AN: Thanks to Exploded Pen, Ocean, csifan 2000 and The Libran Iniquity for reviewing Chapter 3. Here's Chapter 4 (the last one) - please R&R!
Chapter 4
"SevR' qHrTha LechpaX Lknh."
Hoshi felt a cough building in her throat and swallowed. After hours and hours of practicing Muran courtesy phrases she felt like her throat was on fire, and the fact that the Vulcan Subcommander was leaning over her shoulder re-checking the UT data on her display certainly didn't help to make her feel less apprehensive. The meeting with the Muran ambassador - or rather, ambassadress - was going to start in less than three hours and Hoshi still felt she wasn't quite getting the hang of that modulation in tone that was so important when speaking the Muran main dialect.
"Lighqy wsre xhrTHa."
If you pronounced a word not loud enough, it could take on a completely different meaning, and by pronouncing it too slowly you indicated you didn't think much of your opposite's heritage, which in the Muran society was the worst of insults.
Hoshi sighed. It seemed like she was in for another linguistical tight-rope walk - only this time the worst thing that could happen wasn't just some disgruntled aliens leaving the ship before Chef had had the chance of serving them his latest version of Chicken Masala; this time there was a lot more at stake. If T'Pol and she could not convince Ambassadress Sa!Veen to let them send an away team down to the planet to get some of those succulents, they were going to be in quite a lot of trouble.
"LechpInh Ws cvhuRa." (Those glottal stops were going to kill her - how were you supposed to pronounce a word quickly and smoothly if you had to twist your tongue like that?)
Mura Prime was the only planet within a distance of more than ten light-years which harbored Ptera-ox plants, and they needed the cure soon. As soon as possible. More than three quarters of the crew were incapable of performing anything but the lightest of duties, and chaos reigned throughout the ship. The corridors were littered with empty trays and aspirin boxes, consoles left unattended were giving off shrill beeping noises only to be shut off by some overworked ensign who was balancing an over-sized jug of tea in one hand and a bed-pan in the other. And it was by no means easy to convince the patients to stay in bed and out of the way, least of all Reed, Tucker and Archer. Despite T'Pol's assurances that his presence at the meeting would do no good, and could even be interpreted as an insult, Captain Archer had insisted on participating in the negotiations. In the end T'Pol had given in, if only so he would stop arguing and lie back down again, but judging by her gloomy expression she wasn't happy with that decision at all. At least the Murans had given them no trouble when they had approached their planet, and had agreed to send some diplomates easily enough, but Hoshi knew they hadn't done so out of pure charity. The imposant turquoise-skinned alien she'd been talking to when the Murans had first answered their hails had made it quite clear the clan leaders wished to discuss "new technology" in greater detail before allowing any stranger to land on their territory. Meaning, give us at least two new resequencers and a blueprint of your shuttlepods or forget about the succulents, sista. Fortunately T'Pol had agreed to exchange the plants for technology, since the Murans had already traded with other spacefaring species and their formerly pre-warp society was contaminated already. Well, thank God for small favours.
"QUrrh ssChin LiPah."
This time Hoshi couldn't suppress a cough and put a hand to her mouth.
"Excuse me."
T'Pol cast her a sideways glance. "Are you feeling well, Ensign? Maybe you want to lie down for a while before Ambassadress Sa!Veen arrives."
Hoshi shook her head. "No, it's not the cold; it's just those irregular verbs that are giving me a throat ache."
She expected T'Pol to say something along the lines of "We are relying on your ability to pronounce those verbs correctly", but to her surprise T'Pol didn't say anything, only handed her a steaming cup of something that smelled like Vulcan herbal tea.
"Drink this. I find it helps."
As Hoshi carefully took a sip, she noticed that it was indeed some sort of Vulcan tea, and a very strong one, too. Gratefully she looked up at T'Pol.
"Thanks. Maybe you should give some to the Captain too; he seemed to have a sore throat as well as I talked to him earlier."
T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "Actually, it is quite fortunate that the Captain's ability to speak is impaired, since the Murans would interpret as a serious breach of protocol if he were say anything during the meeting."
Hoshi noticed T'Pol's dry tone and smiled a little. Jonathan Archer could be quite stubborn, and although he would never willingly do damage to a first contact, maybe it was just as well that he was going to attend that meeting with a sore throat. Keeping quietly in the background wasn't really something he was good at.
Switching off the screen, Hoshi got up. "Well, I think I know enough words to list the things we will give them in exchange for the plants, and express our heartfelt thanks, so with a little luck we should be alright."
T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "I do not believe in the concept of "luck", Ensign, but I agree. There should not be any problems."
When Ambassadress Sa!Veen and her escort arrived, Hoshi couldn't help but be impressed. They were tall, the smallest of them at least six feet, and had the same greenish-blue skin as the Muran who had answered their call. Their white hair was artfully braided and piled on top of their heads, which made them look even taller. By Earth standards they were not exactly beautiful, their faces strangely broad and elongated, but their eyes were striking, dark and almond-shaped, almost like cat's eyes. Sa!Veen was the first one to step out of the shuttle (T'Pol had sent down shuttlepod 1 to pick them up), gathering up her robes with the air of a queen at a state visit as she came up the stairs to meet Hoshi, T'Pol and Archer. Her three attendants followed, a haughty expression on their faces as they looked around the shuttle bay.
"LechpInh Ws cvhuRa." Hoshi tried to keep her voice low as she spoke the words of greeting, and apparently it had worked, since Sa!Veen's face didn't twist up in anger, but only took on a slightly surprised expression.
"You speak our language?" she asked and the UT seemed to have no trouble translating her words into English. T'Pol clasped her hands behind her back, stepping forward to indicate that she was going to be the one who did the talking.
"Greetings. We thank you for your coming. Ensign Sato has endeavoured to learn a few phrases in your language, so we will be able to gain a better understanding in the few hours of your stay."
The Ambassadress' face twitched slightly and Hoshi supposed that was how a Muran usually smiled.
"I do hope we will understand each other, Captain, but it is not necessary for you to make your throats ache by trying to speak our language. We appreciate the courtesy, but I think the translator will suffice."
Hoshi thought the Muran friendly enough, but out of the corner of her eyes she had seen Archer wince as Sa!Veen addressed T'Pol as "Captain". While she had acknowledged both T'Pol's and Hoshi's presence with the diplomatic air of someone who was used to making first contact with strange species, Sa!Veen had not even looked at Archer, acting as if he wasn't there at all. Still, as T'Pol asked the Murans to follow her to the conference room, Hoshi saw one of the attendants look him up and down in quite an unpleasant way, grinning and whispering something to her neighbour, who started grinning as well. Fortunately Archer didn't seem to have noticed. He looked quite pale, and although Liz Cutler had given him an injection that was strong enough to fight the symptoms for at least three hours, Hoshi noticed he moved slower than usual, as if he was in pain.
Although she knew it served him right - why did he always have to be that stubborn, anyway - she felt sorry for him, and as the two Muran women kept sniggering, leering at Archer from behind, Hoshi felt anger rise within her. Who the hell did they think they were to treat him like that? Sa!Veen, however, did nothing of the sort. She talked to T'Pol all the way to the briefing room, ignoring her escort as thoroughly as she had ignored Archer when she had greeted them in the shuttlebay.
Hoshi followed Archer and the attendants into the conference room and saw T'Pol motioning Sa!Veen to the chair at the head of the table. The Muran sat down gracefully, straightening her robes as she did so. When she looked up, however, she froze in mid-movement, staring at Archer who had taken place at the other end of the table. The attendants, who had been talking quietly to each other, fell silent as well, staring at him as if he'd just materialized out of thin air. Sa!Veen turned to T'Pol, her voice cold with anger as she spoke.
"What is going on here, Captain?"
T'Pol's face was as calm as ever as she answered. "This is Jonathan Archer, one of my... tactical consultants. He will be attending the conference as well."
The attendants' eyes grew wide, and Sa!Veen rose from her chair. "I see no reason for you to insult us, Captain. You were the one who asked for this meeting. Khavera..."
She gave a short wave of her hand and the attendants got up as well.
"We will not be made fun of."
T'Pol had already opened her mouth to speak when Archer got up and addressed Sa!Veen personally.
"I'm sorry, Ambassadress. No one's insulting you, it's just that our people's customs are a little different from yours. If my presence bothers you, I'll-"
"Who allowed you to speak?" T'Pol's voice cut him off sharply and Hoshi startled. For a moment, Archer stared at her wide-eyed, then something like understanding dawned on his face. As he had started talking, Sa!Veen's eyes had blazed with anger and she had been already on the way to the door when T'Pol had opened her mouth. Now she was standing there, hands on her hips, watching as Archer backed off as submissively as he could.
"I beg forgiveness," he said and Hoshi heard something like anger mixed with amusement in his voice. Sa!Veen, however, seemed satisfied. She returned to her chair (apparently not willing to give up the chance to talk about "new technology" only because some impudent male had forgotten where his place was), smiling rather nastily as she saw T'Pol give a Archer a slight shove towards one corner of the room.
"Remain there, and do not speak another word," T'Pol said, and Hoshi bit back a grin at the expression on Archer's face. She couldn't wait to tell the others about this, especially Trip. They were going to have a laughing fit.
T'Pol folded her hands in front of her on the conference table.
"Again, I want to thank you for your coming. Ensign Sato has prepared a list of goods we are willing to exchange..."
The rest of the meeting went fairly well, and in the end Sa!Veen gave T'Pol the signed permission to send an away team to Mura Prime in order to get a few of the desert succulents which were growing in every climate zone of the planet.
Not much in exchange for a resequencer, three field scanners and several expensive electric tools, Hoshi thought wryly, watching the Murans get up with rather smug expressions on their broad faces. Well, at least we'll finally be able to get rid of that virus.
They were already on their way out when one of the attendants took T'Pol's arm. Hoshi recognized her as one of the women who had checked out Archer on their way to the conference room.
"Captain, I have a question..."
T'Pol looked at her with a rather surprised expression on her face. "Yes?"
"How much do you want for him?"
The Muran jerked her chin at Archer whose eyes had grown rather big as he heard her request. T'Pol turned around and looked at him, slowly raising an eyebrow. For one moment Hoshi was sure she had seen something like amusement flicker over the Vulcan's face.
"I am sorry," T'Pol said, turning back to the attendant. "He is not for sale. But, to be honest, you would not like him very much anyway. He is not very interesting. All he ever does is complain. And..."
She looked back at Archer and Hoshi was surprised to see a small smile on her lips as she continued.
"... he has got no sense of humour at all."
A few days after the away team - T'Pol, Hoshi and Liz Cutler - had returned from the planet, bringing something with them that looked like a warty yellow cucumber and contained enough Ptera-ox to cure half the quadrant, things began to slowly return to what passed as normal aboard Enterprise.
Synthesizing the cure had actually proved quite simple, and when they had been almost done, Phlox had woken up from hibernation and had helped them adding a few more ingredients to their concoction which helped getting rid of the vile taste. The Denobulan doctor had been mortified when he'd heard that half the crew had fallen ill while he'd been asleep, but admitted at the same time that waking him up would probably have done no good. When he saw the cure worked just fine, he stopped pacing to and fro in his sick bay, muttering dark self-accusations and congratulated T'Pol and Hoshi on their good work.
He was by no means the only one. When injected directly into the bloodstream, the cure took immediate effect, and soon the doors of the crew's quarters opened one by one, pale figures with dark circles under their eyes came staggering out and slowly crept back to their stations. There was a lot of work to be done, cleaning up the mess in the corridors, re-checking systems which had been rendered faulty by neglection and of course taking care of the patients who were still recuperating from the virus.
The day the last of the senior officers returned to full duties Archer invited the bridge crew for dinner in the Captain's mess to celebrate the end of their plight.
Although everybody including Phlox and Ensign Mayweather followed the invitation, dinner was quite a subdued affair. Hoshi wasn't surprised - especially Trip and Malcolm still looked quite ragged around the edges, their faces drawn and pale, and their noses still clogged up, which made their voices sound quite funny. Their appetite, however, seemed to have returned. Trip polished off three plates of meatloaf and mashed potatoes, providing the "background noise" T'Pol had claimed she missed so much when he wasn't present at the dinner table, and still found room for three large pieces of pecan pie. In fact, he ate so much Malcolm asked him after the second piece of pie if he had somehow managed to get pregnant again.
Hoshi herself found that she wasn't quite as hungry; last week had taken its toll on her and she made a mental note to turn in early this evening. As she looked around the table at her collegues she thought that most of them seemed ready to hit the sack, with the exception of Dr.Phlox who looked as alert as ever, lecturing Ensign Mayweather on how an osmotic eel could heal even critically infected wounds. Travis, who hadn't finished with his spareribs yet, tried in vain to steer the conversation back to less medical topics.
He was rescued by Captain Archer who returned from his quarters, carrying a big bottle wrapped in green tissue paper. With the air of a magician producing a rabbit out of his hat he put it down on the table and went to fetch a tray with champagne glasses which had been standing on a table in a corner of the room.
Ripping off the wrapping paper he presented the bottle to his officers.
"Andorian Sparkle, vintage 2103," he said proudly. "I've been keeping it for some special occasion."
He filled the glasses and gave one to each of his officers. T'Pol accepted hers without a moment's hesitation - obviously the general rule "Vulcans do not drink" could be bend at certain occasions. Archer raised his glass and smiled.
"To the ladies," he said, raising his eyebrows at T'Pol who answered the gesture with a slight twitch of her own. "To Subcommander T'Pol and Ensign Hoshi Sato, who certainly pulled our tails out of the fire this time!"
Everybody raised their glasses at them, and Hoshi felt her cheeks grow pleasantly warm. She caught Malcolm's eye and saw the tiniest trace of a smile on his lips. She knew he hadn't forgotten about the Pineapple Incident yet, and was already planning his revenge. To her surprise she found herself looking forward to whatever he had in mind. This could turn out to be quite a lot of fun.
Clinking their glasses together, the men echoed Archer's toast "To the ladies" and downed their drinks with one swig, again with the exception of Phlox who nipped carefully at his and raised his eyebrows. "Interesting."
Smiling at him, Hoshi took a sip of her drink and felt the cool liquid tickle her tongue. Archer put his glass down on the table, looking at T'Pol who raised an eyebrow at him.
"I trust you are feeling better, Captain?" she asked, amusement tinging her voice. Hoshi had noticed a certain... change of atmosphere between the Captain and his first officer ever since the incident with the Muran attendant and she could have sworn there was something strange going on here. Archer leaned back in his chair.
"I'm feeling just fine," he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I have to admit, you really got me this time, T'Pol."
She put down her glass, resolutely not smiling. "Well, as Mr.Tucker would put it: Now we are even."
Hoshi noticed Malcolm, Trip and Travis simultaneously raising their eyebrows at her and shrugged. Let them figure out this one on their own. Meanwhile Archer had pulled a padd out of his pocket and cleared his throat.
"Well," he said, "I'm glad everybody was able to come here tonight. It will please you to hear that I was finally able to finish that introduction..."
Ignoring the gloomy looks that were exchanged all around the table he continued.
"... and maybe it will surprise you to hear that I decided not to write about my father's life and work this time. Due to recent events I changed the topic of my essay to something I found to be more appropriate this time."
"Bet it's something like "The Importance of Not Giving Any Cheese to Your Beagle"," Trip muttered sarcastically. Malcolm sniggered, but Archer went on undeterred, ignoring both of them.
"If you don't mind, I would like to read part of it aloud and have you give me your opinions later."
Hoshi wondered if there was any way to escape him and looking at her collegues she knew they were all asking themselves the same question.
"'A Job for the Ladies - the Role of Women in Modern Space Travel'
While the leading positions in space travel as well as in seafaring have traditionally been occupied by men, reactionary minds recently have to face the fact that more and more young women are applying for the Starfleet Academy, a place where..."
Archer hadn't even reached the end of his first sentence when Hoshi already felt her brain shut down. She was so tired, and the Captain's essays tended to have a similar effect on her as a glass of warm milk shortly before getting ready to bed. As Archer droned on, she felt her eyelids drooping and had to pinch herself under the table to keep herself from falling asleep right then and there. Judging from the zoned-out expressions on the faces of her collegues she suspected that everyone except T'Pol was feeling the same way. The Vulcan Subcommander, of course, was listening as attentively as she always did. What was going on behind that mask of Vulcan politeness, however, was a different question.
"... and so, in a society where we have finally achieved an equal treatment of men and women, there are still voices which...."
Hoshi saw Malcolm leaning over to Trip.
"It's strange, isn't it?" he whispered.
The engineer frowned. "What are you talkin' about?"
"Well, think about it. First we catch a virus, the only one ever to survive decontamination, at the only time of the year when Dr. Phlox is asleep. Then we find out the only cure grows on a planet inhabited by some kind of amazons who steal half the technology aboard before they allow us to take one of those bloody plants. And now we even have to listen to one of the Captain's introductions. It almost sounds like someone planned this, doesn't it?"
Trip rolled his eyes. "Aww, Malcolm. Sometimes it's just life throwin' you a lemon, and not a conspiracy of some kind."
Hoshi saw the Armoury Officer giving Trip a thoughtful look, then leaning back in his chair without another word. But a moment before she went back to letting herself drift, trying not to fall asleep, she could have sworn she had heard him mutter:
"Yeah, and sometimes it's not."
"Well, that was certainly worth it, wasn't it, cousin?"
"Sure was."
"You don't sound quite happy, Krem. What's wrong? Don't you like the feeling of justice being redeemed?"
"Of course I do. I'm... well, it's stupid, but I feel kind of guilty. They were quite nice to me that time."
"Nice! They lured us into that make-believe safe of theirs and *shot* us! And you're saying they were nice! No-o, we had a score to settle with them and we did! We had every right to do as we did, and now we can finally go back to being honourable businessmen again."
"Maybe you're right, cousin."
"Of course I am. You still have a lot to learn, Krem."
"Yes, cousin."
"Now let's get back to business. Remember that Vulcan cruiser I told you about? Well, as you surely have guessed I already have a plan..."
The End