Just a little kiss

Estellio

Rating: Pg-13 (Or K whatever, this new system sucks!)

Warnings: Mild Violence.

Summary: T'pol thinks she's in love with Trip but after seeing a kiss she shouldn't have, maybe she's wrong. I mean, how can she tell what love feels like, she's never felt it before…right?

IOIOIO

Hoshi shook her head.

"No response, Sir."

"Alright, Malcolm, Trip. You're with me." Archer said, rising from his chair. Scans hadn't shown any life signs near the crash site but also that damage to the shuttle was minimal. Surely there must have been survivors but thus far, scan of the Earthlike planet had shown nothing out of the ordinary. If there were aliens out there, they were hiding very, very well.

"Captain, if I may." Archer turned to face T'pol who was standing at her station. "The Sirandan are a Vulcanoid specie, if I were there I may be able to defuse any situation that would arise with the locals without arousing too much suspicion." Archer pause a moment. He used every opportunity to get off the ship and he didn't like putting his crew in danger when he, himself, could be there but…

"I suppose your right, T'pol. Comm. in if you find anything." T'pol nodded as if she were acceding to an order when all Archer really was doing was stating he obvious. He watched her join Malcolm and Trip in the turbolift with a strange sense of foreboding. He got that feeling his grampa always told him came with the brewing of a storm.

Sparing a glance at the sensor log, he notice no plasma storm was on the way but he still had the sense that something was going to happen. He didn't know what but whatever it was….it would bring change.

IOIOIO

The shuttle lay wedged between two rocks, overlooking a very steep drop. It was small, bigger than any of the shuttle Enterprise had on board, but still, there was nowhere someone could hide, and scans showed the only life signs in the area were the small racoon type animals they had been constantly encountering.

"Commander, over here." At the sound of Malcolm Reeds voice T'pol looked up from her task of trying to figure out what the wording on the side of the shuttle meant. It was scratched badly but she could almost make out the outline of most of the letters.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" She asked, peering over the Brit's shoulder.

"Tracks. There's two of them and they appear to be dragging someone or something between them. There's indications of blood here, and here…and it's blue. Also, judging by the irregular spacing of the left set, I'd say they were limping….and wearing boots."

"Very astute Mr. Reed." She turned back to Trip who was stuck with his head under a console.

"Commander Tucker, we are moving on."

"WAIT A WHILE, T'POL! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT I'VE FOUND!" He shouted out from beneath the console. "THESE SYSTEMS ARE SO ADVANCED THEY MAKE THE ENTERPRISE LOOK LIKE A CHILDS TOY! I WANT A LITTLE MORE TIME TO STUDY THESE….WELL…LITTLE GLOWY THINGS!" Reed sniggered from where he stood.

"Talk about your technical analysis." T'pol didn't say anything but raised an eyebrow.

"If we have time we'll return and make a full analysis, however now we must concentrate on finding any survivors." Trip slid out from beneath the console.

"Alright." He jogged down the small ramp to where they stood. "Where to?"

"We found a set of tracks while you were tinkering. Our best bet is to follow them." Malcolm said, indicating the churned dirt with his phaser.

"Hey, I wasn't tinkering. I was…analysing."

"Call it whatever you want, I suggest you keep your phaser ready, they're injured."

"They're people, Malcolm, not animals." Trip said angrily, falling into step behind them.

"We aren't sure what they are."

"I am. I saw the construct of those chairs, I'd say Bipeds, that and, I found hairs on the head rest. Blonde on one, white on the other and brown on one of the seat behind it. Brown was kinda all over the seat though so I'd say he was pretty hairy. How about that you freakin' Boy scout?"

"Eagle Scout." Malcolm corrected with a grin.

"Also, there was blood, blue blood, on the seat with white hair and black blood on the seat with blonde. There wasn't any on the hairy guys seat though. I took readin's, here." He shoved his tricorder at Malcolm. "I was gonna tell ya when I noticed something under the console. They took something from the ship. Something big. I was studying the wires left over to figure out what it was. Nearest I can make out, was some sorta power thing." T'pol plucked the tricorder from his hand.

"Andorian…Regulan…and…" She paused. "Which reading is this?" She handed the tricorder back to Trip.

"The black blood, why?"

"…It's…not right." Both Malcolm and Trip paused.

"What? What do you mean it ain't right?" Trip asked, glancing at the readings.

"How can blood not be right?" T'pol shook her head, not looking at the two officers.

"I suggest we continue following the tracks in silence. They may hear us, think we are natives and hide. That, or we may be able to locate them easier if we hear them first. Follow me." She kept Trip's tricorder with her and continued on.

"Hold on, T'pol. I know what an Andorian is but what's a Regulan?"

"Feilinoid specie, resembling a bipedal lynx. Vulcan's and Regulan's have shared an alliance for many years. The Regulan's are somewhat reserved and have a strict code of honour. That and they don't smell."

"HEY! Low blow, T'pol!" Trip said angrily but paused when T'pol motioned for him to quiet. They had reached the end of the tracks and were now at large rock plateau. Speckling of blue blood on the rock became their new path and although they lost the path many times, they eventually made their way to a clearing near a deep pool. There were the remnants of a camp and ripped pieces of material on the floor, as well as what appeared to be the casing of a food packet. Trip picked it up.

"Food ration." He said aloud. "T'pol, is that Vulcan beneath it?" He handed the packet over.

"Yes."

"Well…what's it say?"

"It says, food ration. It also says in Andorian, Regulan, Deltan, Betazoid, Halkan and several other languages I don't recognise. It also says, contains traces of nuts and ulak."

"Whatever that is." Malcolm mumbled, poking around the ashes of a fire. A red ember showed.

"They haven't been gone long…and it looks to me like they'll be back." T'pol turned to where Malcolm was pointing, there was a small pile of silver wrapped bundles that said in clear writing 'Food Ration' "I believe I've found the equipment you were talking about, also." Trip looked at the metal object, sheltered beneath two large logs. It emitted a blue glow and hummed slightly, shaking against the log every few moments. T'pol instantly ran her tricorder over it.

"It appears to be giving out some sort of energy pulse." She said, taking a step back. The pulse got stronger the further she went. After about twenty paces, the reading faded to a barely detectable level. Looking up she realised Trip, Malcolm and the camp site were gone.

"Commander? Lieutenant?" Taking a step forward, they appeared again.

"It's a cloaking device?" Trip and Malcolm looked at her as if she had grown another head.

"A what?"

"Commander, please come to where I am standing, and take one step back." Trip walked over and turned to face Malcolm, giving a little wave as he stepped back. The air shimmered a moment before the look on Trip's face turned to complete amazement. He stepped back in.

"Well I'll be damned. I've never seen the likes of it before."

"I have, Vulcan's experimented with stealth technology briefly, about twelve years ago. The generators were much larger and noisy, not only that but they emitted harmful Berthold rays that if one was exposed to for long enough, they became fatal. They required mass amount of continuous energy, this…seems to run off a small power source located within itself…fascinating." T'pol took a step back again and froze. Coming in, loud and clear was the sound of someone singing. A female.

"Commander, Lieutenant." She said quietly and gestured for them to come out of the camp. She saw Trip's mouth moving but it wasn't until he left the field that she heard him.

"it, T'pol?" He paused when he heard the singing. "I didn't hear that a second ago."

"Sound appears to be muffled inside the stealth field."

"But I heard you callin' me just fine?"

"Perhaps it has a distance limit." T'pol said, making her way towards the source of the singing. They entered a small outcrop of tree's and listened carefully, slowly it got louder until T'pol could make out the word. Immediately she froze.

"What is it, T'pol?" Trip asked in hushed tones.

"Vulcan."

"What?"

"She is singing in Vulcan." Trip and Malcolm listened.

"That don't sound like no Vulcan I've ever heard." Trip complained quietly.

"It is Golic Vulcan, a language only learned by scholars and school children. I must admit, time has eroded my knowledge of it somewhat. I can not make out what she is saying properly." She listened a few more moments before her eyes went wide.

"What is it, T'pol?" Trip asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. He noticed the green tinge to her skin and smiled. "T'pol, you blushing?"

"It is a less than…savoury song." He grinned suddenly.

"I didn't think Vulcans had unsavoury songs."

"We do not, however the language is there to create one, if someone ever got the urge." She winced. "Let's continue." Once they broke the treeline they found themselves overlooking a giant cirque. T'pol watched the tiny stream that had run a winding course beside them, widen and make it's way into the lake. The little waterfall it created bubbled happily and T'pol watched a slim, pale arm starch above the outcropping. The voice suddenly began singing in English. Whether it was the singers own violation or the Universal Translators kicking in, T'pol didn't know.

"Inside my dreams you burn so bright, I'm with you there and everything's alright!" The voice sang away, completely content as the arm was lathered by a second. Malcolm had already turned away, blushing and Trip did the same. T'pol was about to call out when a roar pierced the air. Immediately the arms disappeared from view and T'pol heard the sound of rushing water, as if someone had just vaulted out. She saw a flash as the same pale hand grabbed a red piece of cloth. Seconds later her attention was taken by a large, black beast loping out of the woods. She was reminded briefly of a le-matya but with black fur and red slashes across its slick fur, rather than the green of her homelands beast.

"SHIT! RUN! RUN! RUN!" The woman shouted The beast was joined by three more. A flash of red and black in front of her made her point her phaser but what she saw shocked hr more than the beasts. A young woman was crouched beside the river on the outcropping, meters away, holding what appeared to be a roughly hewn spear. Her hair clung wetly to her shoulders, turning the bright red of her shirt to a scarlet and sending droplets everywhere as she turned and ran along the river. She paid no attention to T'pol and her team as she ran past.

"SHIRIN! R'RAUL! LE-MATYA'S! GET OUT OF THE WATER!" From a smaller, hidden pool, a blue head rose and a streak of yellow lanced out, catching one of the beasts chasing the woman. The other three chased the woman amongst the trees and T'pol and her team followed, prepared to fire. There was no need, however as they watched her catch a branch and swing herself into the air. She did a full 360 to kick one of the beasts in the back of the head and landing in a crouch near it, thrusting her spears into the one behind it. The third paused, staring at her in the eye and T'pol wasn't sure who was more surprise, her, or the 'Le-Matya' when the woman began to growl. Second later a giant fur ball pounced on it from behind and with a sickening thud, the beasts neck was broken.

"Tonight we eat, eh?" A scratchy voice laughed but the woman shook her head, the dark curls sloshing around her head.

"No, it appears Starfleet have sent the rescue party." She motioned with her chin to T'pol and the two men and the Regulan turned.

"Well, aren't ye a sight for sorry eyes. We were worried. After our warp drive malfunctioned we were flung so far we didn't think anyone would find us." Suddenly the girls faced darkened.

"R'Raul. Look at their uniforms." The Regulan, whom T'pol assumed was R'raul grimaced.

"What are the chances." He muttered, shaking his head.

"I dunno, one in a trillion? Savock would have more accurate results." She sighed and looked up when an Andorian came into the small grove, wearing the same dark pants as the rest but the red shirt was tied around his waist. He also had a phaser aimed at T'pol.

"Drop your weapons."

"No, Shirin. Drop yours, they're Starfleet." Shirin laughed.

"Yeah, my shiny blue ass they are! Didn't Lt. Sullivan wear that jumpsuit to the fancy dress? What did we do, enter the twilight zone?" The woman shook her head.

"No, Shirin. Let me give you a hint. It's just a jump to the left, then a step to the right. You put your hands on your hips and stick your knees in tight." The look on Shirin's face would have been comical if it weren't for the sheer desperation.

"That's impossible! I mean…what are the odds on that?"

"Don't ask me, I'm not a human calculator!" The woman snapped. "Listen, Shirin. Say nothing. The two of you are to have no conversations in the presence of these people. I'll do the talking, this has happened to me before."

"Commander!" The Andorian said exasperatedly.
"That's an order, Ensign. Keep stumph. We'll need their help so interaction is necessary but lets keep contamination to a minimal. Violation of the prime directive is not an option. We'll die first, understood?" The two men bit off a crisp.

"Yes, M'am." Before she rose to her feet.

"My name is…" Before she could finish, a fifth Le-matya roared out of the darkness, swiping her across the back. Immediately Malcolm and Trip caught it in their phaser beams and it fell boneleslsy to the floor.

"COMMANDER!" Shirin was at her side in a moment. "They've poison under their claws, you'll have to beam her straight to sickbay!" The Andorian said worriedly.

"T'pol to Enterprise." This caused two heads to snap up. "Six to beam up. Medical emergency."