CHAPTER THIRTEEN

It had been eight hours since their timely rescue, eight hours during which Hoshi had started to relax after her ordeal. She shivered as she thanked God that she hadn't ended up in sickbay like the others. She had enough aggression in her small body to want to pay Ardl a visit in the Vulcan brig and let him know exactly what she thought of him. Instead, she contented herself with bending the ears of Liz Cutler and Travis Mayweather, after she'd caught Travis in the warmest bear-hug he'd enjoyed for some time. Her eyes had shone with hero-worship and although he knew it wouldn't last, he was determined to enjoy it while it did.

 The two ensigns sat open-mouthed as they listened to her tale, shivering, too, as they counted themselves lucky to have avoided this particular away mission.

Malcolm watched from the door of the mess hall. He was amused at Travis's embarrassment, but the boy would probably get a commendation from the captain for having saved their lives, and well-deserved it was, too.

 They had travelled back to Enterprise as soon as Phlox had released them, leaving only the captain, Commander Tucker and the sub-commander still on the Vellos. Hoshi had made straight for some real food, greedily eating at some of her favourites, relishing the fact that she didn't have to fear the consequences, apart from an extra inch or two on her hips.

The armoury officer moved silently away, content that Hoshi would work off her demons with the help of her friends. As for himself, it was too soon to be able to do that. He was stiff and very sore from their exertions on Solan, but nothing that wouldn't heal with time. He'd politely declined Phlox's offer of sending for some of his more exotic cures, assuring the physician that they were needed for more worthy cases.

As for talking through his experiences, he didn't feel comfortable unburdening himself to anyone other than Commander Tucker. The charming southerner was the only person on board whom he really considered that kind of friend. And until the engineer was a bit stronger and recovering from his injuries, Malcolm's problems could wait.

So he decided to shower, get something to eat, and perhaps relax with some light reading. The captain had expressly forbidden him from going anywhere near the chancellor. He smiled grimly as he recalled how the captain had relayed the conversation with Captain Lar. The Vulcan High Command had requested permission to deal with Ardl and the Solanese, and as it had been an act of aggression aimed pointedly at the Vulcans, the captain had agreed. Ardl's fate lay with his sworn enemies.

'Poetic justice,' Malcolm thought, with uncontrolled satisfaction.

*~*~*~*~*~*

In her private quarters, T'Pol stirred fitfully in her drugged sleep, violent dreams assaulting her emotions. She saw her hands reaching for someone's throat, intending to snuff out their life, and although she could hear her name being spoken, she couldn't make out the person's features.

The Vulcan physician, Dr D'Pac, sat beside her, making note of anything she muttered, adjusting her medication from time to time. He didn't know the young Vulcan Science officer, but news of a Vulcan who voluntarily lived aboard a human vessel had filtered through. He wondered, after what she and her human crewmates had undergone, whether she would continue to live and work on Enterprise. If he'd been a gambling man, he'd have taken long odds against it.

He felt confidant that the medication he was giving her would safely reverse the toxic effects of the drug T'Pol had unwittingly ingested, but she would have to regain her composure, and live with her memories.

T'Pol stirred more violently and D'Pac started to reach for more sedation when the sub-commander's eyes shot open, dazed but rational.

"Commander!"

The doctor reached forward and gently touched his patient's shoulder, causing her to turn towards him.

"T'Pol of Vulcan, you must rest and recover your strength."

T'Pol studied the elderly Vulcan's kindly face and her immediate surroundings. "Where is this place?"

"A Vulcan vessel; don't be alarmed, we are docked with Enterprise whilst you receive treatment."

T'Pol thought silently for a few moments, thinking back to her last recollections. A look of pain flitted across her eyes.

"I would like to speak with Captain Archer, as a matter of some urgency. Would you find him for me?"

"I think that should wait until you're a little stronger."

T'Pol was agitated. "This is something which cannot wait. I need to be placed under arrest…for the murder of Commander Tucker."

D'Pac's grey eyebrow rose in surprise, not only at the words, but also at the obvious distress they had caused the speaker. He excused her actions as those of one still emotionally fragile.

"You are mistaken, my dear. Commander Tucker is presently receiving medical attention, and although injured, is very much alive."

The look of relief on her face was uncomfortable for the physician to see. "Are you certain?" T'Pol whispered.

"Yes child. When you have recovered, you can see for yourself."

"I doubt that Commander Tucker will wish to see me."

"Perhaps not. I don't claim to understand these humans, but time will tell."

"I would still like to speak with the captain if he is on board."

D'Pac assessed her condition, and satisfied that she was making good progress, he nodded and rose from his chair.

"I will see if he is still here. In the meantime, rest."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Jon had been back to Enterprise to talk to Malcolm and Hoshi whilst Trip slept. He'd tried several times to get more information on T'Pol's condition, but the Vulcans had remained tight-lipped.

"I'm fine, Captain, thank you. How are our people doing?" Malcolm had effectively diverted attention away from himself again, and if Jon knew it, he let it go. He knew his armoury officer well enough by now to know that he wouldn't admit any discomfort to his captain. He just hoped that the reserved Englishman would take time to find someone to unburden himself to.

"Trip's going to be ok, just a bit slow on his feet for a while. Phlox helped to set his fractures and he's resting, under duress."

Malcolm laughed at the mental image of his obstinate friend's face. Trip hated being in sickbay, but a Vulcan sickbay was adding insult to injury. But he remembered his friend's traumatised throat, and the person responsible for it, and the smile disappeared from his lips.

"And the sub-commander?"

Jon sighed, shaking his head. "It's just going to take time. I've spoken to their chief Medical officer, an old guy called D'Pac. He seems to think that she'll be ok, but he wouldn't commit himself to much. It's the waiting I can't stand…it's been nearly twelve hours since they transported us up. How long can it take to counteract the effects of drugs? I mean, Hoshi's much better."

"Hoshi's reaction was much less marked, Captain. We both know that. She's fine now, in fact quite embarrassed at how…verbal she got. But the sub-commander's reaction was much stronger, and will take that much longer to reverse."

Jon nodded at Malcolm's wise words. "Thanks. I guess we wait."

"We could always kill some time chatting to Chancellor Ardl," Malcolm tried.

Jon's reply was destined never to be heard as he was hailed from the bridge. He crossed to the wall and pushed the intercom button.

"Archer, go ahead."

"Captain," Travis spoke, "you're requested back on the Vellos…something about the sub-commander, I believe."

"Thanks, Travis. Tell them I'm on my way. Archer out." Turning to Malcolm, he grinned. "Maybe the waiting's over."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Now that the meeting was about to take place he was suddenly worried about how it would go. He knew T'Pol would be very uncomfortable with how things had developed on the planet, and he wasn't used to having her anything other than her normal stoic self. If she broke down in front of him, he wouldn't know how to comfort her. Squaring his shoulders as he stood outside her door, he pressed the chime.

T'Pol opened the door and stood aside to invite him in. He looked carefully at her face, relieved to see that her usual, unreadable mask was back, but there was a certain vulnerability about her that was out of place. She indicated the single chair and after she'd perched herself, back ram-rod straight, on the edge of the bed, Jon sat.

T'Pol studied the captain's bruised face, and the way he carried himself. "How are you feeling, Captain?"

"Me? I'm fine, T'Pol. More to the point how are you? I'm…um…sorry about your head."

T'Pol considered his words, realising that she did indeed have a pounding headache. Her quizzical look let him know that she didn't understand what he was referring to, and for one cowardly moment he thought of not confessing any further.

"I…um…had to hit you to knock you out. You were choking Trip, you see."

She nodded in sudden understanding. "It was a logical action, Captain. If I recall, I was fully intending to kill the commander, and all of you. This is the very reason I've asked to speak with you…I intend to return to Vulcan, as under the circumstances, I cannot continue my work on Enterprise."

TBC