By: Keleshnar
Disclaimer: Again, I wish.
A/N: I've decided to amuse my readers by writing along the 'guidelines' they requested (their points were quite valid). I hope everyone's happy with this : ) Also, if you haven't read the debate(s) going on in my reviews, I suggest you do. They're very amusing (I almost think that they're more popular than the story… ;P ). A gold star to anyone who identifies to which other TV show I referenced, and Faith is an irreplaceable beta. Lastly, I know this update is too late to even be mentioned *sheepish look*, so I'll give a little update on the situation: T'Pol recently befriended Hoshi, the baby has Pa'Nar Syndrome, Trip witnessed one of T'Pol's cravings, and he is trying to slowly get help for his grief. I did make the chapter the longest yet, though, so it's not all bad. Now go, read, enjoy, and review!
Chapter 8: Wisdom and Trust
"Well? Anything out there?" Jon asked rhetorically. They'd been eagerly searching for a trade planet to dock at for the past two months, but nothing had looked promising yet.
Actually, Enterprise had visited two other planets and passed by another three, but nothing seemed to have enough potential to warrant a visit. Because of the first planet they visited, Jon had learned caution.
A group of Draatic, the local species on the first planet Enterprise visited, had claimed to be traveling soldiers. They were very cordial and seemed proficient, so the group was invited on board for a tour of Enterprise and to get used to the surroundings. The Draatic had been split up into groups for touring ease. When one group didn't return communications, a security team went to go find them. Their findings were surprising, though not in retrospect - Crewman Sykes, the leader of that particular group, was dead. His group had been touring cargo hold E, and evidently the goods were very enticing, because the Draatic killed Sykes and transported off of Enterprise with all of the goods.
Enterprise pursued the pirates, and after a harrowing chase, most of the items were reclaimed from the Draatic ship. Malcolm later recited what the security team had seen on the alien ship – countless slaves, bloody bodies from fights, and a huge amount of stolen goods. Enterprise and her crew knew that they had been naïve and regretted it, but they were now wiser to the ways of the scum in the universe – and one man shorter. It was an experience no one cared to repeat.
"Actually," T'Pol replied, looking up from her scanner. "There seems to be a… trade station a parsec away bearing 022 mark 45."
The one good thing that had come from their run in with the Draatic was that Dr. Phlox had talked to some of the local physicians on the planet and they had given him information about this region of the expanse. A few of Phlox's herbal supplies had been running out, so he had gone down with the away team to try to refill them. While completing his barters, he'd chatted with the vendors and they'd ended up giving him a PADD with many interesting and useful facts. It turns out that the space stations and ships in the region were built according to the purpose they had. Trading stations were oblong, military stations were generally a cone shape, and transports were box shaped.
Jon watched as T'Pol slowly spun around at her station to her other to confirm her readings. She couldn't move incredibly fast anymore since she was six months pregnant. She had changed her style of garb again, this time to non-restricting Vulcan robes. Jon thought that she looked very regal in the flowing beige and maroon material.
T'Pol was still insisting that she be allowed to work normal duty, and Jon had been 'forced' to let her have her way, even though he wasn't sure he agreed with her. Hoshi had gotten wind of their argument, and she threatened to rally all of the female crewmembers in protest if Jon didn't comply with T'Pol's wishes. At that point, the fight was over for him. There was no way he was going to win against the third of the ship that was women.
"On screen" Jon said, leaning back in his chair to contemplate their next move. Nothing seemed out-of-the-ordinary about the station, but one couldn't really tell very much at this range. "Alert me when we're in range, Mr. Mayweather."
"Aye sir." Travis responded and set in the course. Now all they had to do was wait.
* * * * *
"Sir, we're almost in range." Travis reported.
"Good, slow to impulse." Captain Archer replied. His stomach was starting to do small flip-flops – everyone was nervous about meeting new species in the Expanse after the first tragic incident.
"Aye sir." As the space station came into view, T'Pol started scanning again. After one scan, she looked up, her brow slightly furrowed, and said,
"Captain, there is an odd…"
"I know; I see it." Jon interrupted, sitting up straight. Everyone's eyes were now on the viewscreen, looking at the apparently impossible anomaly. "Do we know…"
"How this is possible?" This time, T'Pol interrupted him. Everyone's gaze on the bridge had now turned to watch the interaction between the Captain and the Science Officer. The two were catching the tale end of each other's thoughts and verbally replying to those thoughts before they were spoken, and it was very odd and unusual to watch. At Jon's nod, she continued. "No. Presumably this is just another anomaly of the Expanse."
Hoshi and Travis exchanged a glance, and then Hoshi said, "But Sub-Commander, it's… upside down." Of course, a space station couldn't really be upside down because ships could dock from a different angle, but from their viewpoint it just had a certain look that made it feel like it was. On the center portion of the saucer shaped station there were wide windows showing trade stands with very small people walking around. This was normal enough, except for the fact that the windows were on the bottom of the station, and the people were walking upside down as far as Enterprise's bridge crew could see. What appeared to them as the top looked like the bottom of other space stations they'd come across – there were many maintenance ports and tubing running along the surface.
"Captain, there is a fluctuating curve in space 500 meters ahead. I suggest that we do not rush into anything." T'Pol stated from her station.
"I agree. Travis, .2 impulse." Travis nodded his head and slowed down again, waiting for further orders.
"Captain…" T'Pol stated, her voice rising slightly. Jon could tell something was wrong, so he immediately turned towards her and looked at her in earnest. All eyes on the bridge were staring at the ship's science officer, waiting for her to continue. "The anomaly appears to me moving towards us. We will intersect fifteen seconds."
Jon sat up stiffly in his chair, his face stern. He was ready for action and started giving out orders. "Travis, full stop! Archer to Engineering," he tapped the comm on his armrest.
"Engineering. What'cha need Captain?" Trip responded. As soon as he heard the worry in Jon's voice Trip himself started to worry.
"Trip, a spatial anomaly is moving towards us. I need you to…"
"Captain! It's speeding up! Three seconds and closing." T'Pol interrupted Jon and Trip. Jon only had time to look towards the view screen before they hit the anomaly. The ship jolted upward, as if she had hit a wave of something, and there was a split second where everything seemed to go black. It was almost as if the entire crew blinked at the same time. Jon confusedly looked at T'Pol.
"The station no longer appears to be "upside-down," as Ensign Sato stated. One can only assume that the anomaly turned us upside-down, therefore making the space station seem correctly positioned." T'Pol answered his unspoken question.
"Uh-huh. Interesting. I guess you don't need me to do anything anymore, huh Jon?" Trip commented through the comm.
"No… thanks. Archer out."
Hoshi hit some keys on her panel and reported, "No systems seemed to have been harmed, sir."
Jon nodded, turned to Travis, and said, "take us to the station and prepare to dock, Travis."
Travis nodded his head as he complied, and Enterprise drew closer to the station.
* * * * *
"Malcolm, I need you and your team to be alert at all times. We'll ask some of the vendors about whom to hire. And make sure to have a portable UT," Jon said. He, T'Pol, and Malcolm were in the situation room planning what they were going to do once they went into the station. Malcolm nodded and walked out of the room to the turbolift to get his security team ready.
Jon turned to T'Pol and took her arm to let her know he had something he wanted to discuss. "T'Pol, I don't want you on this mission and you know it. I'm only letting you come with us because I trust your judgment and we need to know how they stand on protecting an expecting mother. And, well, the human part of our baby has been getting to you a little lately…" he left the phrase hanging, knowing that she'd understand what he meant even if she didn't like it. T'Pol gave him a dry stare, all she thought that comment deserved.
John knew Vulcans valued their emotional control to an extreme, and he didn't want to offend her, especially since she was being more 'free' with her emotions and Vulcan anger was something he did not want to experience. He felt he needed to alert her to the fact that she had been showing her emotions more freely recently, however. She was pregnant, so he was very impressed to the extent to which she was still able to control her emotions. Vulcan determination and control was pretty amazing. Which was partially why she was coming on this mission.
T'Pol could tell through their link that Jon was trying very hard not to insult her in any way. She knew he enjoyed and felt honored to have her drop her mental shield and show more emotion around him, so this was only in public.
'I will try my best, Jonathan.' She sent to him. He nodded and responded verbally,
"Thank you T'Pol. I can use all of the logic you can give me right now."
They'd discussed the 'hiring mission' after the first disaster and decided T'Pol needed to be on the away team. She hadn't gone to the first planet because of the fear, mostly expressed by Jon, that she might get hurt, but everyone had eventually come to the consensus that the benefits of having T'Pol along outweighed the risks (Malcolm's swaying argument was that security would be very alert and careful of her on the missions, and that it wouldn't be any different if T'Pol was hurt on the planet or onboard except that other people would also be at risk also if she was hurt onboard). T'Pol would be able to judge the sincerity and loyalty of any prospective soldiers from an objective point of view, and it was also important to see their first reaction to a pregnant woman.
Their talk over, Jon walked T'Pol to the door. "Walk with me to the shuttle bay?" He asked.
"No, thank you. Dr. Phlox has created a serum from some plants that he thinks will help the…" T'Pol faltered and looked down. Jonathan stepped closer to her and squeezed her hand reassuringly. Their child's Pa'Nar Syndrome was distressing enough by itself, but the fact that T'Pol contracted the disease by force and their child also contracted it, neither by choice, made it even worse.
Jon hugged her close, mindful of her belly, to help comfort her. He realized that she felt guilty so he sent to her the thought 'Don't blame yourself. Neither of you are guilty of anything.'
She rested her head on his shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut, reprimanding herself mentally. 'The baby is affecting me! I need to regain control of my emotions.' Jonathan just whispered comforting nothings into her ear and slowly circled her swollen abdomen with his hand.
To regain more of her control, T'Pol took a step back and took a deep breath, concentrating on rebuilding her shields to their highest extent. Once she was done she had her old totally emotionless mask on her face. Even Jon cold barely read anything in her face. Jon touched the door control once she was done and they stepped out. He headed off toward the shuttle bay while she headed to sickbay.
* * * * *
"Seems to be safe. Nothing too out of place for a trading station." Malcolm said, being his usual thorough self and checking the area multiple times before they proceeded. The station's interior was made of a dingy brown metal material with many patches of a silver metalloid covering the roof. Their docking hatch seemed to open at a corner of two wide paths – to the right were many stalls with multitudes of unknown alien races talking and bartering, and to the left were big piles of scrap metal, many of them melted down into lumps. Some children were running around the base of one of the lumps, gleefully screaming and evidently not aware of the condition of their home. Directly in front of them was what looked like a restaurant. On the sides of the restaurant walls were many window panels, showing glimpses of the light and life inside. The rest of the station had little lighting, which made the few bright lights at the stalls throw violent shadows on the walls around them, grotesquely profiling the vendors and customers.
"Lieutenant, there is no reason to suspect anything yet. We should ask the vendors to get information. Once we have done that we can decide how cautionary we should be." T'Pol replied almost condescendingly. Malcolm looked at her, wondering how she'd suddenly changed back into the formal Vulcan that she used to be two years ago.
T'Pol marched off, albeit slowly for her bulk, toward the restaurant in front of them, her Vulcan robes swishing behind her. Jon followed her and nodded for Malcolm to do the same while the other security members stayed behind. 'That was a little much.' He concentrated and sent to her.
T'Pol sent back emotions of slight frustration and apology. 'It is hard to consciously choose between very strict and very lax.' She thought to herself.
Once she got to the entrance of the eatery, she stopped and waited for the other two to catch up, letting Jonathan take the lead and Malcolm stay beside her. Jon walked up to the bar, which was darker and gloomier than the rest of the place, sat down and signaled for the bartender while T'Pol and Malcolm sat down a few feet away.
"Hey, bartender. Do you know of any good mercenaries on this station? Loyal ones, too?" The bartender had a squatty build, and his face and arms looked like he'd been in a chemical accident – they were scarred and deformed. The man eyed Jon, seeming to size him up, and then answered a little guardedly,
"Wha'sit worth to ya'?" T'Pol raised an eyebrow in surprise at this comment, but Jon just half-laughed and replied,
"How about we put in a good word for you?" The man squinted his eyes, considered this offer, but then nodded, reluctantly accepting.
"Yah. Some 'Keepers might do wha'cha wan'."
"And where could I find these… 'Keepers?"
The man peered around the bar to see if anyone was listening and then answered quietly, "Down tha' path there. The Queethan, tha's their hang'n place. Yu'll find wha'cha need. Oh, and me's name is Rynan."
"Okay. Thanks." Archer nodded and turned away. Malcolm and T'Pol followed, Rynan watching the three of them the whole way out. They set out on the side path mentioned by the bartender and walked for a minute. The path got very dark all of the sudden, and as they slowly continued they heard loud noises from an alcove ahead, presumably The Queethan, so they stopped to work out their next move. As they were talking, four young children ran by them, panting and clutching bundles of what looked like bread. Someone could be heard angrily yelling at the distance, and at that yell all four looked back worriedly and sped onward. One of them, however, a small gray-skinned girl, stopped when she heard them mention 'Keepers and stood by a wall, catching her breath and listening further.
T'Pol noticed her presence and told the others too, so that eventually the three were looking down at the girl, who was looking back up at them defiantly. "You don't want to hire the 'Keepers." She said, sounding very confident in herself. "They're scum."
"And what would your name be? And how do we know we can trust you?" Jon said, keeping a matter-of-fact tone and leaning down so that he was at eyelevel for her.
"Pip," She replied. "And everyone knows 'Keepers are bad. They don't do anything unless they can double-cross you and gain profit."
"Who do you suggest we hire, then?" T'Pol asked her, moving forward. Pip eyed her and her belly skeptically, clutched her bread tighter to her chest, and said,
"The Sithians. They're good. And they won't try to kill you." Jon looked at T'Pol, slightly taken aback at the young girl's knowledge and indifference.
"Thank you," he said. Pip just nodded and ran off after her friends. Everyone immediately realized that they didn't know where to go, but Pip turned around and gave a pointed look to her right, making sure that they saw. Jon just gave Malcolm a look of I hope we know what we're getting into and set off.
After winding around stalls for ten minutes while trying to follow the 'path' indicated by the girl, Malcolm stopped Jon and asked T'Pol, " Are you sure she didn't lie to us? We're getting nowhere fast."
"No, Lieutenant, she did not lie to us. She approached us, remember, and she has no reason to lie to us. She also acted as if she had to try hard not to lie. I suspect she usually lies, but this time she was telling the truth," she replied. She also sent to Jonathan 'She also seemed to sympathize with my pregnancy and the child, which made her want to help.' Malcolm gave her a reproachful look, but Jon just nodded and said,
"Come on Malcolm." Jon turned back to the path and took two steps before a large alien stepped in front of his path. "Excuse me," Jon said, slightly miffed but not wanting to get on anyone's bad side. The alien only replied,
"You can't go past here." Jon looked up at his face, which was a good five inches above his own and said,
"We're here to see the Sithians. We want to make a deal." The alien had a pale face with a triangular nose that continued to his cheekbone. Where his eyebrows would have been were small maroon crests that followed the tops of his eyes and then went down to his nose. Attached to the 'eyebrows' were six half-inch tall ridges, also maroon, that went to the back of his head. He looked at Jon, trying to judge his character, and then stepped back and lead them into a small private nook behind two organic stands. The first alien left them as soon as another three came. They were all garbed in robes that barely covered their bulk and military equipment.
"What is your business?" The tallest one asked. The other two shrank back partially into the background, carefully watching the threesome.
Jon was beginning to become a little worried about their current predicament – they were surrounded by warriors in an unfamiliar trading station with Enterprise a good ways away. He stood up taller and answered, "Are you the Sithians?"
Malcolm slowly moved so that he was to the left of Jon, at a better angle for protection if it was needed, and with Jon's slight hand signal T'Pol moved back so that she was almost touching the wall. One of the other aliens reached inside his cloak, and Malcolm immediately had his eyes on him in case he was getting a weapon.
"Yes, we are."
"We've heard that your military skill is impressive, and we're considering hiring you."
"For what would you need our assistance? We are skilled, but we employ our own regulations and moral code." Jon scrunched up his brow. He wasn't sure how much information to tell them. T'Pol sent him reassurances that these people were not trying to trick him and that they were honorable in their intentions, so he replied,
"We are trying to find a hostile species that attacked our planet. This part of space if very different from our own and we could use some locals to help us, both in military situations and in navigation."
The Sithian just nodded. He started to reply, "Well we…" when his second companion quickly and inconspicuously drew out a small phaser. Malcolm noticed the movement, however, and immediately realized that he'd been watching the wrong man. As the alien put his finger on the trigger and pulled, Malcolm crouched down and dove in front of Jon. As if in slow motion, the beam of energy hit Malcolm square in the chest, and he fell motionless to the floor with a thud. Jon's face was frozen in terror as he realized what had happened – Malcolm had taken a hit that would have hit Jon near his heart, killing him immediately. The main Sithian smiled slightly and looked at Jon.
Jon's head whirled for a second, but then his thoughts pounded with rage and betrayal. He had trusted them, and they'd killed one of his friends and his chief security officer! For a second time he'd trusted the people of the universe and they'd let him down again. He vowed not to give any more second chances and to be naïve no longer. As his eyes started to narrow into slits with anger, the Sithian said,
"Yes, we will accept your offer." Jon was aghast at their insolence.
Then the alien bent down and did something to Malcolm; Jon couldn't tell what because the aliens' body was blocking his view. A second later, however, Malcolm started to move slightly. He moaned, and the Sithian reached for his hand and helped him to his feet, steadying him.
"Will you hire us?" he asked. Jon's brain was reeling from the last five seconds. T'Pol, however, grasped the situation faster. She stepped forward and replied,
"Yes. We will appreciate your help. We can pay you thirty thousand kilex. Will that be acceptable?" While on the Draatic ship, the crew had taken some containers of the region's money. Jonathan had originally felt badly about it, since it was stealing, but he got over his guilt soon afterward when he realized both how essential it could become and that the Draatic's didn't earn it respectably anyway.
"Of course." Thirty thousand was quite the respectable amount. Now Malcolm had joined Jon in both being and looking very confused.
"Wait, what happened? What did you do and why?" Jon asked, trying to gain control of the situation once again.
"That phaser was only set on light stun. We use it as a loyalty test. If someone's own officers aren't loyal to them then they are not a capable enough leader for us to serve under. You have fine security officers."
"I take pride in my people and their abilities."
"And they can sense that in you. That is partially why we are willing to serve under you. But what was quite impressive was that your… mate?" He looked at T'Pol, who nodded slightly, "even though she is with child, still tried to move to protect you. That is the kind of loyalty to which we can easily relate and respect."
"Right…" Jon replied. He intuitively felt he could trust them somehow – their species were on the same moral and ethical wavelength, even though at first glance the two were very different. "Well, would you like to come aboard our ship so we can work out the details? Oh, and I almost forgot. I'm Captain Jonathan Archer. This is Sub-Commander T'Pol, and that's Lieutenant Malcolm Reed," he said, pointing out each of them.
The Sithian nodded and replied, "I am Grand Hines."
"And I am Par-Grand Isces," the second Sithian said. The third one sauntered back into the shadows, evidently just there to help in for the first meeting.
* * * * *
"Your ship is very different from any I have seen before, Captain." Grand Hines said, looking around as the Captain escorted him and Par-Grand Isces back to the airlock. The Sithians were going to round up their Soldiers and dock with Enterprise so that the two ships could go further into the Expanse.
"Well I'm not surprised considering we're the first humans to get this far into space. T'Pol is Vulcan, though. You might have seen some Vulcan ships."
"Yes, I have. I thought she was a Vulcan. She was much more cordial than the other few I have encountered."
'I guess that's good,' Jon thought. The three of them came to the airlock and the two sithians stepped through. The Par-Grand turned and said,
"Captain, you should tell your helmsman… Ensign Mayweather?" Jon nodded, impressed that he already knew some of the crew's names. "That to break orbit from the station you must be at exactly warp 2.718. Otherwise you will just slingshot back."
"Thanks. We appreciate that." The aliens departed, and Jon turned around and walked down the corridor shaking his head and thinking, 'What a weird place.'
Cont.