Ghost Ship
by Ancasta
Sorryit's been awhile since I last posted. This is what happens when you have an unexpected surgery, two major holidays, move, and work two jobs.
Be afraid. Be very afraid. ;-)
This is a bit of a bridge chapter. It's more dialogue than action, but necessary overall.
I think…
Thanks for your support to this point. I really appreciate the comments. I hope you're enjoying the ride.
Chapter Seven
"I'm sorry, Minister, but 48 hours is nowhere near soon enough."
Jonathan Archer stood, legs locked, in the center of Enterprise's bridge and frowned up at the screen before him. Minister Ku'Sateen's calm visage returned his look, utterly unfazed by the human's impatience.
"I understand your urgency, Captain, and sympathize. But I do not see how the J'Hardinne can accommodate you any more than we already are," the Minister said. "We have located the scientist responsible for the machine your officers discovered and are ferrying him to you with all due haste. What more can you ask of us?"
"To share with us your knowledge," Jon said, taking a step towards the viewer. "To give us what we need to rescue those lost onboard the Br'Teyn."
Ku'Sateen shook his head. "That is impossible, Captain. You and I both know it. We cannot tell you how to program the machine. The technology involved is decades, perhaps centuries beyond your own development. It belongs to us and us alone. In this, we cannot be generous."
Jon's mouth pressed tight and his eyes dipped away before returning to the minister. "Let me assure you—I don't give a damn about your technology. I have no intention of trying to steal it or use it for the advancement of humankind. All I care about is saving our people—yours and mine."
"We will do exactly that. In two days time."
"Minister," said a feminine voice off to Jon's left. T'Pol stood at her station, and crossed around and down to stand beside her commanding officer. "What you fail to consider is we might not have two days."
Jon studied the woman at his side. T'Pol had been oddly restrained since the séance, even for her. After Trip's hold on the real world had weakened and he had faded from T'Pol's quarters, the Vulcan had wilted as well, curling over to lie wearily on her side. Phlox had rushed to her aid, only to be told she required no assistance. She was tired, she had said, and had pressed to her feet. She needed rest, she had told her crewmates, that was all. Assured by Phlox nothing substantial appeared wrong, Jon had left T'Pol in her quarters, not expecting to see her any further that day. Much to his surprise, she had appeared on the bridge a few hours later, alert, yet to Jon's eyes still fatigued. All inquiries as to her health had been brushed aside as inconsequential. Jon was still not convinced.
"On what evidence do you base this claim, Sub-Commander?" queried Ku'Sateen. "We have no historical data to suggest those lost are in any particular danger. Indeed this event is so unprecedented, we have nothing with which to compare it at all. Why do you draw such dire conclusions?"
T'Pol hesitated before replying, her eyes darting towards Jon before once more engaging the J'Hardinne minister. The bridge crew watched, anxiously awaiting her reply.
"It was something I felt when first attempting to communicate with Commander Tucker," T'Pol said, her explanation seemingly reluctant. Jon got the impression T'Pol viewed the information she was about to impart as private, a matter she would have preferred to confess to the minister alone, if at all. Jon wondered at that, at the sort of communion shared by this Vulcan woman and the human man she was trying so desperately to save.
What could they have learned of each other in so intimate a bond? What mysteries might they both have imparted? "The Commander was not waiting passively for me to contact him, but rather reaching out to me, to this plane, on his own. I sensed such an effort was…difficult for him."
"As it would be," Ku'Sateen said mildly, "given the circumstances."
"You do not understand," T'Pol insisted, a measure of temper sharpening her words. "Last night, when the commander appeared onboard Enterprise once more, his life force was…weaker than before. Significantly so."
"Your captain told me Commander Tucker had not only been able to manifest, but to move objects, to communicate with you and your crewmates through a board with symbols and words," Ku'Sateen said with a frown.
"Yes, this is true," T'Pol affirmed. "The commander was able to muster enough energy to make his presence known, but at a great cost. Psychically, it felt to me like a wound had been opened in him. This…injury was slowly bleeding away his essence."
Jon turned to his science officer, appalled. "My God, T'Pol. You never said anything."
"What was there to say, Captain?" T'Pol asked, directing her gaze in his direction. "Such information served no purpose until now."
Jon had to admit she had a point. As much as he wanted to, he had little means to rescue Trip on his own. Still, Jon could not allow such behavior on the part of one of his senior officers to go uncommented upon. He planned on addressing the issue at the earliest opportunity.
"I could feel the difference when he came to me the second time," T'Pol continued, her voice low and persuasive. "The connection was erratic and ultimately short-lived. Although it seemed as if he tried just as hard as before, the commander struggled with control, with being able to manifest at all."
"If his being was so greatly compromised, how did he ultimately manage to come to you?" Ku'Sateen asked, the question sounding to Jon merely curious, not judgmental.
"I lent him my strength," T'Pol said.
Jon once more felt his heart drop to his toes. "What are you saying, T'Pol?"
"When Commander Tucker's energy ran out, I sustained him with my own," she said, turning to face her captain, the look in her eyes challenging, as if daring Jon to question her decision.
As much as he wanted to, Jon couldn't. He knew, in her shoes, he would have done the exact same thing. Still, her actions provided yet more fodder for the discussion to come.
"Think for a moment, Minister," T'Pol implored, her attention again focused on the view screen. "Commander Tucker disappeared from the Br'Teyn over 24 hours ago; your people more than two days before that. The technology of which your people are so protective is designed to change matter. Change it. Not put it in stasis."
Ku'Sateen's brow furrowed. "What are you getting at, Sub-Commander?"
T'Pol took a step closer to the large screen. "Commander Tucker is fighting the transformation, clinging to his corporeal self with every drop of energy he possesses."
"You know that absolutely?" Ku'Sateen asked.
"I do," T'Pol said without hesitation. "The second time he came to me, when I offered him my energy as sustenance, a link grew between us, a bond formed."
"A bond?" Jon echoed, striving to make sense of it all. "What sort of bond? A psychic one?"
"In some ways, yes," T'Pol said, inclining her head. "In other ways, no, not at all. I do not have words to describe it. I have never experienced anything like it."
"What of my people?" Ku'Sateen said, seemingly intrigued in spite of himself. "What did you sense of them?"
"Nothing," T'Pol admitted. "At least…not in the way I intuited the commander."
"How do we even know if they're still alive?" Ku'Sateen asked, almost to himself.
"We do not," T'Pol said. "Not for certain. And yet, I believe there is cause for hope. We experienced telekinesis onboard the Br'Teyn that is consistent with the way Commander Tucker made himself known onboard Enterprise. Such occurrences suggest at least some of the Br'Teyn's passengers have struggled against their conversion. We may be able to save those. With your help."
The minister said nothing at first, choosing instead to look down and away. Jon was about to step in when T'Pol spoke once more.
"According to the ship's manifest, Minister, twenty-two children were onboard the Br'Teyn, some as young as two years," T'Pol said, her gaze unblinking. "Are you prepared to sacrifice them, their parents, for pride?"
That struck a nerve. "This is not about pride--!"
"Nor should it be," T'Pol replied. "Not when you have the means to save 100 lives. Technology is inconsequential indeed when measured against that."
Ku'Sateen did not argue. He merely stared down from the screen, his expression troubled, before saying, "You have given us much to consider. I will consult with my fellow ministers and tell you of our final decision."
"Please don't be long, Minister," Jon advised. "You know what's at stake."
"Yes," Ku'Sateen agreed. Then his image blinked away, replaced by a starkly beautiful star field.
No one moved at first, perhaps considering what had been divulged. Then Jon turned to his second-in-command.
"Sub-Commander, in my ready room, now."
T'Pol inclined her head and followed Jon as he led them away. Those left on the bridge did their best to hide their interest in the proceedings.
Once he and his Vulcan crewmate were behind closed doors and Jon had taken a seat at his desk, he paused before speaking to once more consider his science officer. She stood before his desk, her gaze not meeting his, her posture straight and taut. Jon thought he spied shadows not only beneath her expressive eyes, but swimming in their depths as well. T'Pol looked worn and worried and…fragile, a word he couldn't remember ever having associated with her before, even given the slightness of her build.
"Do you want to tell me your reasons why?" he asked far more gently than he had intended. "Or should I just launch into how, if you ever do anything like that again, I'll ship you back to Vulcan so quickly the trip home will pass in a blur?"
T'pol's brow creased ever so slightly; her eyes were focused on the floor. "Sir, while I have no defense for my actions, I can assure you they were unpremeditated. I only sought to assist Commander Tucker."
"I'm not angry about what you did to help Trip," Jon said. "I understand the impulse and doubt I would have been able to resist the temptation had I been in your place. It's your keeping information from me I'm finding difficult to understand or condone."
With that, T'Pol lifted her head. "In retrospect, it was perhaps not the correct decision. However my intent was not malicious. I did it to spare you. I knew the pressure you were under in trying to save the commander and that you were already doing everything you could to gain the J'Hardinne's assistance. I saw no purpose in adding an even greater burden."
Of all the excuses she could have given him, this was one he had least expected. T'Pol's words infuriated Jon. "For crying out loud, T'Pol, don't try and manage me! I'm not an overtired toddler. I'm a starship captain."
"I'm aware of that, sir."
"Then act like it, Sub-Commander! Don't lie to me. Tell me the truth. That's what I need from you, what I need from all my crew."
"I did not precisely lie—"
"Sin of omission, T'Pol. Sin of omission."
She nodded and looked away again.
"God, don't you get it?" Jon asked, driving his point home. "I need to be able to trust you. To trust what you're telling me is the whole story, not some Vulcan approved abridged edition."
T'Pol swallowed hard, then assured him quietly, "You can trust me."
"I've always been able to," Jon agreed, willing himself not to view the situation from T'Pol's perspective, not to lose the edge his anger gave him just because she was so obviously troubled by his words. Such compassion would be a grave disservice. To both of them. "This kind of behavior raises some questions, though, don't you think? I can't have reason to doubt you, T'Pol. Don't make me wonder about your integrity."
The woman standing before him straightened her spine and lifted her chin. Her now clear brown eyes met his squarely and unflinchingly.
"You will have no such reason ever again, Captain. I give you my word."
Jon held her gaze a beat longer, though he really didn't need to. His point had been made, as had his decision. "Good," he said at last. "Your word is all I ask for."
"Thank you, sir." T'Pol said, relaxing her stance just a fraction.
The matter settled, John sighed and reached up to massage the back of his neck. God. He felt like he had a steel rod back there rather than muscle holding his head erect. "Are you ready to tell me about it now?"
"About Commander Tucker's…condition?"
"If that's what you want to call it. Is Trip going to make it, T'Pol?"
She hesitated. "I don't know."
"Sit down. Tell me everything."
T'Pol did as she was bid and took a seat opposite Jon. "I do not know that I would have noticed a problem last evening had I not had the earlier communication with the commander. It was the first encounter that allowed me to realize how much he had deteriorated the second time he manifested."
"Have you been able to…really communicate with Trip?" Jon asked, gesturing with his hands when the proper words wouldn't come. "You know…speak with him, hear his voice in your head."
T'Pol shook her head. "No. It is more a sense I get. Almost as if I were in Commander Tucker's mind, his body. I receive impressions of how he feels, what he wants, but no detailed exchange of information."
Jon tightened his jaw, dreading what he knew was to come. "What exactly have you learned?"
T'Pol folded her hands in her lap and hesitated before she spoke, apparently considering how best to phrase her answer. Jon's worry ratcheted up a notch.
"The commander's will is strong," T'Pol said at last. "He doesn't entirely understand what has happened to him, but he realizes he is no longer where we are. He feels as if something is drawing him away from here, from us. Yet, despite the changes being forced upon him, he is unwilling to go without a fight."
"Go where?" Jon asked with a frown.
T'Pol shook her head. "I do not know exactly what impact the machine had on Commander Tucker's physical form or on those of the J'Hardinne. They are no longer corporal, but I do not know what they are on their way to becoming or even where they 'are' at present."
"Another dimension?"
"Perhaps. Or perhaps they are with us even now. We just can't see them."
"And Trip is fighting what has happened to him," Jon murmured more to himself than to the woman sitting across from him, wondering how a person would even go about waging such a battle.
"Yes," T'Pol agreed, her expression solemn. "But with every act of defiance, his life force, or energy if you like, is being drained. I sensed that too. The problem was only exacerbated when he appeared in my quarters."
"Drained how, though?" Jon asked, not fully understanding the danger his friend apparently faced. "What will that mean if we're able to bring Trip back? What kind of shape will he be in physically when he returns?"
Again, T'Pol paused before answering. "I do not know."
But, despite their recent conversation, Jon didn't think that was strictly true. T'Pol might not know for sure. But she most certainly had at least a couple theories under consideration. She just didn't want to share. "We could get him back as a corpse, couldn't we?"
T'Pol's eyes slid away from his, her words soft. "It is possible."
"Shit," Jon said, horrified at the very notion, his shoulders slumping.
"Which is why it is imperative we convince the J'Hardinne to assist us with their technology. I do not know how long Commander Tucker and the others can hold out."
Almost as if on cue, Jon's comm console chirped.
"Bridge to the captain," called Hoshi through the speaker.
Casting a look in T'Pol's direction, Jon punched a button. "Archer here."
"Captain, we're being hailed by Minister Ku'Sateen."
T'Pol leaned forward in her seat, her hands holding tightly to the arms of the chair.
"Put the call through here," Jon said, not wanting to waste even the few minutes it would take to head up to the bridge. A moment later, Ku'Sateen's long, narrow face filled Jon's computer screen.
"Captain," the minister said in greeting, "I have spoken to the others on our ruling council. We have considered what you and your science officer have said."
"I hope you have good news, Minister," Jon said, trying to ignore the way his heart pounded almost painfully in his chest, racing with a mix of anticipation and dread.
Ku'Sateen pursed his lips before replying, "It would seem that I do."
Jon glanced at T'Pol. She met his gaze before sighing with obvious relief.
"You shall have the help you seek. I am getting ready to send you initial documentation on the device found in the cargo hold of the Br'Teyn; more information will follow as we receive it. Should you have any questions regarding this material, the man responsible for building the machine will also be made available to you via long-range communication."
A grin split Jon's face wide. "Thank you, Minister. Thank you very much. We really appreciate your help."
Ku'Sateen smiled in response. "You are welcome. You should also know one of our medical ships is on its way to assist with the rescue. I fear your sick bay might be overtaxed trying to deal with all those onboard the Br'Teyn."
"Let's all pray we have a reason for sick bay to be overtaxed," Jon replied.
"Let us indeed," Ku'Sateen agreed. "The J'Hardinne have done all we can. It is up to you now. Bring our people home, Captain Archer. Bring them home."
To be Continued in Chapter 8