CHAPTER THREE

Trip was the first to express what everyone else was thinking. "Did he just say what I thought he said?"

Jon looked around at their comfortable surroundings, seemingly part of a civilised and polite society, and yet he'd heard their host's words too. A feeling of apprehension was settling into the pit of his stomach as he recalled T'Pol's words of caution about the Solanese.

Chancellor Ardl had delivered his comment in a quietly calm manner, seemingly unaware of the emotions coursing through the minds of his listeners, and had simply got up and left them after that, encouraging them to finish their meal. Somehow, the members of the landing party had lost their appetites.

Jon cleared his throat. "I think T'Pol was right, we shouldn't have come here after all. Let's just politely make our excuses and get back to the shuttle. We'll just chalk this one up to experience."

They moved towards the door, but when they examined both it and the windows, they were disconcerted to discover that there were no handles on the insides.

"Ok, this isn't good!" Hoshi muttered nervously.

She watched the three men grimly search the room for any means of escape. Trip threw a chair at the window pane, but it refused to shatter. Malcolm fired his phase pistol, on both settings, but it had little or no effect on either the door or even what they'd assumed to be glass in the windows. Jon flipped open his communicator to raise the ship, but the sound of static filled the air.

"I don't know what's going on here, but something tells me it's going to get ugly. Malcolm, when the door opens, you and I will aim for whoever comes through. Trip, you take care of Hoshi." He was taken aback by the young woman's vehemence.

"Hoshi will take care of Hoshi, thank you. I've been taking target practice with Lieutenant Reed and my aim's much better now. As we've still got our phasers, we might as well shoot with four as two." Hoshi's young worried face was pale with fright, but the look in her eyes was pure determination.

Jon matched her determined look. "Ok, but stay close to Trip, and watch where you're pointing."

They took up strategically defensive positions around the room to cover the door and windows.

"Whaddya think they're plannin', Cap'n?"

"I wish I knew, Trip. I have a feeling it's got something to do with the games Ardl was talking about. Something tells me we could be the next Christians for the lions' den."

*~*~*~*~*~*

The away team had been gone three hours when the hail came through from the planet.

"This is Enterprise," T'Pol answered, seated in the captain's chair. Crewman Johnson at communications had already ascertained that the hail was from Chancellor Ardl.

"Ah, my dear, I need to speak to you privately…a delicate matter. Is there somewhere that you can accommodate my request?" Ardl's tone was unctuous.

T'Pol arched an elegant eyebrow and fought the urge to refuse to talk to the annoying alien, but turned to Johnson. "Patch the call through to the captain's ready room."

She rose gracefully and strode across the bridge. Once inside, she retrieved the call.

"Very well, Chancellor, your call is now receiving my undivided attention. I am Sub-Commander T'Pol, Enterprise's First Officer."

"Thank you, Sub-Commander. What I have to tell you is…difficult, but nevertheless needs to be said."

Suddenly from behind Ardl, a second figure loomed into focus. He resembled Ardl in some ways, but his Solanese features were much coarser. 'This was how the Solanese people used to be,' T'Pol thought to herself, recalling what she had read in the Vulcan archives.

Ardl was still speaking. "This…gentleman is a follower of the Brocahn, a sect which never fully evolved from our more aggressive ancestors. They have taken Captain Archer and your officers against their will and are holding them in confinement. They refuse to release them unless you come here in person."

T'Pol heard the chancellor's words, but something about the explanation didn't add up.

"You previously made it quite clear that my presence was offensive to you, and that I was not welcome on Solan. And now you say that unless I do come down, you will continue to detain the away team. For what purpose would you have me attend?"

"Gil has assured me that your people are unharmed, but as their communicators have been rendered ineffective, you're going to have to take my word on that. Please come immediately. Explanations will be given when you're here."

T'Pol felt that she was being marched into a trap, but for the time being, she'd have to play along.

"I will need some time to arrange things on board."

When Gil spoke, there was little or no refinement in his voice. "You have thirty of your minutes, Vulcan. I suggest you don't waste them."

When T'Pol emerged from the ready room, her face was composed and unflustered, revealing nothing of her inner turmoil. She crossed to the communications station.

"Hail the Captain."

Johnson made several attempts to raise the away team, but shook his head.

"Sorry, Sub-Commander, but it's no good. There seems to be an intermittent fault, or maybe some form of blocking."

"Ensign Barr, can you get a lock on their biosigns?"

The man seated at Tactical shook his head. "Sorry, Ma'am, there's too much interference. All I'm getting's a lot of random figures, nothing identifiable."

The faces of the bridge crew had grown anxious for their missing people. Travis worried especially for Hoshi, knowing how jittery she still was at meeting hostile aliens.

"Ensign Mayweather, I'm leaving you in command. I will shortly be taking the second shuttle to the planet's surface in an attempt to locate the away team. Should any of them manage to contact the ship, please inform the captain of my actions."

Travis nodded in startled amazement. He'd been at the helm when they'd first made contact with Solan, and had heard Ardl's offensive words about Vulcans. And yet, here she was, clearly defying the chancellor's request that she stayed on Enterprise. 'Just what was said in that conversation in the ready room?' he wondered.

T'Pol made her way, firstly to a weapons locker, where she removed several phase pistols, and then to sickbay to apprise Doctor Phlox of developments.

"I'm unsure as to why they want me to come down, Doctor, but this sect is clearly a throw-back to their violent past. Chancellor Ardl claims that the away team is unharmed, but I believe it is only a matter of time before they are. Please prepare a med kit for me. My rudimentary knowledge of first aid may be of some use until we can return to the ship."

"Much better if I were to accompany you, Sub-Commander. You said yourself that you don't know why they want you there, but given their past relationship with your people, it's safe to assume that their intentions aren't entirely honourable. You might end up in need of first aid, yourself."

"Your presence would only antagonise them, Doctor."

"Only if they know about it. I'll remain on the shuttle until you've made contact, and then…have a sniff around. I really do think it's for the best."

T'Pol had her reservations about that, but had to agree that having a physician close by may prove helpful.

"Very well, but they will be making contact again within the next ten minutes. I suggest you hurry with your preparations."

"Just as you say, Sub-Commander. I'll meet you at the shuttle."

By the time T'Pol had made it back to the bridge, the thirty minutes were up. She directed the next message from Solan to be again re-routed to the ready room. She watched the image of the fate of the away team unfolding before her, her lips tight with controlled anger.

"Your demonstration of force was unnecessary. I'd already agreed to come; I simply needed some time to inform the crew. Violence against our people will serve no purpose."

Gil sneered into the viewer. "I'm making the decisions around here. Just get your little pointy ears down here, or worse will happen."

TBC