Title: Thursday's Child
Author: Sita Z
Rating: T
AN: Thanks for the feedback ;)!
Emiliana Keladry (I totally agree with you – thanks for reviewing!), BananaTrip (exactly, those two anywhere near a shuttlepod spells trouble… ;) ), stage manager (thanks for sticking with the story; I'll keep updating as regularly as I can), JadziaKathryn (exactly my thoughts, it's even more depressing to think about it when you know that such things have actually happened), firebirdgirl (thanks, and happy reading (and reviewing) to you ;)! ), Exploded Pen (thank you… I think you're definitely going to enjoy Chapter 16… lots and lots of Malcolm ;)!), Luna (thank you, please let me know what you think about Chapter 13!), Maraschino (thank you… we're definitely going to get to the Malcolm introspection thing later on!), Trips Girl (wow, thanks! And I think that's exactly how felines see the human race – giant cat toys and occasional can-openers… gotta love cats ;)!), dani-lyn (I'm glad you like it, please keep telling me what you think!)
Please keep the reviews coming!
-----------------------
Chapter 13
T'Pol leaned back in her desk chair, steepling her fingers as she eyed the screen in front of her. A human, she knew, would have sighed in frustration or drummed their fingers on the armrest of the chair. Commander Archer also tended to start pacing at times, an illogical reaction that served no obvious purpose. T'Pol had never understood the exact meaning of the expression "letting off steam".
At the moment, however, she was coming close to the Vulcan equivalent of fidgeting. It was now two weeks ago since she had first started her investigations, but she had learned hardly anything that had been of use. More often than not, the files she found in the Joint Forces archive were classified or had been deleted altogether, a brief code in the back-up system announcing that the data had been irreversibly lost and could not be retrieved. Over the years, Joint Forces Command seemed to have "lost" entire sections of their data archive.
T'Pol knew she was taking a risk, hacking into classified sections that required a password even of the high-ranking Command staff. And from the little she had found out, she knew that she needed to be extremely careful about her next steps. This was not a matter concerning one or two persons in JF Command. From what she had gained, there were more than a dozen people involved, and none of them ranking lower than captain in retirement. Every file that she did open revealed a little more, showed her a brief glimpse of something she was not sure she wanted to see. T'Pol was, as humans would have said, walking on shaky ground.
But, as she kept telling herself, it would have been premature to jump to any conclusions yet. That was not how a Vulcan scientist approached any research, let alone one of such magnitude. Yes, there had been that file listing a number of weapon blue prints that had obviously been translated from an alien language into English. There had been a number of transmission that had gone back and forth between Earth and... some unknown destination, transmissions that had been sent and received more than fifty, sixty years ago. And it was clear that whoever had sent those messages had been trying to keep it a secret.
But the data was not sufficient to draw any logical conclusions. Speculation had no place in scientific research, and T'Pol refused to indulge in such illogical means. No matter how... unsettling her findings might be, she was going to collect data until she was able to form a verifiable theory, nothing more. She was not going to guess. All the more so since guessing might have led her to even more unsettling results.
A soft chime came from the intercom on her desk, and T'Pol activated the connection.
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you, Captain," Ensign Sato's voice came from the speaker. "There's a call for you from Earth. Personal channels."
T'Pol noticed the slight stress the communications officer put on the last two words. "Indeed," she said. "Thank you, Ensign. Please put it through to my quarters."
"Yes, ma'am." The ensign hesitated, then added: "Could you tell her that Hoshi says to say hello?"
T'Pol's eyebrow twitched, but she refrained from commenting on Sato's cryptic request. "Of course, Ensign. T'Pol out."
A small green light flashed up at the bottom of her screen, announcing that the call was being redirected to her quarters. T'Pol raised an eyebrow when she saw the call code that was displayed next to the blinking signal. She opened the connection, and the face of an elderly human woman appeared on the screen. T'Pol tilted her head as a way of greeting.
"Mrs. Tucker, I presume? I am Captain T'Pol."
The woman smiled, rather nervously. "Pleased to meet ya. I... I hope I'm not disturbin' you?"
"Of course not," T'Pol said, wondering why humans always seemed to worry about "disturbing" her in some way or other. "I am pleased to meet you, too. I assume you are calling about the children?"
"Yes." She smiled. "I jus' wanted to let you know that they're here, an' that everythin' went okay. Captain T'Kar dropped them off at the spaceport, and Charles and I picked them up the night before last. The port authorities didn't give us any trouble."
T'Pol allowed herself a brief surge of relief. "That is good to hear."
"I was plannin' to call you yesterday, but then we were so busy gettin' the kids settled that I jus' forgot about it," Mrs. Tucker admitted with a slightly embarrassed smile.
"It is of no consequence," T'Pol said. "I am sure the children demanded your full attention."
The blond woman nodded. "They were a little shy at first, of course, but they're wonderful kids. I can't believe Sara is only nine. She seems a lot older to me at times, the way she takes care of her little brother."
T'Pol was surprised to hear her own thoughts coming from the human woman. "The circumstances she grew up in are very different from those of her human peers," she said. "I do not know if Mr. Tucker has informed you about his past..."
A flicker of sadness crossed Mrs. Tucker's face. "No, we didn't have much time to talk. But I guess I can imagine." She paused. "Any news how they're doin'?"
T'Pol noticed the faint trepidation in the other woman's voice. For a human, Mrs. Tucker was hiding it admirably well.
"We cannot communicate with them at the moment," she said. "But we are following their signature with our scanners. There seem to have been no interruptions of their journey so far. Lieutenant Reed has installed a tracking device so that we can tell immediately if they have slowed down or encountered any other ships."
Mrs. Tucker nodded. "How long until you can call them?"
"If they continue at this speed, it should be another 5.8 days until they enter orbit," T'Pol said. "We will try to contact them as soon as they have reached their destination."
"When you call them..." She hesitated. "Would you tell Trip that Sara an' Sammy are safe with us?"
T'Pol tilted her head. "Of course."
Mrs. Tucker brushed back a stray lock of her gray-blond hair. "Any word from those people at JF Command?" she asked. "They give you any trouble?"
T'Pol raised an eyebrow, remembering her short and unpleasant conversation with Admiral Singer. "Not exactly. I contacted them shortly after your son and Lieutenant Reed had left, and informed them about the escape. They were not... pleased, but did not doubt my presentation of the facts."
She left out the part when Singer had accused her of being deliberately lax about security measures and threatened to send JF ships to search the area. There was no logical reason to upset Tucker's parents when all odds suggested that the escape plan was going to work.
Suddenly another voice came over the connection. "Who are you talking to, Susan? Are you talking to Daddy and Malcolmreed?"
Mrs. Tucker smiled and briefly disappeared from the screen, then emerged again with Tucker's little son in her arms. The child wrapped his arms around her neck.
"Can I talk to Daddy, Susan?"
The woman smiled at him. "No, Sammy, I'm afraid we can't talk to your dad right now. But he and Malcolm are doin' fine. Captain T'Pol here told me so."
Sammy glanced shyly at the screen. "Where's my Daddy?" he asked. "Is he gonna come back soon?"
"I don't know," Mrs. Tucker answered. "But I'm sure he misses you and thinks of you and Sara every day."
The child nodded earnestly. "I miss him, too." He held up a sheet of paper so T'Pol could see it. "I'm doing my lines every day, and Sara says I'm getting better. Can you tell Daddy she said so?"
"I will tell him," T'Pol answered. "And I believe Ensign Sato wants you to know that she 'says hello'."
Mrs. Tucker smiled. "Thank you. The kids are doin' great with those learnin' programs she sent. We appreciate her help."
"Ensign Sato will be pleased to hear that. She assisted Mr. Tucker and the children with their reading lessons while they were on Enterprise."
"She assisted Trip..." Mrs. Tucker broke off. "Oh. Of course. He wouldn't..."
T'Pol realized that up until now, the human woman had not become aware of the fact that her son had never learned to read. Fortunately, Sammy chose that moment to jump back in on the conversation, tugging at Mrs. Tucker's sleeve.
"Can I have another piece of Pea Can Pie, Susan? I'm hungry."
"Sure, sweetie." She set the child down. "Go get yourself a plate, I'll be with you in a minute."
She watched as he left, then turned back to the screen. "He's a great kid. They both are. I suppose we should try an' get them to talk English instead of usin' the translator, but we thought the first few days it might be easier for them that way."
"I agree," T'Pol said. "Mr. Tucker will be relieved to hear that his children are well taken care of. He feels very... protective about them."
"I know," Mrs. Tucker said quietly. "And I'm sure he misses them terribly. I know they're missin' him."
T'Pol said nothing, having learned from experience that humans sometimes objected to Vulcan logic, but were hardly offended if you met their emotions with a respectful silence.
Mrs. Tucker, at least, did not seem offended at all. She smiled. "Well, thank you for takin' the time to talk to me, Captain. It's good to hear that Trip and Lieutenant Reed are alright." She glanced at something outside the visual range of the screen. "I'd better get goin' before Sammy cuts himself with that knife."
"Of course." T'Pol raised a hand in the Vulcan greeting. "Live long and prosper."
To her surprise, Mrs. Tucker mirrored the gesture without any visible effort. "Thank you, Captain. I hope we'll be hearin' from you soon."
T'Pol inclined her head in acknowledgement and the human woman smiled, reaching out to cut the connection. A second later, her image was replaced by the file T'Pol had been studying before Mrs. Tucker had contacted her.
It was strange, T'Pol thought, that her conversation with Tucker's mother should have any effect on her composure, but it did. Seeing the hope in the human woman's eyes when she talked about her son had been... disconcerting. For want of a better word. T'Pol was not used to dealing with that sort of emotion. There was no way she could have told Mrs. Tucker about any of the things she had found in the Joint Forces Archive. If only half of those files had anything to do with Admiral Singer's orders, then it was going to be a long time until Lieutenant Reed and Mr. Tucker could hope to return to Earth.
T'Pol closed her eyes, initiating a brief mental exercise to bring her thoughts back into order. She had been neglecting her meditating hours ever since Admiral Singer had called her, and the strain was beginning to show. Truth was that she was worried. The crew had asked questions about Lieutenant Reed's disappearance, and for the first time T'Pol had been forced to lie to them, saying that the Lieutenant had left on another classified mission. They realized, of course, that she was not telling them what was really going on, but there was nothing she could do about it. T'Pol did not want any more of her crew involved. So far, only Ensign Sato and Commanders Archer and Soval knew the details, and T'Pol realized that they were risking their careers by keeping the true circumstances of Lieutenant Reed's departure a secret.
The most unsettling thing was that she did not know what exactly she was dealing with. All the facts she had learned so far seemed like small stones that belonged to the same mosaic, but there was no logical, scientific way of reconstructing the complete picture. And she needed to understand if she wanted to find a way to help Lieutenant Reed and Mr. Tucker.
T'Pol returned her attention to the screen and the latest file she had found in the archive. It was a list of names and short annotations, written in a rather old-fashioned human code that had been out of use for quite a while. She activated a decoding program, and her eyebrow climbed higher when she saw what exactly was listed in the file. The names did not belong to people but to places, places on Earth that sounded vaguely familiar. To each of the names someone had added a complete set of coordinates, and a brief description of the surrounding area.
T'Pol scrolled to the top of the file, and her eyes narrowed. The names and coordinates had been sent thirty-eight years ago, from a terminal located at what was now the Joint Forces Headquarters. Then, of course, it had only been a military base where the humans gathered their forces to fight the Orion raiders. The transmission frequency, however, indicated that the receiver of the message had certainly not been human. Or Vulcan, for that matter. At that time, first contact between their two people had not yet been established, so it could not have been a Vulcan ship hiding somewhere in the Sol system, waiting for this transmission to arrive. But someone had received it, that much was clear.
T'Pol took a closer look at the names mentioned in the file. Something about them was definitely familiar, something she could not quite put her finger on. Illogical, a stern voice spoke up at the back of her mind. Hunches are a human myth, and they are illogical.
But for once, T'Pol ignored logic, concentrating on that sense of familiarity. She knew she had seen those names listed somewhere else, in another file...
"Ensign Sato to the Captain."
T'Pol struggled to keep the frustration out of her tone. "Yes, Ensign?"
"Captain." Sato's voice was strained. "I need you to come to the situation room, ma'am. It's urgent."
"Of course, Ensign."
She cut the connection, her eyes still on the monitor as she got up. She knew she had been very close to fitting another stone into her mosaic, and maybe it was this piece which would finally give her an idea of the whole picture.
T'Pol closed the file, careful to save the decoded version in her personal archive. On leaving her quarters, she found her thoughts returning to her conversation with Admiral Singer. It was true, he had not been pleased... but there was more to it. T'Pol did not consider herself an expert in reading human emotions, but she believed that it hadn't only been anger in the Admiral's eyes when he learned of Reed's "escape". It had been fear. Even the first time when Singer had called, ordering her to keep the Lieutenant in the brig until he could be "treated" back at JF Headquarters, the Admiral had seemed rather nervous, in contrast to his usual complacent self. It was not a reassuring thought. T'Pol knew that fear held a great power over the human mind, and not in a good way.
When she entered the situation room, T'Pol was surprised to find Soval and Archer standing next to Ensign Sato, studying a monitor on the wall.
"You wanted to see me, Ensign?" she asked. The three officers turned around.
"Captain." The worry was evident on Sato's face. "You'd better take a look at this, ma'am."
T'Pol stepped closer. The screen showed the familiar image, a thin red line making its way in between the sprinkled stars. Close to the small red mark that represented Shuttlepod I, however, there was another warp signature, steadily approaching the shuttle's position.
"I noticed that something was interfering with the data from the tracking device," Sato said. "Commander Archer was able to correct the distortion and separate the signatures. Someone's pursuing them, Captain."
T'Pol turned to Soval who stood with his hands clasped behind his back. "Have you been able to identify the signature, Commander?"
"The analysis is still running, Captain." He stepped to a monitor next to the one showing Shuttlepod I and called up a list of data. "At their present speed, however, the unknown ship will have reached the shuttle in approximately 30.56 minutes."
T'Pol noticed the irritation on the humans' faces, and surmised that Archer and Sato were - yet again - taking offence at Commander Soval's "indifferent" manner. The Commander had been serving with humans for more than twenty years, but his rigid logic and emotionless demeanor still tended to cause a certain friction among the senior staff.
She nodded at the Commander, continuing quickly before the human officers could express their feelings.
"How long ago did you detect the interfering signature, Ensign?"
"I've been checking the readings every three hours, and it wasn't there the last time I looked. They must have dropped out of warp only a short while before."
"Captain." Soval's eyes were still fixed on the monitor. "The analysis is complete." He turned around, and T'Pol saw the slightest flicker of unease in his eyes, although she knew that neither Archer nor Sato would have noticed.
"It seems that the unknown vessel belongs to the Joint Forces."
TBC...
Please let me know what you think!