Exile
"You've never seen it? I was led to believe that it was one of the best films of the twentieth century on Earth."
Trip laughed. "That may be true, but I'm not into chick flicks."
T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "Chick flick?"
"It's okay for you to like The English Patient...you're a chick."
T'Pol set down the PADD she'd been looking at and stared at Trip through the monitor. "Excuse me?"
Trip sighed. "Chick. Woman. Female."
"I believe the correct definition of chick...is a baby bird."
"It's slang, T'Pol."
T'Pol nodded. "The other definition is a slang term for an attractive woman." T'Pol studied Trip's face as his reaction went from blushing to embarrassment to calculation.
"So?"
T'Pol permitted herself to feel amusement and replied, "You find me attractive."
Trip leaned back with a grin. "You're aesthetically pleasin'."
"I believe that I enjoyed the movie, despite it being a 'chick flick'," T'Pol stated, ignoring the flash of tension between them. More and more, she was having to do so.
Trip laughed. "Yeah, I bet you did. How's Earth, T'Pol?"
"Still turning."
"And you? How you doin'?"
"The project is going well. Starfleet is assured that we will have terraforming capabilities at Pegasus Colony within the year. They are pleased."
"That's good. But what about you?"
"I am settling. Mr. McCoy and Ms. Sweed invite me to dinner every night, though I've yet to accept."
"Why not?"
"They are in what is referred to as 'the dating stage', and I am sure that they do not really want company."
"How long they been datin'?"
"Since they met, two weeks ago. Mr. McCoy shares your concern for my well-being."
Trip grinned. "How so?"
"Like you, every time he sees me he feels the need to ask how I am."
"It's common courtesy."
"Most other humans I work with do not."
Trip didn't smile. "Most people are assholes."
T'Pol glanced sharply at Trip. "Commander. Language."
"Sorry. I don' like people givin' you a rough time."
"I've always had a rough time with humans," T'Pol replied with a knowing look.
Trip grinned. "I wasn't givin' you a hard time. I was playin' with you."
"It appeared to be the same thing to me."
"I only did it 'cause you wouldn't let it get to you. It irked me. I wanted to get under your skin."
"Indeed. How are affairs on Enterprise?"
Trip cocked his head. "Doesn't the cap'n tell you everything?"
T'Pol finally set the PADD down, realizing that she wasn't going to get to read it while talking to Trip. "Yes, but I realize that the captain doesn't know everything."
"The crew is edgy, tension high. Not many people on security like the MACOs. Don't know why, but even Malcolm don't like 'em."
"It is logical to assume they feel displaced. Security is being subjugated by the MACOs. Perhaps some activities to integrate the two would be advisable."
"I'll talk to the cap'n about it."
"And everyone else."
"Most people are fine. Chef had a fit about a lack of strawberries in the Expanse and Hoshi is having visions, but other than that..."
T'Pol waited for him to continue but he didn't. "Other than that..." she prompted.
"Nothin'. We're headin' to some sort of meet with an alien causin' Hoshi's visions. Says he can help."
"Is there a chance it's a trap set by the Xindi?"
"The cap'n doesn't think so. He says this Tarquin fellow told Hoshi things that only a telepath could've known."
"That would seem to make him less trustworthy, not more."
"That's what I said, but the cap'n is set on going to meet him."
T'Pol glanced at the clock and saw that she was due at Starfleet in ten minutes. "I must leave or be late. We'll speak later?"
"Yeah. Always. Later." Trip gave a small wave before ending the transmission. A wave? He waved? How stupid could he be? Who waved? Idiots that who! Trip continued an inner tirade on how stupid waving was even as he rose to go to engineering.
Trip had been communicating with T'Pol almost weekly since they'd entered the Expanse and he still wasn't quite comfortable with it. Before this, he and T'Pol had been friends, but not super close. She and Jon had been like that. It was only after his little Cogenitor incident that they'd become closer, but even that hadn't been on this level. Trip felt as if he could tell T'Pol anything, but doubted that he ever would. She was an alien. Exotic and beautiful. It was only in recent times that he had realized that Malcolm was right, and that T'Pol was quite attractive. Not that Trip had been looking at her bum or anything like Malcolm. For Trip it was her face. Angular but solid, with those sleekly pointed eyes that mirrored the points of her ears. Her lips. Her lips were lush and soft-looking, dominating her face, and drawing his gaze every time.
"Commander?"
Trip broke out of his reverie to see that he had almost run into a crewman while he thought. With a quick apology, he continued his way to Engineering, thinking to himself that maybe it was time he got laid or something.
T'Pol pulled on her jacket and left her home, heading for a small pub nearby called "The Poison Apple". This meeting had to be clandestine, or so the mysterious figure had told her. T'Pol wouldn't have even considered attending the meeting if not for the details the person had given, proving that whoever it was and whoever they worked for were watching T'Pol and monitoring her actions.
As T'Pol turned a corner, a young human jostled her, almost knocking her into the wall of a house and causing a sharp pain in her abdomen. Steadying herself with a hand on the wall, T'Pol spared him a small glance before trying to continue. Suddenly, the sharp pain got worse, and T'Pol lifted the hand she'd placed there up. It was covered in green blood. A lot of green blood.
T'Pol turned, trying to get a look at her assailant but the person was long gone. So, that's what it is, she thought to herself, the meeting was setting me up for an assassination attempt. T'Pol continued to work her way to the pub, knowing that her home was too far away to return to. She needed medical help, and she would prefer to go to a public place where her assailant could not assault her again.
However, she was growing weaker and weaker with every step. Every noise was startling to her, for in her condition she was hypersensitive. Every step became like agony, a pain that infiltrated every nerve in her body until she was a walking knot. T'Pol knew that she was making noises with every step but it was only a few minutes to relative safety and help.
The Poison Apple stood on the corner, it's sign, a half-eaten apple, swinging in the breeze. There was a storm coming in from the ocean, bringing the scent of salt with it. T'Pol used the last of her strength to get up the steps and through the door. Before she could call attention to herself, a shadow detached itself from the wall just inside and pulled her outside again. Whoever it was started pulling her down the street, and T'Pol was too weak to resist.
"You took long enough. I said seven. You must understand that this is just as dangerous for me as for you. I-...why are you hunching like that? You're bringing attention. Stand up straight." The man barely spared T'Pol a glance as he kept on pulling her. Finally T'Pol pulled back.
They stopped in the shadow of a large skyscraper, with him sighing in frustration. "What? Why aren't we moving?"
"I'm hurt," T'Pol replied breathlessly.
"What do you-...oh, dear Lord. Why didn't you say something!" The man hunched down and pulled T'Pol's hands away to look at her wound.
T'Pol found his concern amusing. She smiled a little. "You were busy."
The man scoffed and took out his communicator. "General? I've met the target and we're moving North. Bring a medical officer with you. She's been injured."
Through the haze of pain, T'Pol heard a slightly familiar voice. "How bad?"
"If she gets help, not that bad."
"We'll meet you at the rendezvous point."
"Over and out." The man wrapped his arm around T'Pol's waist and started pulling her along the street again. After ten minutes of walking, he stopped. Satisfied with their hiding place, he turned to T'Pol. "How are you doing?"
"I am...going to be...fine," T'Pol said after a few tries. "Did you try...to...kill me?"
He laughed. "No...we're trying to save you. And the rest of the world at that."
"I don't believe you."
"We didn't think you would. So, we got a reference."
T'Pol furrowed her brow in confusion. "A reference?"
"Someone who will avow to our honesty. He'll make sure you know that we're here to help."
T'Pol swayed and watched him through the slowly narrowing black tunnel. "I don't feel well."
The man smiled as a van slowly came around the corner. "You will."
T'Pol slumped in his arms, as emerald blood dripped to the ground slowly.
"What the hell is goin' on, cap'n?" Trip said as he took his station on the bridge.
"Apparently, Mr. Tarquin has convinced Hoshi to stay behind. Or so he says," the Captain explained.
"Hoshi? Nah. What's really goin' on?"
"We're not sure. We had been convincing Tarquin to let us speak to Hoshi, but suddenly the transmission cut out and now there's no answer."
Trip scratched his head. "What are you plannin'?"
"I'm thinking it's time to go down for a visit," Archer gestured to Malcolm, who without a word joined him in the turbolift. Seconds later, the ensign sitting at the communications desk opened up a channel, however. Trip sighed in relief as Hoshi's face came up.
"Trip? Do you think you could send a ship to come get me?"
"The captain and Mal are already on their way down...you okay, Hosh?"
Hoshi looked tired and blinked blankly for a minute. "No. I need to go."
Trip nodded and after the transmission ended, he signaled to the captain to hurry it up. Hoshi had looked battered and so alone on the screen that it made him wonder what he looked like to T'Pol. He'd thought that Hoshi was one of the few people to be thriving in the Expanse. If she wasn't looking good, how would he, someone who was drowning look?
She wasn't answering. It had been three days and T'Pol wasn't answering. Not once. And she wasn't picking up her messages. He'd hacked through the security and figured that out. Why wasn't she there? What had happened? Trip wondered all these things as he left message after message for her.
Finally, he called Admiral Forrest in desperation.
"Admiral?"
"Commander. This is a surprise," the man looked uncomfortable. He was avoiding Trip's gaze and doing a bad job of hiding it.
"I was wondering about Commander T'Pol. I haven' been able to reach her."
The Admiral sighed. "I'm surprised that you haven't been informed. The commander is in the hospital. She was in accident, she's listed as recovering. She'll be home soon."
"What happened?" Trip asked, panic and worry on his voice.
"No one's sure. She hasn't woken up and been able to tell us. I'm sorry, Commander. I must go. I have a meeting in a few minutes." The Admiral cut the transmission off before he cracked. The gentleman across from him smiled.
"Don't worry, Admiral. That was an excellent performance. No one will doubt the story in the least."
"But he cares for her. Sooner or later he's going to want to get into contact with her," the Admiral stressed, not believing for a moment that they could pull this off.
"He will...or he'll contact who he thinks is T'Pol," the man explained as he rose and dusted himself off. "I have planned for all contingencies. Do not worry. The situation is under control."
Wow...something has happened...and I warn you...it's going to get either funnier or odder...I'm not sure which yet.
Trisuns5: You thought last chapter was a cliffie? Oh, baby, you ain't seen nothin' yet.
And thanks to the rest of my reviewers and readers: hanselel, rjgintrepid, and LucreziaNoin86.
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