Author's Note: Hi everyone. It's Wednesday, right? cringes
I know it's not. But, let me tell you a funny story at it. You see, I had this friend- let's call him Phil. One day, Phil came home from tennis practice and saw that no one was on the computer. So, he jumped on it and pulled up the next chapter to the story he had been posting at He fixed it up, gave it an A/N and summary and title and whatever. Then, when he clicked on the internet icon, he found, to his horror that it didn't work!Anyway, enough about Phil's problems, let's talk
about mine. I'm sorry to all of yous who got on expecting an update and
didn't get it. But, I'm glad to see that you're so loyal that you kept
checking and found it today.
As always, I hope you like it and please R/R to tell me what you thought about the whole thing. Thanks!
Summary: As Trip fights to overcome his addition, Selak's agenda is revealed. But is it what he says?
Through Fire: For Pain and Revelations
-----Enterprise, Engineering-----
Trip's hands trembled, almost making him drop his hypospanner. Nausea washed over him in incessant waves. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, trying to focus on his work.
Work… that was he did for the past three days, it seemed. But it kept his mind occupied. Kept it from wondering back to…
The sound of the door opening hit his ears, making Trip look at the new comer. He gave a weak smile, watching the Vulcan enter and regard him curiously. Her eyes took in his haggard appearance and quickly- easily- deduced that he had not been sleeping lately. In truth, he had hardly slept at all since… well, since before he had been abducted.
"Commander, why are you working? It is late, you should be in bed," T'Pol told him, bending down to look the man in the eye. But he continued to work even through her warning, mumbling something about wanting to get it done.
"Commander, I will finish this for you. You should sleep."
"I'm fine," Trip insisted, his hands trembling violently a stronger wave of nausea hit him.
"You are shaking-"
"I'm fine!" He interjected his irrational mood swing not fazing her.
"You are not 'fine'," she replied, taking his warm hands in hers. They continued to shake, helped only by the firm hold T'Pol had. "You should be resting, Commander. Someone else can do this for you."
"I should-"
"Someone else can do this," she repeated, more firmly. His blue eyes looked up into her brown ones, his pain and fear shinning in them, touching T'Pol in a way she would never understand.
Trip's head nodded, emotionlessly. He was drained- emotionally, physically, and mentally. He just needed a break and T'Pol intended to give him one.
Walking the engineer back to his quarters, T'Pol walked in with him, escorting him to his bed. She had rarely entered him room, finding it unnecessary or inappropriate, but found herself seeing that it reflected him well. There was an organized chaos to the room; something its owner was in more ways than one.
"Could ya hand me my shorts, right there?" He asked, his voice reflecting his exhaustion. Without responded, T'Pol picked up his clothing and set them on the edge of the bed while he pulled off his boots.
She watched him for a moment, determined to stay until she was sure that he was asleep. It was in that moment, as she waited for him to dress, that she noticed his sent throughout the room. It was not something she usually missed but, perhaps, she had merely grown used to humans'- or Trip's- scent and merely ignored it.
She watched as he stood, stripping from his uniform. Looking away to afford him as much privacy as she could, his soft, tired chuckle caught her attention. "Ya don't hafta look away. It's not like ya haven't seen me nude before."
T'Pol raised an eyebrow, looking back at his half-clad body. In the few seconds she had looked away, he had already donned on his shorts, leaving his upper body still uncovered. That was nothing new to her; after months of neropressure sections it was almost becoming second nature to see his bare chest every few nights.
"Commander, have you slept at all in the past few days?" She inquired, having noticed the dark circles under his eyes.
"Not really," he admitted, sheepishly looking away from her.
"I could…"
"Neropressure sounds good," he interrupted her, as if reading her mind. Nodding sluggishly, Trip laid down on his back, getting comfortably with his pillow tucked underneath his head.
T'Pol watched him, a strange, unidentified feeling approaching the surface. After years of practice, she merely pushed it down without second thought. Approaching the bed, she warmed her hands slightly, but quickly found that it had been unnecessary.
"Commander, your temperature appears several degrees higher than normal," she told him, placing her fingers on the correct places on his burning skin.
"Tell me somethin' I don't know," he complained, a soft moan escaping his lips as he felt the pleasant effects of the neropressure. T'Pol just arced an eyebrow, continuing with her job.
It took only a few minutes before Trip had relaxed into sleep. She stayed there a few moments longer; watching the pain slip away from his features as his subconscious took hold. He seemed so much more peaceful in sleep than he had awake in the past few days.
She knew the memories of what had happened to him and the pain of his withdraw were the causes, but she didn't have a clue as to what had happened. She knew that asking the sleeping man in front of her was out of the question; he definably wouldn't want to speak about it. But, perhaps, she might be able to ask Selak what he knew…
-----Enterprise, Sickbay-----Slipping into the Infirmary without a sound, the young Vulcan walked across the metal floor. With the crew asleep, the probability of them coming near the medical ward was slim. But, as he knew, Phlox slept within those walls, as did his pet collection. Any wrong moment or noise could wake any number of them.
But his training had taught him well in the art of "breaking and entering", along with theft and escape. He was an old pro but barely put his skills to use. Now it was a matter of life and death for millions- perhaps, billions- if he didn't.
Sneaking further into the room, he walked soundlessly to the counter he had seen the cylinder earlier that day. His eyes scanned the area, but it wasn't there. Raking his brain, he recalled hearing Phlox open one of the cupboards when he had left.
On a whim, he opened the first and scanned the contents. Nothing. Moving onto the others, it wasn't until the third he opened that he found what he wanted. Carefully, the Vulcan lifted it out and away from the other items in its way.
Releasing a small sigh, he closed the door. Looking down at his prize, he gave a satisfied nod and left the room. His next step was to erase its existence from the computers, making sure that it wouldn't be remade or left on record. He doubted Phlox would agree to remake it from scratch, at least he hoped not.
-----Enterprise, Mess Hall-----"How are you feeling, today, Commander?" Selak inquired, setting down his tray- with only salad and a cup of tea on it- and seated himself across from Trip.
"Better." Selak raised an eyebrow at hearing his rested voice and noticing that the circles under his eyes weren't as pronounced as they had been before.
"That is good to hear. Were you able to sleep through the night?"
"Why is it that everyone knows I don't sleep well?" He asked, suddenly agitated. His frustration only growing as he dropped his fork on the ground during his outburst. Sighing and taking a deep breath, he muttered an apology.
Selak just sat there, watching in anticipation for his next mood swing. "Calm yourself, Commander. I merely noticed that you seemed more relaxed than our last encounter."
"Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean t' snap at you. I've just been… a little edgy, that's all," he said, trying to justify his earlier actions.
"There is no reason to explain, I am quite familiar with drug withdrawal. Sudden shifts in emotions are quite common," he told him, his voice cool but the hidden emotions in his eyes telling a different, more emotional, story that his words did not.
"Yeah… part of yer whole psychology thing?" Trip asked, eating his breakfast with a new utensil Selak had offered him. Selak merely raised an eyebrow, not verbally answering his question. Perhaps it had been a mistake to explain to Trip how he held a degree in alien psychology.
"How 'bout you? How've you been doin'?" Trip asked, concern flashing in his eyes for his fellow sufferer.
"I am unaffected by anything that happened there." Selak's eyes were downcast, starring intensely at his food but not taking a bit of it.
"Now that's bullshit," Trip told him, his voice a wealth of untamed, human emotions. "Come on, I saw the look in yer eyes when ya told me 'bout… past experiences. That was difficult for you to be there. To even tell me that stuff."
"It was easier to tell someone about my experiences than suffer simply replaying them in my mind." Trip had to agree with that logic, no matter how unVulcan it sounded.
"I guess. I'll see ya later, then."
"You are not working, are you?" The concern that had leaked into Selak's controlled voice touched the man. During their imprisonment, it was obvious some kind of bond had formed between them and it seemed to be affecting the Vulcan's emotionless façade.
"Nah. I have an appointment with the Doc." Selak nodded, feeling his emotions come back under his strict control once the wave of relief had washed over him.
"Then I shall see you at a later time." He watched Trip go, wobbly walking toward the door. Selak sighed. An old memory resurfacing, one he'd rather not remember. Closing his eyes, the details came back to him with more clarity than ever before…
Everything was a blur… images were merely mixed and double vision plagued him. Reality was warped to him; even his Vulcan mind had trouble comprehending what was happening around him. The forms of people long since dead showed themselves to him, people he knew weren't there appeared in front of him.
It just seemed so real…
Seemed so much better than what reality was…
It was so much better… he never wanted it to end…
He knew how it felt to have the promise of paradise fill you for a short time only to have it suddenly turn to hell. And then all that suddenly being ripped away and pulled back into reality.
He was already beginning to tire of his masquerade. Of the power he wielded in his hands. With ease he could change things; adjust moments as he pleased. He already had… and he still would. But that was later… and what he was doing was an exact science. Something that required patients- something he was quickly losing.
He just wanted to go home…
But more than that, he wanted to escape from what others knew as "life"…
-----Enterprise, Bridge-----"Captain!" Doctor Phlox called out as he stepped off the turbolift, relieved to find that the man he wanted was right there. "Captain, I need to talk to you," he told him in a hushed voice as he approached Archer, the Captain turning away from the Ensign who had just handed him a PADD.
"This way," he said, leading him into his Ready Room. "Yes, Doctor? What is it?"
Archer said down at his desk, looking up at the Denobulan doctor. It was easy to notice that his normally jovial manner had disappeared and was replaced by one much more anxious.
"When I was feeding my animals this morning, I noticed that the gas was missing."
"The gas? The one you made to free Trip and Selak?" This had definably caught the Captain's attention, causing his to sit up straighter in his desk.
"Yes."
"And it's missing?"
"Yes, Captain," the Doctor sighed. Hadn't he already said that? How could this man be a captain if he couldn't catch onto such easy matters?
"How could this happen? Could you have miss placed it?"
"I don't think so, Captain. I put it away after Lieutenant Valiente brought it back."
"You don't think someone could have stolen it, do you?" By then, Archer was standing, pacing in fact, as he tried to figure the matter out. How could such a dangerous gas have gone missing? Maybe he should have just let the doctor dispose of it, he could always make more if it were necessary.
"I don't see why anyone would want it, but that's the only thing I can think of."
"Very well. I'll have Malcolm run scans to try and locate it. In the mean time, would you place look over Sickbay. I'd rather find out that it had been miss placed over stolen."
"Of course, Captain. And, one more thing."
"What is it?" He said, still focused on the gas.
"After seeing this, I checked my medical logs. There's absolutely no trace of it in the system. Not of any of the away team being treated for exposure to it, not of it's creation or usage. Or even my notes on it. All of it was erased. And rather well; I can't track down any of it."
"Well, it appears someone doesn't want us to have this."
"It would seem so, sir." With that, the doctor left, having his own duties- and search- to perform. Archer just sighed, plopping himself down in his chair. Who would do this?
-----Enterprise, Selak's Quarters-----"Wait, wait, wait! I can't just leave, not now. Can't you just skip ahead a week or two and get me then?" Selak hissed at the viewscreen, anger and confusion shinning in his eyes as he argued with the man.
"No, it was hard enough getting a lock on you at this moment. You accomplished half of your mission, that will have to do," the human told him.
"Half? Have to do? What, you aren't sending me back?"
"I'm afraid we can't. I only have authorization to retrieve you. That's it," he explained, not overly apologetic.
"But… I'm not ready. I'll need at least two days to adjust the program. You can't pull me out now," Selak complained.
"We don't have the time or the lock. It has to be now."
"But… what are they going to think. They all will be put up for insanity charges when they report back to Starfleet saying that they lost the other Vulcan," Selak remarked, standing in frustration.
"That's just something we can't avoid. We're pulling you back now."
Taking a deep breath, he sat back down, looking at the balding man in the small screen. "Fine. Just give me a mi-"
-----Enterprise, Archer's Quarters, A Day and a Half Later-----"Captain's Personal Log: January 3, 2154.
"So far our search for Phlox's missing gas has turned up nothing. It's definably not in Sickbay- learned after an extensive search. Nothing has turned up, either, in our search of the ship.
"In addition to this, we discovered, after Lieutenant Selak failed to report to duty, that he is missing. After another search for him, it was discovered that he is not on board the ship. I can't help but to think that his disappearance had something to do with the missing gas from Sickbay.
"But, if he did steal it, what would he need with it? And how did he leave? All shuttles are accounted for, no one beamed off the ship, and no other ships have been in the area in the past seventy-two hours. Even the search of Selak's quarters have proven fruitless.
"This is, by far, one of the most intriguing mysteries Enterprise has seen yet. Computer, end log."
With a sigh, Archer looked down at his long time friend, lounging on his bed. "So, what do you think, Porthos?" The dog just gave a soft whine, not moving from his spot. "Yeah, that's all I got so far, too. But I'm confident we'll find him and the gas… at least I really hope we do. Otherwise the Vulcan's will have my ass."
Archer rubbed his face with his hand, running it through his hair before using it to shut down the computer. "Come on, boy. Let's get some rest, it's going to be a long day tomorrow."
-----Enterprise, T'Pol's Quarters-----T'Pol sat comfortably on her mediation mat, starring blankly into the flame. For two hours she had attempted to achieve a state of mediation to properly clear her mind, but it seemed that her mind was just too "noisy" to do so.
She found that her mind kept retreating back to Commander Tucker. Thinking about how he was doing and feeling; how he was adjusting to his withdraw. He seemed overly anxious lately, far more prone to emotional shifts. Though he was getting better, he still had lapses of motor function and emotional control. Many times T'Pol had been a witness to them.
He also seemed to be having trouble sleeping again, perhaps that was even some of the fault of his lapses. She could only imagine the nightmares he was now plagued with; thoughts and dreams of his imprisonment and forced addition. It was something she would have been more than willing to help with.
The buzzing of her door chime brought T'Pol out of her musing. She stood, curious as to who would be at her door at such a late hour.
"Commander?" She asked once she saw the occupant outside her door.
"Sorry, I didn't mean t' interrupt-"
"No, you are not. Is there something you need?"
"Um, well, I know that it's not the day for it… it's just that… well I can't sleep and-" he stuttered out, stopping only when he saw that her eyebrow had risen.
"You came for neuropressure."
"If it ain't too much of a bother." She nodded, stepping aside and allowing him in. At the sight of her meditation mat and lit candle, he asked, "Were ya meditating?"
"I had just completed my meditation for this evening," she lied, not wishing to speak about it further, though slightly disturbed at how easily such a fib came to her. Without remaining on the thought for more than a moment, she gestured for him to sit down on the pad already laid out.
"Oh," Trip said simply, kneeling down as she had said.
Trip looked over at the candle she had burning through every session. He remembered scolding her years ago when he first saw candles in her quarters- that seemed like so long ago now, a different lifetime almost.
"How have you been feeling, besides the insomnia?"
"Not bad. Can we not talk about that?"
"As you wish. Please, remove your shirt." Though T'Pol was hardly scared by Trip's agitation, she wasn't about to test his control and provoke him- she had already been on the receiving end of his frustrations many times in the past few days.
With his shirt off and politely tossed to the side, T'Pol settled herself closer, pressing her hands against his bare chest. Pressing on various pressurepoints, she could feel the practice rhythm of his breathing- the steady rise and fall, almost hypnotic as see watched.
"So," Trip sighed, trying to think of some way to break the deafening silence- at least talking about his "condition" they would say something, he just wasn't in the mood to go over such things again and again, Phlox was enough.
"How's everything goin' with the search for Selak and the gas?"
"Not well. Two days of searching have provided nothing. It would appear that whomever took the gas destroyed it," T'Pol told him, still focused on his bare chest.
Trip nodded. It seemed likely; why else would they erase all the data if they didn't want it destroyed? Not even that was going according to plan- the engineering crew couldn't find a single word in all the files deleted. Whoever was responsible, did a great job; there was quite literally nothing left.
"Yeah, but they just couldn't "destroy" Selak. He's gotta be somewhere. Do ya think it was him? Selak? Cause, I mean… he is capable of this." Trip looked at her, seeing her glance up at him as he spoke. It was evident from her face that she didn't think a Vulcan would do so- or at least that's what she wanted to believe.
"I am uncertain. It is a possibility that he took the gas, but there seems to be no logical reason for him to do so. He is Vulcan, he does not need it for anything."
Trip nodded, sighing as he did so. "Yeah. But someone did… just wonder who."
-----Enterprise, Captain's Ready Room-----The doors to Archer's ready room slide open, the Captain conversing with his two senior most officers. He turned back around, finally seeing his desk. His words trailed off; his feet stopping at the sight of Selak sitting comfortably behind his desk.
"Selak? What are you doing in here? Where have you been?" Archer paused, finally taking in the appearance of the Vulcan. His hair had grown at least an inch, his ears almost completely covered over. A few days worth of stubble had collected on his face, just adding to his gruffly, unwashed hair and haggard looking clothing.
"What the hell happened to you?"
The Vulcan almost laughed at his surprised statement, his eyes- and that of the other two- taking in his slouched posture as he comfortably settled back in the Captain's desk chair.
Standing, he seemed to almost bounce with an air of insanity, he told them, "I was… recalled for a little while. Actually, I'm not supposed to be here. But what the hell…?"
Archer listened to the Vulcan, a concerned frown growing over his features. The more he looked at the man, the more he could have sworn that he had snapped. "Are you ok?"
"You know, Captain, that in some cultures, by my appearance, they'd think I'm fine. In others- such as your own- I must appear to be quite insane. Insane, that is another interesting word, don't you agree.
"Insane is defined as being mentally unstable or out of sane mind. Yet, you would assume from the word, that you are within sanity. In sane. In sanity. Shouldn't the word truly be… exsane. Absane. Those prefixes do you come from Latin, correct? I took that class once, rather dull if you ask me but interesting none the less, only at times of course."
The three listened on to the Vulcan's rant, surprised with his odd sense of… insanity. Archer, looking over at T'Pol and Trip, silently asked for their opinions on the matter, while hoping that the Vulcan didn't notice the exchange.
"It's alright, Captain. I'm not really insane; I just enjoy acting that way. Then, again, perhaps I am. Oh, well. But it is much more fun than serious, wouldn't agree? Although, being cooped up on this ship having to pretend to be the ever stoic Vulcan might have driven me mad." Selak laughed as he plopped back down in the Captain's chair.
"Well, go ahead. You want to know what I'm talking about. Why I came back. And so on and so forth. Go ahead, fire away. Not like I give a damn about all that secrecy and crap," he told them, finally calming some.
"Ok," Archer started, not really sure that the answers he was about to hear would have any valid point to them. "Where have you been for the past two days?"
"Two days? I thought I had miscalculated more than that. Oh well, no big deal. Actually, Captain, from my perspective I've been gone for… hmm, almost four- no, five- months." Seeing the confused looks on their faces, he said, "Time travel's a bitch, isn't it?"
"Time travel? You're from Daniels' time?" Archer asked, trying to piece together what he had heard.
"Daniels? No clue who he is."
"When are you from then?" Trip asked, stealing Archer's next question.
With a grim smile, he said, "The 29th century. All that time has to show for is a bloody long war and a couple o' new ray guns." A soft laugh escaped him, the Vulcan standing to his full height. "Not a very glamorous time, Captain."
"Is that why you have come here? To change that?" T'Pol asked, albeit skeptically.
"Ah, Sub-Commander T'Pol, hardly the believer. But yes, for the most part. To change some things, make parts better."
"Parts?"
"Can't change everything, no matter how much I'd like to. Love to just send you home and tell you to never come back into space but I know that will never happen. Not like it'd help anything," Selak mussed, turning away from his audience.
"Then what, exactly, are you here to change?"
He smiled at Archer's obvious question. "I would tell you, but then it wouldn't be half as fun."
T'Pol's eyebrow raised at the taunting retort. "Should you be telling us this? It is my understanding that the more you tell us, the more chance there is in harming the timeline."
"That's the beauty of the way we use time travel. It won't. Not really."
"Not really?" Trip inquired, slipping just that much farther into the room.
A wry smile grew, a rather interesting expression on a Vulcan. "Mind control. Or "mind manipulation", as the government calls it. One of the few true benefits of the war. How sick is that?"
"I do not understand." Selak's gaze fell upon T'Pol. He could easily see how much she was trying to forget that he was Vulcan. Oh, if she only knew…
"Using mind control, I was able to… program your minds to believe that I've been with you since the beginning. Program discussions, events, and so forth into your minds. Change the computer files so that you'd truly believe that I belong here."
"You mean, everything that we remember about you, never happened?" Trip questioned.
"Not everything. As of two months ago, anything that happened was completely real and out of my control. Before that, much is manipulated," he admitted.
"What about when you leave? Will you just erase your existence?" Archer asked, his voice trying to cover some type of hidden anger.
"No, that would not be wise. I will merely make you think that anything that passed between myself and anyone else was a different, imaginary crewman. One that never really existed. The day that I leave, he supposedly died. That's how the history books will see it. You'll never remember me once I leave. I never existed," he said spitefully, showing some type of annoyance or rage. Towards what, none of the three knew.
"Mind control? I just can't believe that Starfleet would resort to using that. Create that at all," Archer said, almost daring the Vulcan to counter him.
"The Starfleet you know now and the one I joined are two very different organizations in two very different situations. While you test out space, we're in an all out war. Mind control has played a large part in everything so far. Starfleet only uses it in extreme cases. And for interrogations- it's seen as less brutal," Selak explained, his once jumpy and spasmodic personality replaced by one much more serious.
"Mind control less brutal? I doubt that Starfleet would see it that way," Archer stated, more not wanting than truly not believing the Vulcan's tale.
"Compared to some of what our enemies have been known to do, that's rather kind, Captain. Trust me, I would much rather be at the hands of Starfleet than any of them," Selak told Archer, his tone and expression serious.
"In times of war, stories like that are often fabricated purely from rumor," T'Pol explained to him, not intentionally meaning to get him off topic.
Turning to the other Vulcan, Selak smile. "True, very true. Some of the stories I've heard are slight exaggerations, but hardly all."
"How do you know that?" She countered.
For a moment, he froze. His gaze didn't falter; another smile grew, covering over his suddenly blank expression. Glancing in Trip's direction he could have sworn that the Human understood.
"That doesn't matter. I just know. But I believe you are taking this off topic. I would bet your next question, Captain, is 'what is my mission'. Correct?" Archer's head nodded, however slightly, to tell the Vulcan to answer.
"Right. Well, it started when the war hit an all time low. No one was winning, no one was losing. Just hundreds of thousands of people were dying every week. Starfleet wanted some way to end it- a quick, swift end.
"So they got together a small team of scientists, many of them specializing in the medical science. Starfleet wanted them to create the worst and deadliest bioweapon. Wanted one with no cure, no way of stopping… In our time, scientist just… don't know how to think that way. So they looked back through the centuries. They knew that, in the past few centuries, very little that wasn't already being used would help them… so they looked as far back as Dr. Phlox's medical reports."
"What could they have possibly used that Phlox created?"
"Two things: one you know of, the other you'll find soon. The first thing they looked into was a gas agent that infiltrates the body through respiration- once in the blood stream it attacks the heart, slowing it until it stops.
"The other is a genetically enhanced virus, one that was made into an air born toxin. Once it gets into the lungs, it starts to close off the air sacs, making it harder to breathe, all the while liquidating the lungs. You die from suffocating on your own blood.
"The two are deadly enough on their own, extremely fatal when combined. I already erased all data about the first, destroyed its existence practically. Now I just have to bide my time until the second part comes along."
Selak turned away, trying hard to hold himself together. Trying to push out the imagines- both real and imagined- out of his head.
"So, you were the one to steal the gas, weren't you?"
Selak turned to faced the Captain, his face scrunching up in an uncharacteristic fashion for him as he seemed to think of some way around the accusation. "I didn't steal it… per se. I more… eradicated its existence. There's a difference."
The Vulcan paused, turning away from them again. He seemed ready to go off on another rant, but before he was able, Archer cut in saying:
"I understand that it must be a horrible weapon that was created, but why destroy it? That I don't understand completely." Though, from an ethical humanitarian way, he knew why it should never be made but, from a warring government perspective, he had no idea.
"Because… it turned out to be worse than we thought. Far worse. Then our enemy got a hold of it… the war just… got a lot worse… a whole lot worse and we didn't know how else to stop it," Selak admitted.
"Then why make it in the first place."
"You don't understand, Captain. This isn't a war you're familiar with, not in the slightest. This war…" he explained, walking closer to the table. "It has no rules, no mercy. They hit us, we hit them harder. They attack, we attack them. It's just an endless cycle. One day, when Starfleet decided that they'd play god, they wanted to just wipe out our enemies, clean the slate, rather than deal with their mistakes."
The three watched the Vulcan as he flailed his arms for emphasis. They starred, almost opened mouthed, as they became more and more sucked in by the story while, at the same time, more horrified by what they heard.
Turning with Selak, they watched him walk around the table, continuing his tale of the future. "My brother was a medical doctor. He was in charge of that team. He was ordered to find some way to combine the two- to make the weapon. And he did… he found a most deadly combination of two."
"He created the worst bioweapon your era has ever seen?" T'Pol inquired, seemingly annoyed or curious by his obvious change from ritual Vulcan to an emotional one.
"Yeah, that's what they said. They… what was it?… 'Ushered in a new era for mankind. Their… creation may just bring about the end to this war'. What a load of bullshit that was. Yeah, now you can have your heart stop as you drown in your own blood- what a load of fun, we should all try it," Selak mocked, unsure why he felt so angry at T'Pol but not stopping his venting.
"We have three enemies, Captain. Only one is really a true threat to us. One was even ready to surrender to us, but we still released it on all three of them- hitting their major science colonies. It killed millions, most were innocent civilians." The news seemed to shock- and horror- his audience as the enraged Vulcan turned his back to them once more.
Just then, a curt laugh escaped his lips, the Vulcan spinning around to look back at the Captain. "And then there was my job. I was sent in; told to take whatever information I could get my hands on, whatever technology. But no…" He drawled out, walking almost like an insane man over to the Captain, paying little to no attention to those around them. "I wasn't supposed to care about the five year old dying from her slowly liquidating lungs or care about the young mother coughing up blood as she cradled her dying baby. That wasn't my job- I wasn't trained to give a damn."
Suddenly, as if realizing his unprovoked rant, he turned away, trying to force back the tears rising to the surface. Trying to push back the gruesome and vivid memories of the colony- colonies.
"They retaliated," Trip stated, something he'd almost forgotten clicking into place. Looking up at the Vulcan, his back to him, he said, "That was the rare viral out-brake you told me about. That was why yer brother killed himself. He created that… thing."
Pivoting around, the Vulcan smiled a grim smile. "I told you my life sucked." Turning back, he walked up to Archer. "Tell Travis to set a course for these coordinates."
Archer looked down at the PADD Selak handed him. "Why?"
Raising an eyebrow, he told him, "Because that's where we must be."
"You do remember we're on a mission?"
"Of course. Trust me, Captain, I could hardly forget such a thing. They have something you might find useful. Something I am sure they would be willing to give for a small price."
"What would we have to give them?"
After a moment, Selak sighed, knowing he could not stare down the Captain's question. "I'll take care of it."
"The cost, Selak."
He hesitated, only a moment. "Like I said, I'll worry about that."
"Somehow, that doesn't make me feel any better."
He smiled. "The Amocku are… a complex but arrogant race. Someone who knows them could be able to… manipulate their opinions."
"Not something very becoming of a Vulcan," T'Pol commented.
Selak's grin only grew wider. "True, but that unbecoming aspect of my personality may very well be the difference between success or failure of this mission." With that, he turned, walking out, his cool outward appearance once again in-tacked.
-----Enterprise, Engineering-----"Um, Commander, there is something I need to speak with you about." Trip looked over his shoulder to see Selak standing there, waiting politely to be addressed. He had stayed hidden for a while, avoid everyone perhaps.
"About?" Trip inquired, turning right back to his work.
"Would you like a hand?" Trip shook his head, commenting that he was fine. "Very well. Commander-"
"Just call me Trip."
"Trip?" Selak had heard the name used but still did not understand, though this was not the place nor time to ask. Sitting down next to him as he worked, Selak continued. "There's something very… very important I need to, um… discuss with you."
"What about?"
"The future, sort of. But… you can't… you can't tell anyone that I told you about it."
"Does it matter, yer just gonna wipe my mind once ya leave."
"I know, but this is different. They can't know now while it's happening nor can they know certain things later," Selak admitted, his hesitant voice catching Trip's attention.
"Just spit it out, for god's sake!"
Selak smirked, recalling a friend who often used, and made fun of, the expression. "We don't know exactly when or how or whatever that it happened- those kind of logs got lost in an accidental fire centuries ago- well, years in the future to you. Anyway, we have a rough estimate figure for the day it happened and how long-"
"Selak, you do realize that I have no idea what yer talking 'bout, right?"
"Sorry. Based on our calculations… you have… about three weeks to…"
"To what?" He urged, trying to catch Selak's eye- his project all but forgotten.
"To… to, um…" he stuttered before mumbling, "to get T'Pol pregnant."
"I'm afraid yer gonna hafta speak up," he scolded.
"To get T'Pol pregnant!"
Trip froze. Now that kind of thing in itself was weird, but T'Pol? "T'Pol?" Was the only thing that would come out of his mouth, followed later by, "Three weeks? Yer givin' me three weeks to get T'Pol, a Vulcan, pregnant?"
"Yes."
"Are you nuts?!"
"Not really."
Trip took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Okay. First off, do you know how hard it is to have a Human and a Vulcan have a kid? I mean… well, I don't really know, but that's people say."
Selak just smirked knowingly. "I do know how hard. That's why I brought this."
Before Trip had a chance to inquire what 'this' was, his arm stun, Selak having dug a needle into his arm. "Ow!"
"Commander?" The pair spun around, startled by the newest voice. Selak quickly hid the injection when he saw T'Pol standing coolly in the doorway, arching an eyebrow at the pair.
"He-hey, T'Pol."
"Sub-commander." Trip glanced at Selak, noticing how quickly his appearance went from casual to more… Vulcanish. Maybe that was just the way he was raised, to be Vulcan in Vulcan company.
Looking up at the Sub-Commander, it was easy to tell she had something to tell the Commander and him alone. That, or perhaps she was not comfortable around Selak anymore. He could understand that.
"I should be leaving, Commander, Sub-commander." With a knowing gaze, Selak arched an eyebrow, silently telling him to give it a try.
"See ya."
"What were you-"
"Nothin'. Just… ya know, guy stuff."
T'Pol's only response was the raise of an eyebrow. "I was sent here by the Captain to tell you that he will not be dinning with us tonight."
"So, just the two of us then?"
"Apparently."
"See ya at six." Trip gave her a small smile as she walked away. "Oh, god!"
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
Lol. I had to stop it there… I sort of feel sorry for Trip right about there. Sort of.
Well, that was your eleven pages of 'Through Fire' for the day. I hope you liked them. If anyone has any comments, problems, insight, so on and so forth, please R/R and tell me. If not, I'll see you in a week with another chapter. Again, I'm really sorry for posting a day later than I had promised. I won't do it again. Next time, it will (hopefully) be posted promptly on Wednesday.