CHAPTER THREE
Trip screwed his eyes shut as soon as he'd opened them, the harshness of the light painful. For whatever reason, someone was shining a bright light directly into his face. The light cast dark shadows, making it impossible for him to see anyone behind it.
He shook his head to try to clear the muzziness in it, wondering why his head should be muzzy, and why he was sitting in a strange room, bound hand and foot? He wasn't gagged, so he decided to exercise his lungs.
"Hey, lemme outta here! Hello? Need some help, here!"
His only reply was silence. He thought back to the last thing he could remember, vaguely recalling a fight that he and Malcolm had stopped to watch. 'Malcolm! Was he ok, was he maybe tied up like him, maybe even next door?'
"Hey, Malcolm! Can ya hear me?"
Getting no response, his thoughts went back to the fight. Malcolm had urged him to walk away, against his better judgement, and he had been, only to feel something sharp and painful connect with the back of his neck. After that, all he knew was waking up to that blasted light.
He struggled against his bonds, but realised fairly quickly that he wasn't going anywhere, soon. Whoever, or whatever had tied him up had secured his legs not together, but to the front legs of the hard seat he was sitting on. His toes cramped a bit as he realised the bonds were very tight. His hands were secured behind his back, and when he flexed his fingers, he felt them tingle, too.
'Great, Tucker, here ya are, once again singled out for whatever nefarious reason, and now you're gonna lose your extremities into the bargain!'
"Hey, c'mon, lemme outta here," he yelled, again and again, his only companion the silence which seemed to mock him.
^*^*^*^*^*^
John and Malcolm had begun a systematic search of the area round them. They'd decided against splitting up, and this slowed their search, but that couldn't be helped. They'd had no contact from T'Pol, confirming that interference was affecting their communicators, and already they'd been searching for one hour. John was worried for his friend, anxious to know who had taken him, and why.
He looked at the faces of the people passing by. Most were totally alien, but a few were humanoid. Perhaps Trip had been mistaken for someone else. Somewhat belatedly, he thought of seeking out some form of authority on the station and reporting the situation. By using the UT he obtained directions from one of the humanoids for the location of the station's Constable.
They were loath to leave the original site, but John realised that they weren't going to find Trip without help. They took the turbo-lift to the next level and found themselves outside a grey door.
John's heart sank when he looked at the man who opened the door to their knock; he was a Tandoran! They were invited into the office, and the two men entered with some trepidation.
"Ah, the famous Captain Archer of the earth vessel Enterprise. You're making quite a reputation out here. Colonel Grat wishes to be remembered, and looks forward to the day he might meet you again."
John felt alarm at the mention of the man he'd made an enemy of some months ago. This could be very awkward, indeed. The Tandaran watched the human's expression.
"Relax, Captain, I don't actually share Colonel Grat's views on the Suliban. Not all Sulibans are in the Cabal, and not all Tandorans are like the colonel. Now, to your present problem…about one hour ago we received an anonymous message to this office, addressed to a Star ship captain. Until you came through my door with the tale of your missing engineer, I was at a loss as to whom it was for. We have so many ships calling at our station that it's virtually impossible to keep track of everyone here."
He handed over a message padd and John keyed the information with trepidation. It would have to be about Trip; no one else knew Enterprise was calling at the station.
The writing on the padd was in an alien language, which Constable Fee was able to translate. It was informative to a certain degree, but left as many questions unanswered.
'"I have information regarding your crewman. Meet me on level 4 east, subsection 2 as soon as possible. Do not involve the constable any further if you wish to retrieve your missing person."' The message was unsigned.
"I know you'll be keeping this appointment, Captain, and I can't blame you for that, but I'll provide a discreet back-up from a distance. This is my turf, and I don't like anyone abusing my authority!" Fee seemed genuinely annoyed, and John was only too happy to accept his offered assistance.
^*^*^*^*^*^
The aliens on the station seemed to hold Constable Fee in high regard as they parted to let him through. Many called out a greeting, which the man acknowledged in a friendly manner. He explained that it made his job easier to keep the natives on his side. John and Malcolm followed like a flotilla, taking in the expressions of the aliens around them. Perhaps some of them knew Trip's whereabouts, and maybe even some of them had had a hand in his disappearance!
It didn't take long to reach the rendezvous point and John looked round, anxious to make contact. Fee arranged to see what he could find out from some of his contacts, and moved away far enough to be out of the picture, but still keep an eye on developments.
John felt a tug on his sleeve and looked down into the innocent face of a young girl. She handed him a padd and he was surprised that it was in English.
"'We have learned your language. Follow this child, and come alone if you want your crewman back.'"
John looked at the small figure moving away through the crowd, and he just had time to yell at Malcolm.
"Stay with the Constable, Lieutenant. I've made contact and hopefully will be back soon."
With that, he was gone, swallowed instantly by the throng of bodies on the promenade, before Malcolm had a chance to object.
TBC
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Sorry that this chapter was so 'wordy', but sometimes you need scene-fillers.