Chapter 7 Hostages
"Prime minister, our Captain is currently indisposed, may I be of assistance?" T'Pol asked diplomatically, refusing to be baited.
"The only assistance you may give is to return our missing person. We have reason to believe she returned with your shuttle." Veen demanded.
Before T'Pol could reply, one of Veen's crew approached him from behind, whispering information in his ear. The Taltaxins were similar to humans, with slight differences in the shape of their outer extremities. Their limbs were longer, eyes narrower, ears thinner. Their bodies were awkward versions of Homo Sapiens.
Veen looked at T'Pol, his eyes snapping, "You know where our missing person is, Sub-Commander. You are playing a dangerous game."
"I am playing no game, Prime Minister. Your accusation would be better aimed at your own people." T'Pol replied, maintaining calm, as the peace before the storm. "You abducted our away team when they came in good faith to your planet. You put them through hours of interrogations. They barely escaped without harm, yet you accuse me of playing games?"
Hoshi and Travis mentally applauded the Sub-Commander's words. T'Pol wasn't finished.
"If you attempt to fire upon Enterprise or the vessel we are currently protecting, we will return fire. I suggest you review those scans your ship took earlier. Your weapons are no match for Enterprise."
Veen's anger evaporated as the truth of her statement impacted his senses, "Sub-Commander, perhaps I was...hasty...in my accusations."
"Perhaps." She replied coldly.
"As Prime Minister I represent the affairs of Taltax, we have laws...please... the person you protect is a sentenced criminal on our planet. She must be returned." He pleaded.
My what a tangled web we weave, thought T'Pol, "This situation is not of our making. I do not have enough information to make a decision on who should be supported. Would you be willing to explain the crimes this person committed?"
Veen appeared flustered by her request, "Certainly, you may come to our vessel and we'll discuss the matter." He offered.
Travis figured Veen must think T'Pol incredibly naïve. He's in for a surprise, he thought, T'Pol is one tough lady.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible Prime Minister. I'll contact you. T'Pol out." She gestured at Hoshi to shut the channel. "Mr. Mayweather, you have the bridge." She headed for sickbay...and hopefully answers.
The drum beat a rhythm mercilessly in his head. He lay there, eyes closed, unconsciously moaning in tune with the percussion.
"Commander?" Reed crawled from his pallet towards Tucker.
Trip fought to open his eyes, an act of simple muscle control. Simple wasn't on the menu today. Gradually, his lids cracked open. A blurry Malcolm coalesced above him.
"Malcolm?" Tucker's voice scratched from disuse and the anesthesia effect of the gas.
"I was beginning to think I would have to start talking to myself for company." Malcolm's face belied the levity of his words. Reed had been worried.
Malcolm had little recollection of what had happened to them. He had checked his friends, finding them unconscious but otherwise okay. He had proceeded to examine their surroundings, theorizing they were aboard another spaceship. There was a certain background noise that one becomes accustomed to on a ship, a humming of the engines that sent micro- vibrations through the decking.
The room they had been placed in could pass for a storage closet on Enterprise. Room enough for their blankets and little extra for legroom. Sparse accommodations indeed, Reed thought irritably.
Trip cleared his throat, "The Captain?"
Malcolm shrugged in the direction of the opposite wall, "Over there, still out."
"It wasn't your fault Malcolm." Trip spoke softly.
The words fell like lead in a vat of water. Reed stared at the bulkhead behind Trip's head, refusing to make eye contact.
"I wish I could believe that."
"Believe it. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. We'll get out of here." Trip began to push his body upwards, levering trembling arms against the floor.
Malcolm reached forward, steadying Tucker.
"Speaking of which..." Tucker began to take note of his surroundings, "Where is here?"
"A ship, some room in the ship...beyond that, I don't know." Reed answered.
Trip saw Archer lying across the room. He began to crawl towards his friend, a short distance but for the weakness permeating his body. He collapsed against the gray metal wall beside Archer's head, noticing the steady rising of his chest.
"Why's he still out?" Trip asked.
"Probably taking him longer to recover from whatever it was we were gassed with. It was foul stuff." Reed grimaced remembering how he had felt when he had woken.
Tucker agreed. Every moment that passed he felt stronger but that initial waking had been gruesome.
"Maybe it's because he's oldest?" Trip wondered.
"I'm not...old." A weak voice interrupted their conversation.
Reed rushed over to kneel beside Trip, both looked down at Archer. His eyes remained shut.
"Sir?" Tucker asked expectantly.
"Give me a minute. I feel like I've been on a two-day drinking binge." Archer brought a hand up to his eyes, covering them from the light.
"It'll pass Cap'n." Trip assured his friend.
Archer contemplated letting darkness take him back to its sweet lair, but disregarded the luxury. He was still in the mental regrouping process, but he recognized the unsettled feeling that came from being in danger. Something had happened...in his mess, eating and discussing ship's business with his officers...a hissing sound. Then nothingness.
"Where are we?" He asked. He opened his eyes. Trip and Reed were staring down at him. If he'd had the energy, it would've scared him. Instead he waved them away, and attempted to right himself into a sitting position. Attempted was an apt description because he found himself slipping to the other side.
Firm hands grasped each arm and eased him against the bulkhead.
"Easy Cap'n." Trip cautioned.
Once Archer seemed stable, Reed briefed him on what he knew. The three were now sitting together, lined up against the bulkhead, arms across knees, looking no better than yesterday's laundry.
"The lock?" Archer asked, talking into his knees. He was scrutinizing the metal deck with careful detail.
Reed shook his head then spoke realizing the Captain wasn't watching him, "No good Sir. Not even a panel to jimmy on this side."
"So we're stuck here?" Tucker said, disgusted, flicking a piece of lint off his uniform.
"For now, Commander. For now." Reed replied, contemplating the door.
"Have you identified the substance, Doctor?" T'Pol asked Phlox. She had left the bridge and went to sickbay in search of answers. After arriving, she began to wish she had settled for a call to the Doctor. The normally empty sickbay was teaming with ill crewmen. The odors were...overwhelming.
Phlox sensed T'Pol's distress, and gestured her to follow him into the hallway.
"I have Sub-Commander, it's Dioxin, a common agent that can be found on many planets. It's known for its ability to suppress vital signs. Typically used by smugglers in slave ships."
T'Pol's lip curled with distaste, "Slave ships. They administer it to the victims and fool sensor scans when confronted."
"Quite so. Disturbing what some species do to others."
"Doctor, what effect would this have on humans?"
Phlox was relieved to be the bearer of good news for a change, "Nothing unusual Sub-Commander. They'll wake up feeling no worse than a hangover. Uncomfortable, but not life-threatening."
T'Pol nodded, "Is Crewman Hodge under your care?"
"Yes, he came in a few minutes ago. May I ask why?" Phlox asked.
"I must speak with him. He was leading the investigation into the Captain's and the other's disappearance."
"I see. You can have five minutes, no more. He pushed himself to far, I'm afraid, and is quite ill now." Phlox warned.
"Will he be okay?" T'Pol felt a growing...affection...for her crew, something that unsettled her of late.
"Oh yes." He assured, "With time...and rest." His subtle message wasn't lost on T'Pol, five minutes and not a second longer. It made her recall a description Captain Archer had said to her weeks ago. He had referred to Doctor Phlox as a Mother Hen. She had been confused with the term, but upon his explanation felt it was an apt depiction of the ships Doctor.
"I understand."
"We'll get them back." Phlox said suddenly.
T'Pol met Phlox's gaze. The unspoken emotions flowed around her. Fear for her fellow officers and friends. A friendship she had begun to acknowledge. She wasn't prepared to deal with the loss. She tipped her head slightly, the only show of appreciation for the comfort Phlox offered. She turned, and stepped into sickbay, Phlox following. The door shut behind them with an inevitability of the understood fears.
"You lose!" Tucker shouted, his lips quirking with delight. "That's five in a row Cap'n."
"I think your cheating Trip, no one has that kind of luck." Archer joked.
"Rock, paper and scissors is hardly a strategic game Captain. Your just abysmal at it." Lieutenant Reed said.
Archer and Tucker gaped at Reed. He stared back nonplussed.
"It's okay to be bad at a game." Malcolm replied.
He maintained the stare for seconds but before time could tick into a minute his mouth twitched. A choked snort escaped. The three men broke out in combined laughter.
Archer thumped Tucker on the shoulder, "I still think you cheated."
Reed squirmed imperceptibly, "Captain...do you think there's some way to contact whomever has us caged in here?"
"We tried Malcolm, I just got my voice back, remember?" Archer reminded his armory officer.
"Yes, I know Sir...but I've got a bit of a problem." Reed appeared uncomfortable.
Trip and Archer looked at each other, trying to figure out what Malcolm was hinting at. They both knew Malcolm could be a bit of a stodgy Brit.
"Oh!" Archer's face registered understanding.
Trip looked at Reed, then Archer, "What?"
"The privy, Trip...Malcolm needs to use the privy." Archer mumbled. Reed's face colored.
"Ah." Trip acknowledged.
"If you press the floor panel towards the left rear of the compartment Captain Archer, a door will open to reveal facilities. I believe these will be adequate." A voice echoed through the room.
The men twisted to find the source. The room remained shut, which meant the voice came from outside. The implication that they were under surveillance sobered the trio.
"You've heard us all along, haven't you?" Archer demanded.
"Quite so, quite so. Who knew humans could be so loud?" The voice spoke amused.
Archer was far from amused, as was Trip and Malcolm.
"What the hell are you playing at? We've been waiting for hours for someone to talk to us, and you've been there the entire time!" Trip hollered at the wall bearing the door.
"Come Commander Tucker, there's no need to be angry. We owe you a great debt." The voice said.
"This is how you repay your debts?" Archer snapped.
"I'm sorry Captain, but it is a small ship, and it would seem you are carrying a nasty virus within. There are few rooms aboard ship that can maintain isolation." The voice sounded apologetic.
Archer wasn't falling for it, "Then why no contact? Who are you? Why have you brought us here? Where is our ship?" He fired off questions that had been burning for answers.
"You are insurance Captain. You and your officers are the only thing keeping our ship from being blown into a small debris field. As such, I think you can understand the importance of having you here. As for who we are, we are those that helped you escape on Taltax...we belong to the conspirators."
Reed digested the information, "How did you get us off our ship?"
"The Future, Lieutenant, your stowaway...our Future. She is what will be. She must be protected.
"You could've asked." Trip grumbled.
"And what would you have done? Called a meeting? Offered assistance perhaps? When you were in no place to offer anything. It was our people that saved you, Commander Tucker. We helped you escape our world. You owe us." The voice had become angry.
"We owe you nothing. You drugged and kidnapped us. Whatever help you hoped to receive, we won't give it willingly." Archer informed him tersely.
"I'm afraid it's out of your hands Captain, and fortunately for you, your Sub-Commander felt differently. She has all ready complied with our request."
Archer's mouth snarled with an angry retort, he bit it back and clenched his fingers into tight fists. "We've only your word for what has happened. Forgive me if we fail to believe you."
"It isn't necessary for you to believe Captain. You'll find the facilities in the rear, as I've stated. A meal will be delivered shortly. The Future has expressed a desire to discuss...events with you. Expect her after your meal is completed." The voice finished with finality.