CHAPTER 11

Hoshi was finishing up the diagnostics on the communications console when T'Pol comm'd her. The sub-commander was sending the Blaniat data to all the senior officers, and asked Hoshi to inform them that they could now access the information.

"You needn't contact Commander Tucker. I have informed him," T'Pol said, causing Hoshi to snicker. Hoshi knew about their relationship, and Trip had probably been standing outside her cabin the entire time T'Pol had been going over the information.

Travis had left some time ago at the end of his shift monitoring the light ship, as Hoshi had come to think of it. She comm'd him in his quarters and told him the news.

Remembering Malcolm's earlier comment, she called the cargo bay on Deck C where the armory equipment was now stored. She found him checking over the most recent tests of the power cells.

"Send the information to the computer in our cabin," he told her. "I'll look at it there as soon as I've cleaned this up and returned the power cells to engineering."

The channel closed, and Hoshi switched her attention to the Blaniat information, accessing the data and settling down at her bridge console to read.

Quite some time later, she felt like she had absorbed so much data that her head would explode. The Blaniats had sent almost too much information. But at least some questions she'd had ever since Enterprise had become stuck were now answered.

The Blaniats were responsible for their predicament. Not these particular Blaniats, but others of their species. The Blaniat homeworld apparently couldn't keep the same government in power for more than five or six years at a stretch. It had been Enterprise's bad luck to stumble across a Blaniat freighter when an isolationist regime held sway.

Under strict orders to avoid contact with other species while en route to their destination, the freighter's captain had given the order to open fire upon Enterprise in an effort to discourage contact. When that hadn't worked, the freighter sent out a call for assistance, and the three Blaniat warships had shown up.

The Blaniats didn't consider themselves to be a vicious people. They hadn't destroyed Enterprise out of hand. The warships instead had, through clever manuevering, herded the Earth ship to this place. The Blaniats had long known of the unusual properties of space in these parts and considered it a fitting punishment for those who dared to intrude upon their isolationism.

When that government was overthrown a short time later, no one in the new government was aware of what had happened to Enterprise. The Blaniats now coming to their aid were honest enough to admit that, had they known, they still might not have sought to do anything to reverse the situation. Governments came and went on their homeworld, and if they tried to straighten out every mess left by previous rulers, they wouldn't have time for anything else.

But they couldn't ignore an outright plea for help. When they picked up Enterprise's distress signal the one time it had managed to get through six months ago, they were obligated to mount a rescue attempt. It had taken four months to prepare the vessel that would be used, and another two months to reach them.

Hoshi sat back in her chair, rubbing her weary eyes. It was a good thing the government hadn't changed hands yet again, she thought. She had no idea what would have happened to the rescue attempt if another set of politicians had taken over.

The overall impression she got of the Blaniats was not a good one. Apparently the majority of them were willing to follow whoever was in charge at any given time, no matter what their policies were.

The Blaniats had admitted their warships had tapped into Enterprise's communications and had been able to learn their language as well as find out some information about their various operational systems. Malcolm would be interested in knowing that, Hoshi thought, and right now might even be working on a way to prevent it from happening again.

They'd left out some important information, too. There was nothing about the mental instability affecting the crew. Were the Blaniats unaware of it, or were they not affected by it?

And how were they able to make their ship move? That issue hadn't been addressed at all in the information she'd just read.

They didn't even know what the Blaniats looked like. The information had been comprised totally of text. There had been no visuals.

Hoshi comm'd for a relief to come to the bridge. The communications console hadn't been manned continuously for over a year now. They hadn't had a reason to do so. Now, however, someone needed to be at communications round the clock in case the Blaniats contacted them again.

As Hoshi waited for her relief to arrive, her console beeped. She had to smile at the coincidence -- she had just been thinking about the Blaniats using text and now T'Pol had sent her a text message. The message read: "Staff meeting. 1500. Captain's Mess."

T'Pol would probably want to pick their brains about the Blaniats, Hoshi thought. She looked at the chronometer and was startled to see that it was 1450. She'd been so absorbed in her work and then reading the Blaniat information that she'd lost track of time and had missed lunch.

Damn! She'd have to hurry to make it on time. Since the turbolifts were no longer operational -- another of Trip's energy-saving measures -- it took longer to get anywhere on the ship using the ladders between decks.

Hoshi left the bridge as soon as her relief showed up. Malcolm probably was on his way to the meeting from their quarters where he had been going over the information. She would have liked to have gotten his impression of the Blaniats beforehand, but knowing him, he was probably more distrustful of them than she was.

She hustled down one ladder, crossed the deck to where the next ladder was located, and climbed down it. Two more ladders after that, and she was on E deck where the mess hall was located. She arrived outside the captain's mess with less than a minute to spare. Pausing to catch her breath, she smoothed down her hair and checked to make sure her threadbare uniform was neat.

To her surprise, there was no one in the captain's mess when she entered. She was looking back out at the main mess hall to see if any of the others were coming when the other door to the captain's mess opened.

The main door closed behind her as she turned around to see Trip entering from the steward's prep area that led to the galley.

"Hey!" he called out. "You the first here?"

"Seems like it," she said. "The others must be running late."

Trip gave her a smile as he walked farther into the room. "They're probably still wadin' through all that information. Sure was a lot of it."

She nodded, keeping her eye on him. She was reasonably certain she was safe with him. It wasn't her he wanted to kill, after all. He wanted something else entirely from her. Still, if it weren't for the fact that the others would be showing up at any moment, she might have been nervous alone with him.

As it was, she took a step away when he moved toward her.

Her reaction didn't go unnoticed. He stopped where he was, averting his face as if embarrassed.

"I'm gonna look for something to drink while we're waitin' on the others," he said, going back into the steward's area. "Surely there's somethin' stashed away that's appropriate to celebrate our upcomin' rescue."

Hoshi could hear the opening and closing of cabinet doors, followed by a satisfied exclamation from Trip and the sound of glassware clinking. In a few moments, he came back into the captain's mess carrying a tray with a bottle and glasses.

"Champagne?" Hoshi said in astonishment as she caught a glimpse of the bottle's label as Trip put the tray down. "We've had champagne on board for two years, and no one's found it?"

"Apparently not," Trip replied, beginning to remove the cork.

"Um...shouldn't we wait for the others?" she asked.

"Nah. I'm too excited to wait on 'em," Trip said with a grin as the cork flew out with a loud pop and the champagne overflowed.

Hoshi grabbed a glass to hold under the bubbling beverage. Trip quickly picked up the other glass and filled it as well. He put the bottle down on the tray and turned to her.

"Here's to us," he said, holding his glass up.

Wondering what was keeping the other officers, Hoshi raised the glass to her lips. She had always liked champagne, but she'd never had it warm. She wasn't sure she was going to like this.

As the rim of the glass touched her lips, she glanced at Trip. He hadn't moved. He hadn't even raised his glass to his lips, and he was watching her closely.

Alarm bells went off in her head. She already suspected him of trying to poison Malcolm. Was he trying to do the same to her?

A darting glance at the tray on the table showed her a detail she hadn't noticed at first -- there were no glasses for the others.

She slowly lowered her glass, her eyes locked with his.

"What are you up to this time, Trip?" she asked evenly.

He looked at her in puzzlement. "What are you talkin' about, Hoshi?"

"Go ahead. Take a drink," she dared him.

"I was waitin' on you," he said. "Ladies first and all that."

"I don't want any," she said, "at least not until T'Pol and the others get here."

Trip sighed theatrically. "Well, I guess ya caught me out, Hoshi." Giving her one of his most charming smiles, he put his glass down on the table. "There is something in the champagne."

"I knew it!" she exclaimed, surprised that she wasn't feeling panicked. Instead, she was becoming angry. As soon as the others arrived, she'd expose Trip once and for all, no matter how much Enterprise needed him.

Placing her glass on the table, she said, "You're trying to kill me, too."

"Oh no, darlin'! Never that," Trip said reassuringly. "I'd never hurt you. The stuff in the champagne is a sedative. I told Liz I was havin' trouble sleepin' and she got me this stuff. I just wanted to make you a little more cooperative."

Hoshi's skin crawled. She hadn't considered that he might try something like this, at least not while Malcolm was around. Maybe she'd been too preoccupied worrying about Malcolm's safety to think about her own.

Trip slowly walked toward her, and she just as slowly backed up. The bulkhead stopped her retreat, and she had nowhere to go. Trip had managed to position himself between her and both doors.

"T'Pol and Malcolm and Travis will be here any moment," she said.

"No, they won't," he said confidently, closing the distance between them.

"Yes, they will. We have a staff meeting."

"No, we don't," he said, stopping less than a meter from her. "T'Pol didn't send you that message."

Understanding dawned, and she whispered, "You sent the message. To me. Only to me."

He laughed softly. "That's right, darlin'. Only you. I don't need those others."

He took another step closer, and she swallowed apprehensively. He put his hands on the bulkhead on either side of her, effectively trapping her. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his, and she could see the madness burning there.

"Malcolm will kill you when he finds out about this," she said defiantly.

To her surprise, Trip laughed. It wasn't a happy sound.

"No, he won't," he said. "Malcolm should be just about taken care of by now. He won't be between us any more."

A sense of dread filled Hoshi. "What did you--"

Trip's mouth swooped down over hers, crushing her lips brutally. She struggled, but his hands grasped her wrists tightly. His body was against her, holding her in place against the bulkhead. As he tried to force her mouth open with his, she bit down hard on his lower lip.

Trip grunted and jerked back. It was all the opportunity Hoshi needed. She violently rammed her knee into his groin.

As he fell away from her, she bolted for the door. She had to find Malcolm before whatever it was Trip had done killed him.