Miscommunication

by Ragua

Disclaimer: Paramount owns all. I'm just borrowing.

A/N: All Vulcan terminology courtesy of the Vulcan Language Institute


Many thanks to Clicks for handling the beta.

Those readers who have been around for a while—we're not old, we're mature!—may recognize one of Trip's lines as something I pirated from an old Bill Cosby standup performance.

Chapter 10

Geerkha stood with his back to the wall as far from the alien as possible. While he was most likely contaminated already, it couldn't hurt to take preventive steps.

a voice whispered.

Geerkha's ears swiveled around as he tried to identify the location of the speaker.

Hey, I won't hurt you! came the voice again.

The young Mahdini gaped at the still figure on the floor against the opposite wall. Had the alien just spoken to him? It's disturbingly pale eyes were definitely turned in his direction. It held some kind of device in its right hand.

Geerkha ordered, his voice more high-pitched than normal. Be quiet, you!

Not dangerous, the alien continued, ignoring him. Not contagious.

Then why are you so ill? Geerkha demanded angrily. How dare the alien contaminate him and then offer reassurances!

Your planet. Something here, the alien responded.

My planet is a very healthy place! huffed the Mahdini, offended that the alien seemed to be impugning his home.

For you, it retorted.

If my home is so unhealthy to you, why did you come here? Geerkha asked accusingly.

To free...ship.

The ship up there? Geerkha pointed. The one that has come to enslave my people?

The alien's eyelids, which had been drooping wearily as it spoke, popped open wide. it squawked in disbelief. It stared at Geerkha with its mouth open for a moment. What the...who...why would you think anyone's going to enslave you?!? it sputtered indignantly. The effort left it gasping, but it kept its narrowed eyes on Geerkha, apparently outraged at the charge.

The creature's shock and anger were more convincing to Geerkha than its words. Obviously enslaving the Mahdini had never crossed the alien's mind! They...the Protectors warned us that there are many aliens who try to enslave those who are less advanced, he explained defensively. Perhaps we were mistaken in our assumption that you were one of those species?

Damn right! grumbled the alien, obviously still insulted by the accusation.

There was a moment of silence between them. Why are you here then? the young Mahdini pressed, curious now.

To free the ship, the alien repeated.

Yes, I know that, Geerkha replied patiently. But why was your ship here in the first place?

Exploring. To learn about other places, other people, came the ready reply. The statement was infused with a sort of pride that whetted Geerkha's curiosity.

Why would you want to do that? he queried, intrigued at the idea.

The alien opened its eyes wide again, startled by the question. Why wouldn't you? it countered.

To that Geerkha had no response.

##########

Damn, Trip thought, closing his eyes and breathing deeply to calm his stomach. Kras wasn't kidding when he said that these Mahdini were hidebound and xenophobic!

What kind of people wouldn't want to go exploring? Wouldn't even think to do it?

Still, the kid seemed nice, and he certainly had gotten a bum deal, being stuck with the diseased alien. The engineer's humor and good-nature allowed him to momentarily overcome his physical distress. Might as well be friendly. He certainly wasn't up to much else at the moment.

My name's Trip. What's yours? he asked the kid.

The Mahdini immediately became suspicious again. Why do you want to know?

Trip blinked and unthinkingly said the first thing that came to his mind. My mom taught me to be polite.

The kid was dumbfounded by the unexpected response. Trip watched various expressions flit across the alien face.

He's kinda like a big peach, with cat's ears and black button eyes, the engineer mused.

Yours, too? Trip asked, testing a theory.

The Mahdini nodded, a slightly embarrassed look overtaking the other facial expressions. Yes, she did, he verbally acknowledged his mother's training before going on. I am called Geerkha.

Trip smiled weakly. Nice ta meetcha, Geerkha.

I am pleased to meet you, Trip, the young Mahdini responded formally.

Then, as if making a difficult decision, he moved toward the human, slowly. When he was within arm's reach of Trip, Geerkha squatted comfortably on his haunches, tipping his head to one side and flicking his ears forward.

You are a very interesting alien, Trip. Could you please tell me more about your exploring? The young Mahdini requested politely, seeming determined to demonstrate his own good manners.

The engineer felt his mouth stretch into a grin. This was going to be an interesting first contact. He wondered if he'd get any credit for it.

##########

Captain, long range sensors detect three alien vessels approaching, Kras announced calmly.

Archer, who had been dreading this moment, stopped pacing to look at the Vulcan. How long before they get here?

At their present speed, they should arrive in the Modinok system within 6 hours and 42 minutes, Kras calculated.

The captain took a moment to do some calculations of his own. We'll give the away team those 42 minutes. If we haven't heard from them by then, we'll break communications silence and contact them. Archer turned to Hoshi and continued. Lieutenant, hail the Karil. If they don't respond, continue hailing them every ten minutes. Maybe, if we can contact them, they'll have some ideas.

Archer began pacing again. Although he didn't want to consider the possibility, he began to formulate alternate plans in case contact with the away team resulted in bad news.

##########

T'Pol and Malcolm sped along the path to their final destination. They had encountered no resistance at the fourth power relay, and Malcolm expected none. Given the lax security that he had seen, not to mention the extremely unprofessional patrol, it was highly unlikely that the Mahdini had anything more up their collective sleeves. Still, one couldn't be too cautious.

The thought had no sooner entered his head when his tricorder alerted him to the presence of a large group of Mahdini moving in their direction. He signaled to T'Pol, and the two of them moved silently from the path and deeper into the woods. With any luck, they could continue on to the fifth power relay once this group had passed.

The Armory Officer soon realized the futility of his hopes. This patrol was much larger than the first. In addition, they were making organized forays into the woods off the path. Obviously they were conducting a structured search.

Trip must have been captured, Malcolm realized. He glanced at T'Pol, seeing that she had come to the same conclusion.

As they crouched on the floor, Reed's tricorder again beeped. Malcolm looked at it in disbelief. Another group of Mahdini was coming up behind them from the direction of the fourth power relay. He and T'Pol stared at each other in horror.

They were trapped.

##########

Geerkha was enthralled. He had never known anyone like the alien—the human! And yet at the same time, the human—Trip, he reminded himself—seemed as ordinary as any of the neighbors in the habitation ring where he had grown up. Trip had explored so many different worlds, but his family sounded much like Geerkha's own, right down to their strict mothers!

The Mahdini gazed wistfully at his friendly alien companion. Trip had seen and done more in his life so far than Geerkha would if he lived to be 200!

Still, Geerkha pondered doubtfully, his explorations have brought him here—to an uncertain fate.

Trip moaned, his face buried in his arms.

Not to mention making him hideously ill! Geerkha thought as he observed the human's distress.

The Mahdini sat quietly, waiting for his friend's latest bout with the illness to pass. He found himself staring at the human's pelt, reminded of a childhood trip to a zoological garden. There had been a stately zagat lying near the bars of its enclosure. The creature's glorious golden fur had looked so soft that Geerkha decided he had to touch it. Quickly and quietly, before the keeper, his mother, or even the zagat knew what he intended, Geerkha had reached through the bars to stroke the animal's fur.

His mother had boxed his ears soundly and grounded him from his toys for a week. But it had been worth it!

Geerkha gazed at Trip's fur. Was it as soft as the zagat's had been? He stretched his hand to find out.

A little damp, Geerkha thought. Not surprising, considering how much the human was perspiring. But his fur was definitely as soft as the zagat's.

The alien's startled expression at being petted was much the same as the zagat's as well. Geerkha almost laughed, but then realized that he might have committed a serious breach of etiquette by touching the human's fur uninvited!

Forgive me, Trip! he apologized hurriedly. It's just...no Mahdini have fur like yours, and I wanted to see what it felt like!

His friend looked bemused for a moment, but then gave a weak laugh. Don't worry about it, Geerkha. Seems like you've started your career in exploration already, he chuckled. Only...humans call it hair.' On animals it's fur, on humans it's hair.

Geerkha smiled at the good-natured correction, relieved that he had not offended the gentle alien.

a stentorian bellow made them both jump. What in the name of the gods are you doing so close to the alien?! It could attack you!

It was Mir-Dan, and he was livid with fury. Obviously he had been ordered back to the main building and didn't like it one bit. Geerkha knew the patrol leader would never have returned of his own volition.

The young Mahdini leaped to his feet. Mir-Dan! I...Was the search successful? Geerkha attempted to distract his superior. He realized that explaining Trip to Mir-Dan would be difficult, if not impossible.

Mir-Dan glowered for a moment, organizing his thoughts. he snapped. Two more aliens like that one! Behind him, Geerkha heard Trip draw a panicked breath. Who knows how many more are roaming the compound! Mir-Dan cried to the heavens, unaware of the affect his words had on the human.

Geerkha, however, turned. Trip? You weren't alone? he tried not to sound accusatory, but he felt slightly betrayed.

The human had the grace to look guilty. They're my friends, Trip pleaded. Just tryin' to free the ship.

Before Geerkha could respond, Mir-Dan moved forward aggressively. Are you talking to that alien? What lies has it been telling you? The patrol leader's eyes narrowed menacingly. How does it know our language?

Geerkha stepped in his superior's path, trying to protect the human from Mir-Dan's ire. He doesn't. He has a little machine, see? Geerkha pointed out the communicator in Trip's right hand. It helps him understand people on different planets. Geerkha looked over his shoulder at Trip, then back at Mir-Dan. We've been talking. He's very nice. Very friendly. His people don't—

What lies has it been telling you? Mir-Dan repeated. Do you think the Protectors don't know what its kind are capable of? Why do you think they warned us? Gave us the Shield? Told us to communicate only with them? Mir-Dan shoved Geerkha aside. It's to protect us from creatures like this one. They can't be trusted!

Mir-Dan raised his light-rifle over his head and brought it down on the communicator with all his strength. Geerkha watched in horror as the little device was crushed by the blow—as were many of the bones in Trip's hand, if the sound were anything to go by.

The human drew in an agonized breath but was unable to scream. Mir-Dan kicked the wrecked communicator across the floor, striking Trip's hand again in the process. This blow finally elicited a strangled cry of pain, followed by choking sounds, and then the human was vomiting again, all over Mir-Dan's feet.

The patrol leader leaped back in disgust and fear, stamping his feet to remove the mess before whirling on Geerkha. Get out! he roared. You obviously can't be trusted to do the job right! When his subordinate hesitated, Mir-Dan bellowed again. Get out now, Geerkha!

The young Mahdini gave the human one last look and ran from the room.

##########

However vile he felt, Trip was quite proud of his last regurgitative feat. Not only had his stomach not been as empty as he had thought, he had also managed to deposit the mess on the shoes of the bastard who had just turned his right hand into a maraca.

His actions had the added benefit of encouraging the vicious prick to keep his distance. Trip suspected that the Mahdini would enjoy giving him a few more whacks with the rifle, but he didn't want to chance getting puked on again.

Every cloud has a silver lining, Trip thought. Now if I could only get the son of a bitch near enough to plug him with my phaser!

Trip hadn't even considered using the phaser on Geerkha. The kid was just too sweet. But this guy? In a minute! And now he had the added pressure of needing to do something to help Malcolm and T'Pol.

The engineer raised his head from his forearms and looked slowly around the room, taking in the details as thoroughly as he could through his blurry eyes. This was the Mahdini central command. There had to be something here that he could mess with that would help their cause. Finally, his engineer's eye spotted what he would swear was a generator of some kind. If he could use his phaser on that, it would surely cause a power outage. It wasn't much, but it should create some confusion that might give their mission a fighting chance.

Trip eyed the Mahdini who was pacing and muttering to himself. Mir-Dan, Geerkha had called him. He doubted the man would kill him, but he might use the rifle butt again. Still, he'd have to get close to do that. Trip reached into his jumpsuit pocket with his functioning hand and palmed the phaser he had hidden there. Then he took a deep breath and began to crawl toward the generator.

It took Mir-Dan nearly a minute to realize that his prisoner had an agenda other than lying on the floor moaning. He barked angrily at Trip, gesturing wildly, but did not move from his position.

You sure don't wanna get puked on again, do you? Trip thought vindictively as he continued to crawl towards his objective. Hah!

Now Mir-Dan took several steps towards Trip, yelled, advanced a few more paces, and yelled again.

Fuck you, Charley, Trip quipped silently. Can't tell what you're sayin'. Shouldn't have busted that UT.

Finally Mir-Dan's impatience overcame his fear. He stomped across the room and grabbed the human by the ankle, intending to drag him back to his original spot. Trip yelped and rolled onto his back, raising both arms as if to shield his head from a blow. Mir-Dan's torso was less than a meter from his outstretched arms. Even with his fried brain, he couldn't miss at this distance.

Trip leveled the phaser and fired. The Mahdini toppled backward like a fallen tree.

Trip immediately rolled back onto his stomach to resume crawling, but he had to take a moment to focus on the generator, breathing deeply to dispel the nausea. Then he crawled.

And crawled. And crawled. And crawled.

It hadn't seemed this far from the other side of the room! Apparently his depth perception was as screwed up as most of his other brain functions. Trip gritted his teeth and continued the interminable journey. Finally, his outstretched hand made contact with the generator.

The engineer dropped his head, gasping in relief, but he allowed himself only a moment to regroup before moving on to find and remove the access panel. Where the fuck was it? Oh, here. After much pounding, yanking, and swearing, he finally managed to remove it. He quickly surveyed the grid, trying to identify the most vulnerable spot. As soon as he settled on a target, he primed the phaser to maximum, leveled it, and fired.

Once again, however, his depth perception proved faulty. The generator grid blew up in a shower of sparks and flames. His left hand was too close to the fireworks to avoid damage. Trip, of course, did not realize this until it was too late. All he knew was that there was a flash of light, the phaser went flying across the room, and he was screaming like a teenage girl, whacking his left arm against the floor to put out the flames.

He didn't even notice that all the lights in the complex had gone out.

##########

Sub-Commander T'Pol and Lieutenant Malcolm Reed sat on the forest floor surrounded by innumerable agitated Mahdini. Once their superior numbers had become clear, T'Pol made the decision that they would not resist. It proved to be a good move, as the Mahdini were obviously fearful and trigger-happy.

And not a one of them had the faintest idea what to do with their captives. In fact, they seemed to have no wish to come anywhere near the human and the Vulcan. Reed had holstered his phaser, T'Pol had pocketed her tricorder, and the two of them had been left alone. Though they were surrounded by Mahdini, none of their captors seemed willing to come within three meters of them.

Any ideas, Sub-Commander? Malcolm asked.

Not at the moment, T'Pol responded, surveying their captors. Their numbers are too great. Any escape attempt would most likely result in severe injuries, if not death.

Reed grimaced at the pessimistic but accurate assessment. It seems our only option is to wait and see what happens, he conceded.

T'Pol continued to scan the area. Malcolm suspected that he knew what was on her mind.

Do you think Trip's okay? he asked.

T'Pol gave him a wary look. It is useless to speculate, she stated in her most distant, Vulcan manner. Chastised, Malcolm shut up, hugging his knees and looking at the ground. After several moments of silence, however, T'Pol appeared to soften. Do you truly believe that he is intimidated by me?

The abrupt change of tone and subject nearly gave Malcolm whiplash. Where had that come from? Was this deathbed confession brand openness? And when had he become the confessor of choice for angsty Vulcans?

The Armory Officer shook his head, both at the confusing situation and at his inability to answer her question. I don't know, T'Pol, he responded truthfully.

Perhaps that is the reason he turned to Lieutenant Sato, T'Pol reflected morbidly. He finds her less...intimidating.

For some completely irrational reason that he would never be able to explain, Malcolm took exception to her assumption about Trip and Hoshi. You believe the rumors that they are having an affair?

She looked askance at his condemning tone. Do not you believe the same thing?

I do not want to believe it, he waffled. That was true enough.

T'Pol sighed. All the evidence suggests otherwise. It is the logical assumption.

Unaccountably, Malcolm found himself paraphrasing Hoshi's response to his own presuppositions. Well, Sub-Commander, you know what they say about people who assume things.

The Vulcan turned to him, raising an eyebrow. Apparently, she did not know.

Malcolm attempted to explain the play on words. They put an ass...I mean, you—no, it puts an ass in front of...I...oh, never mind.

Reed sighed and sank his head into his palm, wishing that he could wake up from this incredibly bad dream.

##########

Trip lay on his side, limp and lifeless after another bout of dry heaves. He was completely spent physically, and his brain was wandering. The pain in both hands had subsided to a dull throbbing, which didn't exactly feel good, but at least it was bearable.

But his aching head rested on the access panel, which was nice and cool.

Nice and cool.

Alien access panel, he crooned to it, you are my only friend. Thank you for being cool on my head, alien access panel.

He chanted this mantra to himself several times when a noise at the far end of the room distracted him. Trip pressed his face harder into the cool access panel, fearing that they might take it away from him. Dimly he heard whispered voices coming nearer.

No, he thought fiercely. I won't leave my access panel. You can't make me.

Now the voices were directly above him. They were talking about him. And he was shocked to realize that he understood what they were saying!

one voice said in surprise.

A human, Trip translated in wonder. From Starfleet.

He opened his eyes to find two Vulcans—a male and a female—staring down at him.

Trip stared back, amazed. His addled brain could come up with only one conclusion.

T'Luki and Sonok have come to rescue me.