." He turned and started for the door.
"Ayt Olbiad!" a voice rang. A hush fell. The rebels all froze. Big Boots looked at the speaker, on the verge of an apoplexy. But Olbiad simply turned around, looked at the man, "What do you ask?" His tone was not hostile.
"If we're going to take them along, they might as well help us," the man replied.
Ayt Olbiad nodded, "Of course, it shouldn't cause more work for you guys." He looked Archer and T'Pol over, "They'll make fine pack mules," he said. "Make sure to keep the Vulcan's hands tied at all times," he added, and then he was gone.
xxx
