A/N: Thanks everyone for your reviews and feedback! They mean the world to me.
Here the main plot point for this season is introduced. The third major plot point is introduced in the next chapter, the first of several Andorian episodes this season!
I'm taking major cues from unaired season five plans, along with my own personal headcanons with what Major Talok meant by the reunification of Vulcan and Romulus only being a matter of time.
This episode has a lot of Troshi with some smatterings of ATP. Enjoy!
Season Five
Episode Three: Kindred
Trip was seated on a biobed in sickbay, awaiting a much needed injection for a pounding headache.
"Whose idea was it for you to give up caffeine completely, hmm?" The doctor's voice sounded muffled and far away as he rummaged around his medicine cabinet for the correct substance.
"Lieutenant Sato put me up to it," he admitted, "She said that ever since we left dry dock, she hasn't been having her morning cup, and she felt great."
"The Lieutenant hasn't been consuming upwards of five cups a day, every day, for her entire adult life." He finally emerged from behind the curtain, flipping the hypospray upside down and pressing it against the bubble at the top of the vial. Once he was sure he'd drawn the correct dose, he approached Trip and pressed the injector end to his neck. "My advice to you would be to take it slow. Now, stay here for a few moments. This may make you dizzy."
And that moment Ensign Taxa entered sick bay, seemingly on a mission. Immediately, Phlox set aside the hypospray and approached her, moving as if he was going to wrap her in a giant bear hug.
They stopped just short of it, hands hovering over one another's shoulders by a fraction of a centimeter. Trip supposed it was a weird sort of familial embrace, but whatever it was, it was much less uncomfortable than whatever the doctor had done with his wife when she came to visit.
"Half-father," she said, "I've come for my stimulant injection. I can feel my hibernation cycle coming on. With any luck, we can push it off another couple of weeks."
"Certainly, Alira." He instructed her to sit on the biobed adjacent Trip, and the two of them exchanged a curt nod.
From behind the curtain came the Doctor's plaintive request: "I was wondering if you'd be able to help me figure out what to get your mother for her birthday."
"I don't know why you'd bother. One hundred forty isn't that big of a milestone. You ought to wait until one fifty." She glanced at Trip and winked conspiratorially. "These humans must be rubbing off on you."
"My dad always buys my mom flowers for her birthday, most holidays and anniversaries too," Trip said, trying to be helpful.
Alira snorted. "What use does my mother have for flowers? She's not a botanist."
The doctor re-emerged, this time toting a vial of iridescent blue liquid. "I thought about writing her a nice letter."
"You should have spent time with her when you had the chance," Taxa declared, moving her hair to one side to give him access to the injection site. "Now we're hundreds of light years away, and who knows when we'll be back to Denobula?"
"I did spend time with her-an entire month during our leave."
"That didn't count because your other wives and your lover were there," she insisted. "Don't you know anything about romance? I can hardly believe you two have managed to stay together for seventy years."
Seventy years?
Trip scarcely had time to consider that before the comm sounded: "All hands, this is the Captain. We will be arriving in Vulcan space shortly. Senior officers to the bridge."
"That's us," Trip said, and the two slid off their biobeds. "Are you ready to be bored to tears?"
"Will the negotiations really be that bad?"
"No, but the Vulcans might be."
Captain's Log, July 27th, 2155: We have arrived on Vulcan for the second stop of our diplomatic mission. We will discuss details relevant to their introduction into the Coalition of Planets, as well as hear the formalized findings into the investigation of former Administrator V'Las.
"According to his last communique, Administrator Kuvak anticipates that these negotiations will last three days," Hoshi explained to the assembled away team, which was considerably smaller than the last one. "He's new to his role and is leaning heavily on Minister T'Pau and the others on their newly formed High Command for guidance."
In the far reaches of his memory, Archer remembered Kuvak as the minister who had held V'Las at gunpoint and allowed him to demonstrate the Kir'Shara's legitimacy, ultimately starting a domino effect that had caused an unprecedented cultural shift on Vulcan, followed by a complete purging of detractors from the government and a mass exodus of experienced officers from the service. It had been a severe blow to the stability in the region, but the new regime was gradually working towards a more tolerant society.
"Starfleet Security has issued a travel advisory for all commissioned personnel traveling planetside. It seems there's been a resurgence of terrorist activity since the demise of Terra Prime, mostly directed at the higher-ups in the new and old regimes. As a precaution, all family and close associates of the new ministers have taken up residence in the headquarters of the High Command until the threat can be neutralized," Ensign Taxa said. "Minister T'Pau has extended an invitation for us to follow suit. I took the liberty of accepting it."
Beside him, Archer could feel the Captain tense up. He knew she'd been looking forward to visiting her family's home during their visit. Though it had laid empty over a year since her mother's decision to join the Syrannites, it still had sentimental value to her, and she went to tremendous lengths to ensure it was maintained in her absence.
To hide her displeasure, T'Pol cleared her throat and leaned into the table, folding her arms across her chest. "In light of this information, it seems prudent to cancel all scheduled transports bound for shore leave."
Trip shook his head. "The crew's going to be disappointed."
"They'll probably have the opportunity to go planetside when we visit Andoria next month," Archer reminded him.
"And do what? Go ice fishing?"
"Whatever they want," he ground out, turning his attention back to Ensign Taxa.
"My apologies, Commander, but this seems like a very credible threat. A dozen servicemen and women have disappeared from both regimes, and several of them had their entire household murdered. Unfortunately, we don't have further information, as the new High Command has refused assistance from Starfleet Security," Alira said, and the room fell silent.
Archer had dealt with the Vulcans for long enough to know that this meant someone was hiding something. Even though their government was supposedly operating under a new enlightened, unified purpose, some things never changed.
"We'll also be picking up Lieutenant Kov. I understand he's been holed up in the High Command headquarters waiting for us to arrive, along with several other dissidents whose lifestyles weren't strictly approved by the old regime. He's also been targeted by the recent attacks." Hoshi finally broke the silence, sliding her PADD down the table to Commander Tucker. "The Maelstrom's physician will be there as well, though he won't be available to join us until commissioning in December."
"That's probably for the best. I can't imagine Phlox would want to share sick bay," Trip remarked, studying the credentials of his ship's doctor. "Captain, does the name Dr. Yuris sound familiar to you?"
Archer looked to T'Pol, who was struggling to maintain a neutral expression. He knew she remembered, just as well as he, the young doctor who had risked his career to provide them with research on Pa'nar Syndrome during an IME conference three years ago. He also remembered how he'd gone to bat for her during the ethics hearing, telling the assembled physicians how she'd been coerced into performing a mind meld, even though she'd expressly forbid him from revealing that information. As a result, he'd gotten to keep his science officer, but the young man had ultimately been dismissed from his profession's governing board in disgrace.
"It does not," she lied, "What was his last listed posting?"
Trip frowned, scrolling further down the page. "Since last year, private researcher and counsel to the High Command. Before that, physician representative to the Interspecies Medical Exchange. There's a couple years missing in here."
That seemed to check out. The Captain and the Commodore exchanged a meaningful look and then trained their eyes back down towards the table, a maneuver that did not go unnoticed by Ensign Taxa. She made a mental note to look into the situation further. "I believe we ought to keep this landing party very small-the Captain and the Commodore, myself, and Lieutenant Sato. I can't provide adequate security if I'm chasing after a half dozen of you."
"Actually-" Hoshi cut in, reaching up to turn off the computer screen above her head. "I was thinking we could send Ensign Singh on this one. She's yet to have an away mission, and I believe she's more than capable."
Archer nodded. "I'll ask her on our way out. Everyone, let's remember to keep our wits about us and be aware of our surroundings. If you want to carry a sidearm, I don't blame you."
"Dismissed. We depart on the hour," the Captain added, and everyone stood.
"Don't destroy the place while we're out, Trip," Jonathan teased as they exited the room.
"That's a tall order, sir. No promises."
Ensign Singh had been sitting at the communications station since the start of alpha shift, bored out of her mind. Travis was feeling similarly, as his department more or less had nothing to do for the next seventy-two hours as they maintained a geostationary orbit over Vulcan. It didn't take long for him to produce a hacky sack from one of the pockets of his uniform. They'd proceeded to toss it back and forth across the bridge, their trick shots becoming more and more complex as the hours dragged on.
Travis was standing clear across the room behind the empty tactical station when the turbolift doors opened. Just as he made eye contact with the Commodore, the hacky sack left his hands, hitting its arc and striking Dita in the side of the face.
She gasped as it fell into her lap, stuffing it into her pocket and recovering quickly. Travis sat down in Lieutenant Commander Reed's chair and pretended to look busy.
Fortunately for them, Archer appeared amused. "How's your Vulcan, Ensign?"
"I'm fluent, sir."
"Excellent. Get dressed. You're coming with us to negotiations."
He made a swift exit, and as soon as the turbolift doors closed behind him, she stood, visibly excited. "My first away mission! Lieutenant, what do I do?"
"Pack for warm weather," he said. "If you're asking for my personal advice, though, avoid rock climbing walls and any unusual sports."
She looked confused, but nodded and rushed to the lift. "Noted, sir. Thank you!"
Vulcan was even hotter than Jonathan remembered. As soon as they beamed onto the landing platform outside the High Command's headquarters, it enveloped him, causing him to break out in a sweat and his cheeks to flush. Even the fact that they were at least a dozen floors off the ground didn't seem to help matters. There was no breeze to speak of. T'Pol had said something about it being the middle of the summer while they were in the Forge, so he fleetingly wondered exactly what this infernal heat would be considered.
Ensign Taxa was punching buttons on her tricorder, no doubt scanning the building for all means of weapons and explosives. When she finally looked up at him, shaking her head, the four of them began to approach the entrance, where two Vulcans stood in wait.
Minister T'Pau was the first to greet them, pushing back the hood attached to her rather stuffy looking robe. In contrast to a majority of her guests, she appeared perfectly composed, with not a hint of discomfort adorning her features. In the short time he had spent with her traversing the desert in search of the Kir'Shara, Archer had grown to know T'Pau as brilliant and dedicated, undaunted even in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds.
"It is agreeable to see you again, Captain, Commodore," she said, nodding to the both of them. "Allow us to be the first from the High Command to wish you congratulations on your promotions."
"Starfleet honors us by selecting one of our own to lead their flagship," Administrator Kuvak acknowledged, though a hint of something indecipherable rushed across his features.
"It was an easy decision," Archer promised, gesturing to the other officers. "Allow me to introduce our deputy communications officer, Ensign Nandita Singh."
Dita greeted the two of them in flawless Vulcan, offering the ta'al, which they both reciprocated. "Soon to be an officer of the Maelstrom, so I hear. This is a testament to your talents. You hardly have an accent, Ensign."
"Thank you, ma'am."
"And my personal security attaché for our diplomatic mission, Ensign Alira Taxa."
"Your reputation precedes you," the Administrator said, "Our latest class of pilots has been studying your academic treatises on sector-wide combat dynamics."
"I'm glad I could be of some service. I can only hope the Vulcans and the Denobulans can form as strong of a military brotherhood as you now possess with the humans."
The corners of the Minister's lips upturned for a fraction of a second, as if she were amused. Abruptly, she cleared her throat and turned, leading them into the corridors. Archer followed closely, secretly grateful to be getting out the heat.
The hallways were mercifully dark and nearly silent, save for the air rushing through the climate control conduits overhead. Every so often they would pass what were presumably other members of the High Command or their staffs, heads down, rushing past them with not even a word of greeting. There were even a few children dressed in identical dark robes, being herded this way and that by their adult minders. At every junction in the hallway stood a heavily armed member of the Security Directorate, staring straight ahead, not daring to pay them any mind as they passed through.
"I must apologize for the state of headquarters. With the recent rise in terrorist activity, our ministers and their families have taken refuge here. We are also sheltering a great number of Kir'Shara disseminators and members of counter culture movements," T'Pau explained, coming to a halt before a set of heavy wooden doors.
"We've had no choice but to increase our personal security," the Administrator said as he leaned into the door.
The reception chamber of the High Command was surprisingly small, with a high, domed ceiling and windows that circled the room on three sides. Heavy curtains had been drawn across them, causing the room to only be illuminated by a few slivers of sunlight that managed to cut through the fabric. The rich, earthy tones that saturated everything in sight didn't seem to help matters.
Two men were seated at a small circular table in the middle of the room, their faces obscured in the near darkness. As they entered, both of them stood, and Archer could very clearly make out that one of them was wearing a neatly pressed Starfleet uniform, trying and failing to hide his excitement.
"Lieutenant Kov reporting for duty!" He called out before they could get near him, standing ramrod straight.
This time, Archer was first to engage their new recruit. "At ease, Lieutenant. It's good to see you again. How's your father?"
Kov's expression clouded for a fraction of a second. "Still going strong, sir. He was a member of the first Coalition delegation, where he met you Admiral Gardner."
"And I suppose that's how we became lucky enough to have you on our crew," Archer smiled, knowing full well that the Minister had been able to pull a few strings.
"Yes, sir. After we crossed paths the first time, I decided to rejoin the service, but felt a bit out of place among my own kind. They all knew about my past and treated me as an outcast. I knew I'd have a better chance of fitting in among the humans." He cut a nervous glance to T'Pau, before adding in, "If I may say so, ma'am."
She flexed her shoulders minutely, as if to say that she quite understood and didn't blame him.
Finally Kov turned to greet his Captain, and the walls of composure slammed down over his previous enthusiasm. He even appeared nervous. She wondered if he knew.
A flash of memory. A voice whispering in her ear, goading her, pulling her past the point of no return.
Why do you stay in this place? Tolaris had asked, and she didn't know.
The next day, they'd been in her quarters, testing the waters. Then all of a sudden he was probing further, pushing into the most guarded parts of her mind. Then she was physically and mentally struggling for control.
He'd only left when she was thoroughly beaten down, when she was too weak to stand, when he'd taken everything from her, leaving her to pick up the pieces over a matter of years, not months, not days.
She dug her fingernails into her palms, hoping not to draw blood. "I look forward to your service, Mr. Kov. Commander Tucker sends his best."
"My good friend Trip," he said fondly, looking back on Archer. "Will I really be the chief engineer aboard the Maelstrom?"
"Second in command, I take it, behind Commander Kelby," he corrected him gently. "They'll be putting you through your paces as soon as our negotiations are done here. You'll be a proper Starfleet engineer before you know it."
"I look forward to it."
His companion had been standing quietly behind him during the entire exchange, and seized the opportunity to step forward. Yuris was fairly tall for a Vulcan, with expressive green eyes and a permanent inquisitive look. He looked between the the Captain and the Commodore and seemed to ponder his next move for an indeterminable moment, before finally saying, "It is an honor to meet both of you."
His choice of words was not lost on T'Pol. "And you, Dr. Yuris. You are certainly welcome to come with us at the closure of these negotiations."
"I appreciate the offer, but I am needed here for the next few months," he answered rather cryptically.
From the other end of the room, the doors opened to admit someone else to their gathering. Ensign Taxa's hand floated over her phase pistol, but she relaxed when the Captain greeted them by name. Truthfully, T'Pol would have recognized his silhouette from a kilometer away.
"Ambassador Soval. I was unaware you would be joining us this afternoon."
Archer's long-term cohort and friend-dare he refer to him like that at this point?-looked preoccupied, as if something was on his mind. Cutting a glance to T'Pau and Kuvak, he observed that they seemed to be every bit as surprised as they were.
"There was an unanticipated change in my schedule," he said, and approached the table. "Shall we begin?"
Back on the Enterprise, Hoshi was trying and failing to look busy at her station.
It had only taken Trip about forty-five minutes of sitting in the Captain's chair to grow bored and leave, probably to go tinker with his engines. An hour later, Malcolm had followed suit, excusing himself for lunch when they both knew full well he would find an excuse not to return for the rest of the shift. Even Travis had left in pursuit of Ensign Hutchinson, muttering something about upgrades to the navigational array.
This had left Hoshi alone on the bridge, in addition to three or four crewmen at the work stations in their makeshift situation room. Making sure that none of them were looking in her direction, she dragged Dita's chair over and propped her feet up in it, before reaching for her PADD and checking her messages.
In the senior officers' group chat, which she supposed was a misnomer because it didn't include the Captain or the Commodore, Commander Tucker had just posted a picture of himself standing in front of the warp core, hands on his hips, looking amused. He was covered from head to toe in some kind of strange red goo; Hoshi could barely make out Rostov, mostly out of the frame, curled up on the floor next to a bucket as he laughed hysterically.
The caption: Rostov tripped and spilled plasma conduit lubricant on me last night. Smelled like death. Here's the evidence just in case you hear any rumors that I had to strip down to my skivvies in engineering yesterday. I don't know what I'm going to do with them.
Reed's reply: I'm sure you could have made it back to your quarters before stripping down.
Then Ensign Singh: Seems gratuitous to me...exactly how often do you find the occasion to walk around the ship in your underwear?
Way too often, Hoshi thought, shaking her head.
In the chat where they planned their pickup basketball games, Phlox was arguing that he and Ensign Taxa should be allowed to play on the same team. Travis had taken objection to this, because the last time the good doctor had played, he had dominated the game with his preternatural athletic ability. It wouldn't have been fun, let alone fair, for both of them to be on the same team.
Let them play each other one-on-one first, suggested Ensign Nguyen.
Have him tie one hand behind his back, said Sergeant Kemper.
Hoshi smiled and typed out her reply: I'm not afraid of the challenge, Travis...are you?
Send.
Commander Tucker suddenly rushed onto the bridge, toting two rolls of fiber optic cables under his arms. He made a beeline to her station. "Lieutenant, could you help me out? I'm hearing from the non-coms on C and D deck that they're not receiving comm signals in their new quarters."
"The ones that the retrofit crew at dry dock built?"
"Yep. Sure did a shoddy job. I figure that if you want something done, you gotta do it yourself."
"So you're asking me for help, and not anyone in engineering?"
"What, are you busy?" He spared a cursory glance around the empty bridge.
"Well, no, but I should be here just in case we receive any hails."
He tilted his head towards the situation room. "Crewman Patel will have us covered. Come on, Hoshi, what else are you going to be doing for the next three days?"
She thought about this, taking in his open stance, his friendly smile, and the glint in his eye, and suddenly decided there was no place she'd rather be.
Archer had made up his mind, as they haggled over the finer details of Vulcan's admission into the Coalition, repeatedly getting trapped by circular discussions or logical fallacies, that the one thing that hadn't changed about their delegation over the years was their stubbornness.
Minister T'Pau had even raised her voice once or twice, and had recently begun to pace, leaving her robe slung across her chair and tracing the circle of the room. Kuvak seemed disaffected and Soval didn't seem focused at all, repeatedly trailing off his sentences and appearing deep in thought. Finally, as they neared the end of the discussion and Lieutenant Kov was dismissed along with Ensigns, Archer knew that the conversation would soon turn to several former agents of the High Command.
"We must remind everyone that what is shown in this chamber must remain classified, as what we are about to discuss may lead to further political unrest or complete destabilization of the region altogether," Kuvak began, drawing up the image of a young man on the viewscreen built into the table.
He looked vaguely familiar to T'Pol, and she soon understood why. "This is Major Talok, a former member of the Security Directorate. He was sent to apprehend Archer during our mission to bring the Kir'Shara to the chambers of the High Command. He failed, and disappeared shortly after. During our investigation, we reexamined the blood sample he'd provided us during his enlistment and made a fascinating discovery."
Dr. Yuris leaned forward and advanced the screen, displaying a modified DNA helix. "See here, these base pairs nearly match a sample we recovered from an abandoned probe hundreds of years ago during a skirmish with a malevolent species. It was over 98% similar to the Vulcan genome, with several notable differences related to physical appearance and temperament. When I filtered the sample, I discovered the presence of biomimetic agents that appeared to mask these differences. There's no question. This man was a Romulan."
"The last registered sample which did not contain these biomimetic agents was given while he was a child seeking admission in the Security Directorate training program," Soval continued, "This means that the man we knew as Talok served on critical missions and viewed highly classified documents, all while funneling information to the Romulan Star Empire for over thirty years. We never knew it."
The shame in Soval's voice was evident, but Kuvak wasn't done.
"A month after Talok's disappearance, V'Las also vanished. It appears that the true V'Las was replaced as a young man rising through the ranks of the High Command some eighty years ago, wherein it appeared that his platform shifted to more extremist views almost overnight," Kuvak said, pulling up several images of V'Las over the course of his career.
T'Pau came to a stop directly behind them, leaning forward and pointing to the middle of the screen. "What do you see here, Archer?"
Now that it was all laid out for him, it was obvious. The young man and the middle aged man looked somewhat similar, but there were several obvious differences-a larger forehead, a shorter nose, thinner lips.
"Surgical scars," T'Pol answered for him, quietly. They were tiny, but they were there, especially around the eyebrows and temples.
"These Romulan sleeper agents were surgically altered to appear Vulcan," T'Pau concluded, resuming her pacing. "Once this information was revealed to us, we began to study samples given by other members of the High Command."
"We discovered that they'd infiltrated all levels of Vulcan society. While most of our government and military officials left the service due to their objection over the implementation of the Kir'Shara, a select few meant to go into hiding and quietly disappear," Soval brought up a screen full of portraits of suspected agents, a sea of stoic faces.
"When we began to question some of their associates, the Romulan agents reacted, some more severely than others. A vast majority simply disappeared, while others killed themselves along with their families, who presumably knew about their deception. Some have been killing former members of the V'tosh ka'tur and the melding minority. We can only assume their aim is to further destabilize the region and create the illusion of social unrest." Kuvak looked between the two of them, as if waiting for their input.
"These Romulan agents have been perpetuating the terrorist attacks as an attempt to de-legitimize the new High Command. We cannot let them succeed. I'm sure you can appreciate why we are keeping our ministers here, and why we've turned down the assistance of Starfleet Security. This is a purely Vulcan problem, Commodore, and we are telling you this so you can remain vigilant as you continue your mission," T'Pau declared, avoiding eye contact entirely with T'Pol.
"I trust that you will continue to study the blood samples of prominent citizens on Vulcan," T'Pol said finally, pinning Dr. Yuris down under her gaze.
"We will, but we only number four. The rest of the ministers are not aware of these developments, as we are still in the process of gathering samples from their families with the assistance of several trusted members of the Security Directorate."
"And Kov, does he know about this?" Archer asked.
Administrator Kuvak shook his head. "Only that he is in danger from terrorist attacks of an unknown origin. Except to go to Earth for Starfleet training, he hasn't left headquarters for the past year."
Archer exhaled, still processing this information. The Romulan conflict, as it turned out, hadn't ended with the Babel Crisis. And they expected him to not tell Starfleet Command a thing about it.
Ambassador Soval stood, followed by the rest of the Vulcan contingent. "We will be adjourning for the evening. We encourage you to stay indoors and not stray from the compound unless it is entirely necessary."
"I'll be spending the night in my mother's home," T'Pol declared suddenly, staring the ambassador down as if daring him to refuse her.
Soval appeared very wary, but didn't question it. "Very well. Use the transporter, and take that security officer of yours."
He reached the doors and opened them, almost running headlong into the woman in question. The Vulcan dignitaries began to disperse quickly.
"Lieutenant Kov, Ensign Singh, follow the Minister. She will show you to your guest quarters," T'Pol ordered.
"And where will you go, Captain?"
"To my family home. It's only a short distance from here. I've...forgotten some items that I need to bring back to Enterprise."
"I'll be coming with you," Alira said, and it wasn't a question.
"Naturally, Ensign," she replied dryly, moving off in the direction of the transporter pad.
"I'll get our bags," Archer called out to her retreating back, suddenly deciding that he wasn't going to let her go alone.
T'Pol didn't object, though she did visibly flinch. Taxa looked between him and the Captain with her eyebrows raised, before looking down to the floor and deciding to mind her business, disappearing around the curve of the hall.
"What did you think of the movie last night?" Trip asked, his voice muffled as his entire upper body disappeared into the ceiling.
Hoshi set aside the paneling they'd just removed and crossed her arms. "Can't say I've got an opinion, Commander. I wasn't there."
"I noticed," he replied sardonically. "And what did I say? There's no rank after duty hours."
"Sure thing, Trip," she said, checking her chronometer. It was well past 2300, and they were still hard at work running fiber optic cable for comm links to the new quarters. She wasn't sure exactly how the time had passed so quickly, but between the jokes and engaging conversation, she wasn't anywhere near tired. "I don't see why it's such a big deal that I'm there anyway."
"Gotta set an example for the junior staff. Spanner, please," he requested, holding out his hand.
She passed the tool into his hand. "Speaking of junior staff…" After verifying they were the only ones in the hallway, she lowered her voice and asked, "I heard that Hess and Kelby got into it again two days ago. What can you tell me about that?"
Trip wouldn't have normally indulged in idle gossip, but this time it really was good stuff. "Well, I wasn't there, but from what I heard, Kelby made some kind of insinuation about her ability to realign the warp coils without me double checking her work."
Hoshi giggled. Anna Hess was a headstrong, six foot tall, red-headed engineer with a slight German accent and a bit of an attitude problem. Most of the time it made for good entertainment, but on the odd occasion it got her in trouble. "What did she do?"
"Apparently she hauled off and told him to get off her back, that she'd been doing these calculations since before he was even assigned to Enterprise. And then, in front of everyone and God, she called him a….a…" He hesitated, knowing he was going to mangle the German pronunciation. When he said it, Hoshi burst out laughing.
He took a step down the ladder and looked down at her. "What does that even mean?"
"You don't want to know."
He shrugged. "She's lucky Kelby was in a good mood, because she could have been written up for insubordination."
Just beyond his reach lay the final cable connection for the section, but he couldn't reach it. His shoulders were too wide, and if he forced it, he knew he'd probably get stuck in the ceiling. That would wind up in the senior officers' group chat for sure.
"Hoshi, can you get up here and tie into this relay?"
"Sure," she said, clambering up the ladder as he climbed down. As Trip watched, she reached the top rung, her entire body disappearing into the ceiling except for her knees and calves. He heard her struggling for a few seconds, then she made a small sound of victory and began to descend.
At one point she stepped to the far side of the ladder, setting it off balance and causing it to wobble severely. Before Trip could say a word of warning, she slipped, and he reached out to catch her.
Hoshi soon found herself being held off the ground by her superior officer, like she was about to be carried over the threshold. It was a little bit awkward, and all she wanted to do was diffuse the situation.
All she wound up doing, however, was pressing a hand to her forehead in a mock swoon and crying out in the most exaggerated Southern accent she could muster, "My hero!"
"Really, Sato? You're making fun of me while your life is in my hands?" He scoffed, beginning to spin around and around. Soon they were both laughing, clinging onto one another for dear life.
Suddenly Lieutenant Commander Reed appeared at one end of the hall, dressed for bed, holding a mug of hot chocolate. Hoshi saw him before he did and jumped out of his arms, hurriedly smoothing out her uniform. "Malcolm," she said evenly.
"Commander, Lieutenant," he replied, passing by them as quickly as he could on his way to his quarters.
Talk about awkward. As soon as he disappeared around the corner, Trip called out, "Sweet dreams, Mal!"
Hoshi socked him in the shoulder and bent down to gather their tools. Trip rolled his eyes. "Like he's got room to judge us for having fun. Have you seen him with Ensign Taxa?"
"Everyone has!"
As they shuffled down the hall, laden with wire coils and a rather unwieldy ladder, Trip whispered, "I wonder how long before they jump into bed together."
She gasped in mock surprise. "Honestly though, I'd be surprised if they hadn't already."
"You think?"
They passed into the next section of D deck and set down their tools. "For sure. She's putting out some pretty obvious signals. They've been playing chess in the mess hall, and sitting by themselves during meals."
Tucker thought about the first time Phlox's wife had visited their ship. Malcolm had mentioned he'd found her rather attractive. Maybe that was a thing.
Much to Hoshi's amusement, he told her about how Malcolm had been trying to get back at Alira for bending the rules during the war games simulation. According to his good friend Sergeant Cole, she'd bested him at target practice, at martial arts, and at distance running. Taxa continued to tease him during their training sessions, telling him he'd win one of their contests at some point before the Denobulan sun went supernova. Amanda went as far as to say that the amount of sexual tension between them was bordering on ridiculous, and several of the MACO ladies had started to place bets on how long it would be before they could tell one of them did something about it.
"I think he must secretly like being bested all the time. He keeps finding little ways to bring her up in conversation, too. I'm telling you, the man's head is completely gone," Trip said.
They both laughed at that. "He better make his move, because I know for a fact he's not the only one on board that's interested. I'm sure she'll break his heart when she leaves for the Maelstrom. I respect that."
Trip stretched out the ladder and began to climb it, fiddling with the hand holds on the paneling above him. "Speaking of leaving for the Maelstrom, didn't you say something about that at dinner that one night?"
He was referring to the night before they'd shipped out, having an informal officers dinner at Madame Chang's. She nodded, but said nothing.
"If you don't mind me asking, why would you want to leave Enterprise?" He finally got the paneling off and passed it to Hoshi, who set it on the ground with a huff.
She shrugged. "Sometimes it helps to have a change of scenery. A new mission, new crewmates, things like that."
Trip beamed down at her as she passed him one end of the coil, and he started to feed it down into the compartment. "Are you sure it's not just because of me?"
She was quiet for a few moments, as if she was considering her next words carefully. "What would you say if I told you it was?"
As she beamed into her childhood home, T'Pol was shocked by how empty it felt. All of the furniture was in the exact same place as it had always been, down to the crest of her family's clan standing on the side table, and the Surakian iconography covering the walls. It seemed to be frozen in time. She almost expected any moment for her mother to come into the room, telling her to hurry along and set the table for the evening meal. With a sudden wave of sadness she could not suppress, she realized she was holding on to a memory she could never get back.
Now that she was paying attention, the air smelled musty and stale, and a thin layer of dust seemed to cover everything. She walked around turning lights on for a minute, only half aware of Archer and Alira standing at the end of the hall.
"I would like to stay here tonight," she asserted, foolishly, mindlessly. To Jonathan: "There's a guest bedroom at the end of the hall."
Ensign Taxa looked like she wanted to protest, but kept her mouth shut. "I'll go make sure the house is secure."
The moment she disappeared down the hallway, Archer reached for her hand. She held it for a fraction of a second, then broke away and retreated to the corner of the living room. "I know how you must be feeling. That anyone you grew up with could be a fraud, that there's no one you can trust."
"All of Vulcan must live in fear until this threat is neutralized," she said softly, looking up at a portrait on the wall. He joined her, taking in the photograph of a Vulcan couple and a very serious looking little girl.
"Is that any different than how they had been living before?"
She turned to face him, not daring to touch him, but coming within a fraction of a centimeter. "You're thinking of humans. Vulcans, we live with the consequences of our own hubris."
"House is secure!" Alira called from the hallway. She took one step into the living room and stopped in her tracks when she saw them standing so close together, making an abrupt about-face. "I think I'll post up downstairs. My hibernation cycle is still a couple weeks away, so perhaps I'll do some reading...catch up on my messages...watch a movie..."
Alira's voice faded away as she returned the way she came.
Jonathan couldn't help but think that he could close the gap between them within a second, kiss her, hold her as he'd thought about many times…
"Sweet dreams, T'Pol," he said at last, retreating to the guest room and leaving her where she stood.
That night, T'Pol slept fitfully, wrapped in one of her mother's robes. Just before she went to bed, she'd stolen it from the hall closet and brought it to her face, desperate to get any hint of her familiar scent. But it had been over a year since T'Les died, and all she smelled was dust.
She wished they'd been closer when she was alive.
She dreamed, which she rarely did. The last time she'd done so-meetings with Commander Tucker in their white space notwithstanding-was during their time in the Expanse, the day she'd finally come clean to Phlox, the last day she'd dosed herself with trellium. It had been one of the most difficult periods of her life, and she had ample time to dissect it over the past six months.
That didn't stop her from instantly becoming fearful when she appeared in a dark space, with a narrow opening far ahead. Slowly she approached it, watching the light grow larger and larger, feeling the ground rumbling underneath her feet.
You know who I am, don't you?
The voice seemed to come from all around her. "Who's there?" She called out, bending forward defensively. The ground sloped up steeper and steeper until she was scrambling, reaching, feeling around on the ground with no purchase, desperately trying to reach toward the light.
You've always felt different, and now you know why.
It was as if someone had pushed her from behind, giving her the needed boost to crawl out of the cave on her hands and knees. She soon realized she was on the ledge overlooking the Fire Plains, where she'd taken Trip to tell him she was planning to marry Koss.
You've always been told your emotions were very close to the surface.
She squinted into the sunlight, taking in the mountains and great rifts in the ground below her. It was impossible. There was no one around.
Turning around, she was shocked to see her father standing there, exactly as she remembered him, tall, with immaculate composure and a stern expression. But when he opened his mouth, it wasn't his voice. "I'm the reason."
"You're not real," she found herself saying, starting to back away. "You died when I was a child. It was an accident. I saw your body."
"I'm sure you really must believe that." He reached out and seized her hand, bringing it to his chest. "I'm sure you must also believe that I was an agent of the Security Directorate, that I encouraged you to join, that I walked you to the transport your first day of attendance at the academy."
"You did. I remember all of those things."
Suddenly a great deal of vibrant green blood came seeping out from under her hand onto his shirt. She desperately tried to pull away, but he held fast.
"The man you knew as Venek died two years before you were born during an undercover mission on the Romulan homeworld. He was replaced with an agent of the Tal Shiar, who already had a family of his own. That man was your father."
"You're lying. My mother would have known."
"She did know, eventually. He told her everything, and he was promptly terminated by the Tal Shiar."
"Who are the Tal Shiar?"
"Those who you once knew as Talok and V'Las are among our ranks."
"And who are you?"
"I am the first born of the man you knew as Venek. My name is Solan. I am your half-brother."
"Why do you use this vessel? Show your face!"
Her father's lips spread apart in a wide, sinister smile. Before she could react, he ran at full force towards the edge of the cliff and threw himself over the edge.
This time she actually did scream, something she would never do in the waking world, covering her mouth with her hands.
I am giving you the chance to forsake the humans and join me in the reunification of our people. These humans are the single greatest threat to our way of life in the past one hundred thousand years. We must act now to remove this blight on the universe.
The voice was coming from all sides again, but much louder now, echoing around her head and seeming to shake the ground.
"This is impossible. You're not real. I'll never join this fantasy!"
Very well, then you will know no peace.
She felt an immense force pushing her forward to the edge of the cliff. She fought tremendously against it, swinging her arms and kicking at nothing, before she was summarily pushed off the edge, plunging down into nothingness.
T'Pol awoke to the feeling of Jonathan's arms around her, holding her tightly as she thrashed about. In one swift motion, she broke free and retreated to the end of the bed, shaking so hard she felt like she would fly apart.
Ensign Taxa burst through the door that next instant, phase pistol held aloft. "What's going on? I heard screaming!"
With great difficulty, she threw her legs over the side of the bed and stumbled towards her, though she looked like she would fall over any minute. "We must return to the city immediately."
Some distance away, Dita awoke to the sound of her communicator. She had to feel around in the darkness for a while to locate it, but when she did, she flipped it open and was startled by the sound of Alira shouting into the receiver.
"Dita, you must wake up everyone that was at our meeting this morning and gather them in the receiving chamber." In the background, she could hear the roar of panicked conversation; one person was nearly yelling, while the other sounded very close to tears.
"What? What's going on?"
Truthfully, Alira didn't know how to even begin explaining the situation that was unfolding before her. So, she settled for a rather vague: "Someone's threatened the Captain." Then she closed their connection.
Far removed from everything unfolding on the surface, Trip and Hoshi were both seated atop a table in the mess hall, sharing a plate of cookies.
"I can't believe you've never done this. Did you have a childhood at all?" Trip had just finished demonstrating how to separate the cookies into two pieces, lick out the center, then recombine them and dunk them into a glass of milk.
"Sure I did. Just not the same kind that you did," she reached for her glass and took a giant swig, leaving her with a rather goofy looking milk mustache. Over his shoulder, she glanced at the chronometer on the wall. "Can you believe it's 0300? We have to be on duty in five hours."
"I can't believe we got all that done in twelve hours. We're a bunch of miracle workers," he answered, giving her a high five.
Trip watched her make quick work of another cookie, dipping it into her glass then popping it in her mouth with a satisfied smile. It could have been the lateness of the hour talking, but he knew he had to vent to someone about it.
"Hoshi, do you mind if I ask you a question?"
"Depends. Is it a personal question?"
"Not personal to you."
"Ooh," she whispered, leaning forward, propping her elbows up on her knees. "If it's so personal, why don't you ask Malcolm? Isn't he your closest friend?"
"I need a woman's opinion."
"Oh, so it's that kind of personal question."
He rolled his eyes. "I need you to be honest here. Do you think there's something going on between Jon and T'Pol?"
She raised her eyebrows and looked away. "Would that be so much of a problem if I said yes?"
"No, I mean, we're all adults and they're my friends but I'm so close with both of them I think it would be obvious if they were-"
"Then why are you asking?"
Trip leaned back and ran his fingers through his hair. "Look, Hoshi, it's been forever since the Expanse. T'Pol and I may have been involved back then, but tragedy just seemed to follow us wherever we went. It just wasn't meant to be. We helped each other after losing Elizabeth, but sometime in the middle of leave, things just dropped off. Even now, we mostly talk about work. I know she's a very private person, so unless she's going to one of you girls, I know she's talking about the meaningful stuff with Jon."
Hoshi sighed and looked back towards him, seemingly deep in thought.
"I guess what I'm saying is...do you know the difference between loving someone and being in love with someone?"
"Of course I do. I've broken up with a lot of boyfriends because of it."
"Exactly how many is a lot?"
"Don't worry about that. It sounds like to me you need the closure of knowing she's okay, and that you'd feel a lot better if each of them knew you were fine with them pursuing each other."
"So is that a yes to my question?"
"Let me put it this way," Hoshi began, reaching for another cookie. "If there's something going on between them, I don't think even they know it yet. So be careful what you say."
Trip pulled a contemplative face. "You're right, I need to approach this carefully. Could you imagine? 'Hey, Jon, we've known each other for what, fifteen years? Just wanted to let you know that, just in case you were thinking about it, I'm fine with you going after my ex-girlfriend. Alright, catch you later buddy!'"
She laughed. "Maybe go with a little more subtle approach."
"Alright, how about this? 'Hey Jon, if you could spend the rest of your life with one of our non-human crew members, who would it be?'"
"That's perfect. I bet he'd choose Phlox."
"Phlox?"
"Of course. He's like a giant teddy bear and is also probably the happiest person I've ever met. He'll probably have to fist fight Liz over him though."
"Now that's a mental image I won't be able to get out of my head."
"Senior officers fight club?"
"Depends on how bad the mission gets. We might get to that," he acquiesced, and they both laughed.
"I want you to pull my father's service records and tell me everything you know about him," T'Pol demanded, pacing around the room as T'Pau had done earlier in the day.
The assembled Vulcans looked back at her with perfectly even expressions, not daring to react even to her emotional plea. To Archer, this seemed like the most damning part.
"You're going to have to be more specific," Soval said, still blinking the sleep from his eyes.
She stopped in her tracks and reversed course around the table, coming to stand directly beside him. Leaning down, she ground out, slowly, dangerously, "One more time, I want you to tell me about how you served with him for longer than I've been alive, how he was a good and honorable defender of the Vulcan way, how you didn't know that he was a Romulan sleeper agent."
Soval appeared conflicted, his gaze flitting between T'Pau and Kuvak. Archer even thought he saw the Minister shake her head, but he forged on. "I didn't know until you were fifteen. Your mother came to me, knowing we'd been colleagues for years. She was afraid for your safety. I helped her make his murder look like an accident. I had security monitoring your home for years. I ensured your admittance into the Security Directorate. I made you one of my aides and brought you to Earth. I looked after you the best I could."
"And yet you never told me the truth," she whispered, taking a big step back.
"What good would that have done?" T'Pau asked, her tone dripping with reproach. "Do you think you would still have your command if Starfleet knew you were half Romulan?"
It wasn't the first time Archer had seen pure rage in her eyes, but he was certain it wouldn't be the last. "How many are there like me?"
They all seemed to avoid eye contact with her. Finally, Dr. Yuris answered, "We've identified over one hundred in the service, over half of whom were unaware of their lineage."
"And the others?"
"They were sleeper agents themselves. Many have escaped Vulcan," he admitted.
She seemed to think about this for a long moment, drifting in his direction. Finally she clapped a hand down on Yuris's shoulder. "Show me."
He wordlessly attended to her request, activating the view screen, which was the only light in the otherwise dark room. Referring to a blood sample dated 2148, he said, "Since you are only half Romulan, the differences are not apparent unless you know where to look, but they are there."
Illusions and dreams she could brush aside, but there was no arguing with science. Now that it was all laid out before her in numbers and figures, it made it all that more real.
T'Pol sat down, propping her elbows on the table and covering her face with her hands. It was a hopeless, deferential gesture, conveying the utter devastation of a life forever changed.
When she finally spoke again, it was directed at Administrator Kuvak: "This man-this Solan-asked me to assist in the reunification effort between our two worlds. I believe this has been the Romulans' goal in replacing V'Las and suppressing the Kir'Shara. They nearly destabilized the entire region, turning the members of our alliance against one another, to that end. We must act preemptively to bring all of the other hybrids into the fold and keep them away from the Tal Shiar's influence."
"I tend to agree, Captain. We've stationed a great deal of them planetside where they can be monitored, but a trusted few were placed in command of our warships. Each of them have reported similar vivid visions, dreams, hallucinations-these visitations come in all forms, from people claiming to be all manners of familial relations," he replied, "Though we certainly cannot rule out the possibility that you have become a personal target of a highly violent personal relation. We must urge you to exercise caution as your mission continues."
"We believe they've employed the use of newly developed neural telepresence units that allow them to invade the dreams and waking moments of whomever they choose. I suspect it is similar to the technology they use to pilot the drone vessels, though it is unclear if they're accomplishing this on their own or through subjugating another telepathic species," Dr. Yuris explained.
"And how many know of what we've discussed here?"
T'Pau crossed her arms. "Everyone in this room, the hybrids we've placed in command, and I suspect everyone currently eavesdropping in the hall."
Archer froze. He knew full well how fast word traveled on a starship. For their own good, he needed to get out there and have a well-intentioned conversation with his officers about discretion.
T'Pol was well ahead of him. Before he could react, she stood and rushed towards the door, pushing it open and nearly bowling over Ensign Taxa.
Once the door closed, the room was once again plunged into darkness. One by one, the Vulcan contingent began to stand, except for the Ambassador.
Soval pinned Archer down under his gaze. "I need your word that you will not tell Starfleet Command about what has transpired tonight."
"Ambassador, I-"
"I simply cannot overstate it. The state of peace in this sector of space depends on it."
Two days later, the away team returned from the surface late at night. They were all bone tired, save for Lieutenant Kov, who seemed to have indefatigable enthusiasm coupled with an endless supply of energy. Ensign Singh had offered to show him his quarters and they'd moved off together, shuffling towards the commissioned officers block on B Deck.
As they entered the turbolift, T'Pol said, "Ensign, I know I can trust your discretion moving forward. You must not breathe a word of this to anyone."
They had been fortunate that only Alira seemed to have gathered enough information to put all the pieces together.
She inhaled sharply, turning to face them. "Captain, you should not doubt my dedication to this mission. I would gladly lay down my life for either of you, no matter the situation, no matter what species you are. Your secret is absolutely safe with me."
They waited until she'd exited the lift, then continued down the corridor. Soon they were in front of her quarters, and she was asking him to come in.
Archer accepted the invitation with trepidation, knowing full well that neither of them had slept a wink since that first night and emotions were running high. As he watched, she sat down on her bunk and heaved an enormous sigh.
"So what do you think of Kov?" He asked, seeking to fill the massive silence between them.
"I think he shall be a little less enthusiastic once Commander Tucker has forced him to clean plasma conduits for an entire week," she replied, rotating her body to lay down on her back.
He smiled. It was a rite of passage, a notorious first assignment for all new engineering crewmen. "I think he'll fit in just fine."
Slowly, as if gauging her comfort level, he approached her desk and sat down. "I know a lot has changed over the past few days, but I wanted you to know that I've never once doubted where your loyalties lie."
Her loyalties lay with him, forever and always. They'd discussed it in detail, and come to a mutual understanding.
"When Solan invaded my dreams, I wanted to believe he was a fraud. I wanted to believe it was a nightmare."
"And now?"
"I know him to be real. I am putting the entire fleet in danger with my commission. My half-brother is going to come after us, and he is going to try to destroy us."
Archer shivered involuntarily, but he chalked it up to the lateness of the hour. "That's not true. Minister T'Pau and the others are working to locate him and neutralize the threat. You're not endangering Enterprise by serving on it any more than I am."
She angled her chin down to look at him. "How do you know?"
"I suppose I don't," he admitted, standing up. "But we've gotten ourselves out of worse scrapes before."
He was about to bid her goodnight when her hand shot out and grabbed his arm. "Jonathan, could you stay here tonight?"
Truth be told, that was all he wanted to do. Truth be told, he just wanted to curl up next to her and hold her close and make sure she never had any reason to fear again. Truth be told…
"You know I can't do that, T'Pol." They'd talked about this. They had an agreement.
"Just until I fall asleep."
Suddenly, he understood. "You're afraid of him coming to you in your sleep."
She didn't confirm it. She didn't have to. Archer wheeled her desk chair over, dimming the lights as he did so. He sat right by her bedside, and, after searching her expression for any objection, took her hand in his.
After some time, she gently squeezed his hand, carefully intertwining their fingers. "While we were in the Forge, my mother told me she had joined the Syrrannites for my benefit. I believe I finally understand."
T'Pol would wake up sometime later from a mercifully dreamless sleep and discover that he was gone. She wouldn't know how he'd watched her breathing slow, how he'd taken her hand and kissed her palm, how he'd gone to painstaking difficulty to slip out without waking her.
She wouldn't know how long it would be until the hybrids who had defected resurfaced, or how much damage they would do when they found them.
But she knew they had to be ready.
It was nearly 0500 when Archer left her quarters, and he was exhausted. It was some comfort knowing that his own bed was just half a deck and a couple minutes away. Shouldering his overnight bag, he began to shuffle in that direction, half asleep on his feet.
"Jon!" Someone called out from behind him, catching up with him in an instant. It was Trip, their resident insomniac, not looking like he'd slept a wink either.
"Trip," he said, "How were things while we were gone?"
"Things. Things were good," he affirmed. "Fancy seeing you up at this hour. I figured yall would wait until the morning to come back. How is she?"
"The Captain?"
"Who else?"
Archer took one more step and stopped, turning to face him. "What do you mean? What have you heard?" He asked, insistent.
Fear and confusion dashed across his face in rapid succession. "What do you mean? I was just wondering how the mission went."
Of course. His exhaustion was really playing tricks on his mind. He started to walk once again. "Oh, you know the Vulcans. Stubborn as always."
He chuckled. "Right. Speaking of the Vulcans, I just wanted to say-"
"Can this wait until the morning?" Archer asked, for they'd just arrived in front of his quarters. He could guess where Trip's line of thinking was going, and he certainly wasn't prepared to answer questions of that nature until he was sure his head was once again firmly back on his shoulders.
His expression fell. "Of course, sir. Goodnight."
He scarcely got the words out before the door closed in his face. Trip stood there at the threshold for a couple of seconds, trying to process what had just happened. Finally, he turned and retreated down the hall.
There was a message he needed to send to Hoshi.
End of Episode Three
Next time on Enterprise...
Episode Four: Sevarin
The Enterprise receives an invitation from Shran that they can't refuse, and Ensign Singh gets a piece of the action. Trip and T'Pol finally have a very long overdue conversation.