Chapter Two
Touched
Commander Charles Tucker III, 'Trip' to his friends, was deep in trouble, though he would never admit it to anyone. He had to admit it to himself, however, when he had to align a plasma manifold for the third time in a row and still did it wrong.
And it was all because, though he was staring inches away from the manifold in question, what he saw before his eyes was the stunningly beautiful face of a young, golden blonde woman he had never met, never spoken to, did not know, and even didn't know if she would live. He had seen her for the first time a little over three hours ago, and simply could not stop seeing her face! Was she alive? Had she died despite Phlox's best efforts? He only knew that he had to find out - and before he traveled further out of his mind than he had already journeyed!
Calling an assistant, who would be able to do the job blindfolded, he turned the repair work over to the other man and left, explaining he was needed in the Sick Bay. As he walked the corridors toward the Sick Bay, he tried to think of how many variations of 'stupid' he could call himself for entertaining the mad hope he did. But if he was so sure he was insane, why was his heart leading about a meter in front of him?
He did not know what to expect to see when he arrived. Certainly seeing Captain Archer, Hoshi and Phlox surrounding a diagnostic table where the object of his search lay on her side, sobbing, was not highest on his list.
x
Seeing Trip enter, Archer stepped over, leaving Hoshi with the woman, certain she was better at helping in this than he was. "How was the ship?" Archer asked. He frowned, seeing that Tucker was looking past him, not paying attention. He waited a moment, and then tried again. "Trip, about our engines, I think we should switch from warp plasma to diesel."
"I think you're right, sir."
Barely able to repress a smile, Archer stepped directly in front of the Engineer. "Enterprise to Tucker." Trip started, his concentration broken - or perhaps recovered.
"Sorry, sir. Yes. The ship. I have a team over there; they report that it's in pretty bad shape. Drive is out, life support lasted just long enough for us to get out, and most of the internal systems are scrap. Someone tried damn hard to blow them out of space." Archer could sense that, though Trip was looking at him, he was actually seeing past his head.
"I get the impression that that ship is not what was blown out of space." He turned to where the young woman was calming somewhat with Hoshi's assistance. The two were holding hands, conversing softly. "She is beautiful, isn't she?"
"Yes she is."
"Come on." He turned, leading the man toward the table. He pretended he did not hear his friend trying to swallow a lump the size of an Acturan melon.
x
Stepping beside Hoshi, he waited until he had Tia's attention. "Are you all right?" He asked the woman.
"Anst –" she began before the UT picked up her words, translating them out of synch with her lips. "I am sorry, Captain." Tia answered, her English words coming a fraction of a second behind her own; the UT actually dimming the sound in favor of its own translations. "It was such a shock. I can not believe that after all we have been through it would end like this."
"You said you knew your attacker. You called them the demons of Hell. But who were they?"
"They... They..." It was clear her control was ephemeral at best. Archer decided not to push it.
"Never mind. We can go into it later. But if you're up to it, there's someone I'd like you to meet." He indicated the somewhat apprehensive officer beside him. "Tia Anlor, this is Commander Charles Tucker. He was part of the team that rescued you."
x
When she turned her golden eyes to him, Trip felt his temperature go up about 15 degrees. Worried that he would stammer, or say something stupid, he charged ahead. "It's good to see you awake...Tia. May I call you Tia?"
"Yes." She smiled, and the temperature went up another 5. "You're the one who rescued me?"
"Well, one of them." Trip answered; his voice a bit husky. Of course, only his friends would pick that up – he hoped.
Tia's smile broadened, and Archer regarded her with interest. Where had he seen that look in someone's eyes before? Oh yes, just a few moments ago, in his friend's. "Your name is Shar-les? That is a nice name."
"Thanks. I think Tia is a nice one as well."
"His friends call him 'Trip'," Hoshi offered.
"Treep?" She made a slightly sour face. "Well, I would not want to be not your friend..." she began, clearly trying to be both honest and diplomatic, never an easy task. "...but I do not think I like 'Treep' as much as 'Shar-les'."
"I agree with you." He smiled.
Hoshi, on Archer's other side, whispered so low that only he could hear. "Why do I feel that there are now only two people in this room?" Archer rubbed his lips, trying to disguise his smile.
"Commander, why don't you stay and get our guest acquainted with Enterprise? I'm needed back on the Bridge."
"Yes, sir."
"Captain? Thank you for everything."
"Don't mention it."
She looked at him in confusion. "No? Well, if you do insist, but..."
Archer held up his hand. "Wait. Commander, if you'd be so good as to explain?"
"Yes, sir."
Hoshi followed him into the corridor. Archer looked at her curiously, surprised at her having followed him. "Something tells me," she said, "that even with or without the UT, they're not going to need a translator."
"No. I think they've got the language thing pretty much covered."
xxx
When Archer reached the Bridge the derelict ship was still displayed on the viewscreen. It was now drifting in a stable attitude, thanks to the steadying effect of the shuttlepod's thrusters during the rescue mission. There was a Damage Control crew aboard, and he had been assured that there was little likelihood of the ship tearing itself apart, but now that it was steady the damage to it could be seen more clearly. "Reports?"
"The environmental controls did not last long after the rescue team evacuated," T'Pol said. "Artificial gravity is off line, as is air circulation. 12% of the ship is depressurized due to hull ruptures. An analysis of the hull reveals an unknown signature, most likely from a coherent energy discharge. Temperature is dropping throughout the ship and I have ordered the damage control team to return."
"The ship had minimal weapons," Armory Officer Reed told him. "Low yield missiles, a single coherent energy weapon. It was likely vastly overmatched."
"We've managed to link a comm channel to their database, downloading logs and sensor readings," Hoshi reported, reading from the progress summary of actions taken while she was in the Sick Bay. "The UT has just about all it needs to assure reliable translations."
"Any ideas of who they were and why they were attacked?"
She pressed a few buttons. "Their race name is not recorded, but they are referred to by others in some of the records as the Aurans. The database and all other information does not match her language. There are only a few log entries in her language. I get the sense that this ship did not belong to the crew."
"That's my impression too."
"There are plenty of indications that this ship was commandeered, and that the crew was running from someone."
Archer looked out at the derelict ship drifting off their bow, filled with corpses.
"They didn't make it."
xxx
When Tia, with Trip's assistance, came off the biobed to face them, he could see now that she stood, on bare feet, at about 5'2", her head barely clearing his chin. Her long straight golden hair; not blonde but gold; hung midway down her back, and her eyes, as she looked up to his, seemed to sparkle with more than gold.
She looked amazingly human. It was not as if she were a human 'dipped in gold'; the hues occurred naturally on her body in much the same way a human's would be varying shades of pink, colored by the suffusion of red blood.
He was well aware that appearances could well be deceiving. T'Pol looked human, but he knew there were plenty of internal differences between Humans and Vulcans. He could not discount the certainty that the same situations applied here as well. But for now, the exterior looked very human indeed.
In fact, to Trip she looked more than human. She looked stunning!
"Are you hungry? Would you like some lunch?" Trip asked, and then stopped himself. "What am I saying? I don't even know if our food is good for you?"
"Oh, I can dresna." The UT said 'learn' a fraction later. "A simple bio analysis will tell me if your food is compatible."
"Indeed," Phlox agreed, more impressed by the off-hand manner in which she proposed to conduct the test. "You are a scientist?"
"Glistni." An instant later the UT supplied 'Biologist' in her voice.
"Well, I can provide you with a biochemical analysis of most of our foods; enough to get a good idea how you will react to it." He led her over to a computer terminal, calling up the necessary data. She stared at the screen in mild discomfort.
"I cannot read this."
"No. The Universal Translator is fine for spoken language, but woefully inadequate when called upon for text. I suspect you would find its attempt at spelling your language to be quite amusing."
She smiled, but there was a heavy twinge of sadness in it. "I believe you." She sighed. "I cannot tell from this if you have what I will need."
"I will compile my data into something that will give me a clear idea of your medical needs by the time you return. In the meantime, I suggest you stick to the basics."
"What are the 'basics'?" Trip wanted to know.
"Bread and water," Phlox replied with a broad smile. "Seriously, however, for what I can tell this soon, I do not think there will be anything in our menu particularly dangerous to you. Of course, everything we have is based upon an iron-based blood system and metabolism, but I can create a supplement based on gold, much as I would prescribe an iron supplement under similar circumstances."
"Thank you, Doctor. 'Bread and water." She considered; then turned with a smile toward Trip. "Yes, Shar-les, I would love some 'lunch'."
"Well, if you'd like to dress, we'll go to the Mess Hall."
Phlox walked over to the replicator. "We've reconstituted your uniform." He told her, handing her the small bundle of her tan uniform and assorted underwear, which she put on the table beside her.
"Thank you very much, Doctor." She reached down, grabbed the hem of her blue medical smock and pullws it quickly up over her head.
x
"Whoa!" Trip exclaimed, stunned as she nonchalantly dropped the garment next to the other clothes. He stared at her, too stunned to look away.
"Is anything wrong?" the nude girl asked.
"Awah... Iyee... Awhooo!" His eyes were wide, and though his mouth worked this was the best he could do in answering her. Her skin was various mild shades of gold the way a human's would be flesh colored or pink. He particularly noticed her breasts, which were full, so firm as not to need any support, tipped with golden nipples. He looked down, past her stomach to her hips, where at her hairless mons venires he could just discern the tip of her vagina.
But as he stared, he started seeing more than just her stunning golden body. He saw the burnished gold of bruises covering her body, and the sharper stripes of many whip marks, the inflamed gold welts in various stages of healing.
"What happened to you?" he blurted before he could stop himself.
She looked down, unable to meet his eyes. "The ones who attacked us. We were trying to escape. They did this because I would not give them what they wanted."
"What did they want?" He tried to restrain himself, surprised by the flare of anger that exploded in him as he looked with outrage at the injuries to her otherwise stunningly lovely body.
"My...bodily fluids."
"Your what?"
She looked away. "Shar-les, may we discuss this later?"
x
"Commander," Phlox added his own cautioning tone. Tucker raised his hands.
"Yes, I'm sorry. It's just ... You're quite full of surprises, did you know that?"
She smiled softly, her eyes dropping from his. "I am finding that out."
"Perhaps you'll want to dress in the other room," Phlox suggested.
"Thank you, Doctor." Taking her clothes, she crossed the room. Tucker never took his eyes off her, but wasn't sure if he was looking more at her retreating, stunningly lovely body or the burnished gold of multiple bruises and the extensive markings of whips that striped her. Just before the door closed she looked back, her eyes meeting his. He was not certain what he saw there, only that it disturbed him greatly.