Consequences
Rating: T+
Summary: All choices have consequences whether they be good or bad
Disclaimer: All cannon characters are owned by the Great Flanneled One, and now Disney. All Enterprise characters are owned by the Great Bird of the Galaxy. All others are mine. I make no money off this.
Note: This is a sequel to Choices
Timeline: 40BBY
Speech: " "
Training Bond communications: /
Internal thoughts: italics
Chapter Twelve
The next morning Trip found himself almost run over by the captain. Most of the time his actions he considered unusual, but with everything that's happened in the past few days, Trip wouldn't put it past him to be that occupied. "Cap'n?"
Jon's face turned grim. That wasn't a good sign at all. "Sorry," the captain looked down the corridor then back to Trip. "Our visitors are running out of time. Take Reed and anyone you need to get that ship's engines running."
"The database?"
"Yeah."
"I'm already on my way, sir," Trip nodded then waited as Jon continued in the direction he started, then continued towards his original destination. Just as he reached the door, it opened revealing a very tired looking Qui-Gon.
"Are you okay?" Trip asked as he entered the cabin. On the bed Obi-Wan was curled up on his side with his back facing the door. He turned back to Qui-Gon who now sank into an available chair.
"Obi-Wan had a rough night."
Trip winced as he watched Qui-Gon rub his forehead. "Ouch." He paused, "Although I do hate to tell you this, but the Captain told me that you're running out of time. I need to get that engine up and running as of yesterday. That means I'm going to have to have Obi-Wan there so he can tell me how I can fix it. I don't want to go fishing around, not knowing if I've done the right thing or not."
Qui-Gon closed his eyes, then rose from the chair. "It should only be a little bit," he said as he went over to the bed and gently turned Obi-Wan over. Even from his vantage point, he could see the exhaustion on Obi-Wan's face. Gathering the clothing he needed, Qui-Gon picked him up and carried him over to the bathroom for at least some privacy.
Not knowing how long he had, Trip went over to the communications console and keyed in Mal's comm number. "Lt. Reed," came the answer.
"Mal, I need you to come back to the hanger. I have to get that transport up and running as of now."
"Wait. You do understand I have my regular duties."
Trip could easily hear the irritation in his friend's voice. "I know, but the Cap'n said I could call on anyone for help."
"All right."
Trip didn't need to be there to know that Mal's eyes had rolled accompanied by a mental sigh.
"Where are you?"
"I'm getting Obi-Wan right now." Trip looked over at the door that lead into the small bathroom. "I'll see you there shortly." By the time he disconnected the line, Qui-Gon reemerged with a fully clothed Obi-Wan. He stood. "I called Mal…Lt. Reed. He'll be there, too."
Once Obi-Wan was settled into the chair they headed down to the disabled ship, but not before stopping at the mess for a quick breakfast. Once they set foot inside the hanger, they found Malcolm already there. After a quick discussion everyone agreed on the need for speed, but accuracy at the same time. No word was was needed as they approached the hatch.
When several individuals appeared as if they were transported it was a surprise, but not as much of one than with Qui-Gon. He reached out his hand and the door to the armory opened and that cylindrical object that Malcolm had recently placed in it, flew as if it was under its own power into Qui-Gon's hand. There was a snap-hiss and a blade of green energy emerged from what turned out to be a sword hilt.
"Watch out," Reed called from somewhere nearby. Looking over, the Brit had made it over to the armory closet and retrieved several phasers, then closed it and ducked behind some machinery while firing. Trip managed to make it over to his position and took one of the phasers while nodding to Mal. He then tried to work his way around to the other side of the transport.
Another humanoid appeared close to Obi-Wan. Before Qui-Gon could react, Obi-Wan attempted to stand, but was sent flying across the room, as if given a Force push, only to hit the bulkhead full force with a sicking thud, then slid down to the floor, unmoving.
Instead of rushing over, which Trip expected, Qui-Gon turned his full attention to their intruders with his blade now at the ready. It was obvious that he spent years of practice with whatever it was that he held in his hand. What was not expected was Qui-Gon's ability to block the phaser fire. Although instead of it bouncing back, it was absorbed into the energy blade itself. Trip shook himself out of his surprise and began firing at the ones who had their sole attention on Qui-Gon. A voice came over the intercom, but he was too busy to pay any attention to it.
When it was obvious that they had gained the upper-hand, the humanoids disappeared in a flash. The electric humming that sounded throughout the hanger stopped and Qui-Gon was already moving over to Obi-Wan. As soon as he reached him, he knelt down and pressed both hands against Obi-Wan's head. Releasing him, Obi-Wan began shuddering.
After handing his phaser back to Malcolm, Trip went over to the two Jedi. Just by Qui-Gon's body language alone, he had a pretty good idea that things were not going well for Obi-Wan. In fact, he was probably worse off considering what just happened to him. "Qui-Gon?"
The Jedi turned to look back at Trip for a moment. "He is still alive."
"Go." Trip pointed to the door. "Don't worry about your ship, just go."
Qui-Gon nodded. "Thank you, Commander." He stood and was out the door, carrying Obi-Wan, towards sickbay.
As the door closed, he turned back to Malcolm, who was now approaching. "Is Obi-Wan all right?" he asked.
Trip shook his head. "I don't know. Was that the captain?"
"Yes. It appears the Sulabon came out of warp and caught us completely unaware."
Looking at the ship, Trip went over and began examining the hull. "Mal, they want this ship. Maybe even more than the one from the future." He turned around to see Malcolm going back over to the communications.
"I'll feel much better if we had security here." Malcolm activated it, and sent his orders out. When finished he turned back around, a thoughtful look on his face.
"What are you thinking?" although Trip had a very good idea what it was. He let his finger trace across a new scoring mark. Pulling it away, he looked at the carbon that had transfered his finger.
"Did you see that weapon Qui-Gon used? I've never seen anything like it before." Malcolm shook his head.
Trip hesitated then rolled his thumb and index finger together spreading the carbon. "Yes, I did. I also remember Qui-Gon mentioning that it takes a great deal of time to master. Now I understand what he meant." He stopped when Malcolm turned and moved towards the hanger doorway. "Where are you going?"
Just as he reached the entrance, Reed stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Qui-Gon never did put it back into the closet." Turning, he folded his arms. "Now that I know what that weapon can do, I don't want it in a place where anyone could get to it. If it could absorb phaser fire, no telling what it could do against metal, or another person."
Malcolm Reed remained in the hanger until security arrived before heading to sickbay. On the way he couldn't help but go over and over in his mind what he just saw. Like everyone there, including the Sulabon, he froze in shock before his training kicked in or he would probably be dead by now. Then to top it off, he made his obvious weapon fly through space. Only when things had calmed down did he go and check on Obi-Wan. It was as if the younger man's condition had taken a back seat to the importance of the technology that their transport held. Malcolm had many questions he needed, or at least wanted, to ask Qui-Gon the next time he saw him.
Now standing outside sickbay, but not close enough to trigger the doors to open, he watched through the clear door as Phlox and Qui-Gon argued, at least that's what it looked like to him from where he was at. Compared to Qui-Gon's actions in the hanger, he was now acting like a guardian. Qui-Gon's ever present cloak shifted and Malcolm spotted the weapon. At least he still has it. He knew he had to get it back sooner rather than later. Taking a step closer, the door finally sensed his presence and opened, allowing him entrance.
"Legally, Qui-Gon, I can perform surgery with our without your permission."
Qui-Gon balled his fists, then relaxed his hands before folding his arms. "But you will not. He maybe considered a legal adult outside the world of the Jedi, but I am still his guardian. Until he finishes his training, he is considered a minor and I am his teacher."
Surprise washed over Malcolm. He had no idea that Obi-Wan was considered a minor.
"Plus," Qui-Gon continued, "I have no idea how the Mind Healers will be able to handle and repair the type of brain surgery you suggested."
"Do you know what you're suggesting?" Phlox pointed to the bio-bed Obi-Wan was currently resting on. "He will live the rest of his life like this. At least the surgery will relieve the seizures."
"That is where you're wrong, Healer." Qui-Gon turned to look at Reed. He nodded then brought his full, at least it looked like it, attention back to Phlox. "I want him healed as much as you do."
"But what if you don't make it back? What then?"
"Only then will I consider your offer."
Phlox frowned while shaking his head before moving away. "All right."
Thinking that the argument had ended, Malcolm moved slowly over to the bio-bed Qui-Gon was now standing beside. After the heated exchange he looked to be at complete peace with himself and all the events that had just played out. For a moment the larger man reminded him of T'Pol. Shaking off the odd feeling, he took another step and raised an open hand. "Qui-Gon."
The Jedi furrowed his brow, not entirely sure what was being asked of him. Eventually he followed Malcolm's gaze towards the weapon hanging on his belt. Only at that point did he understand what was being asked of him. Qui-Gon turned his attention back to Malcolm and shook his head. "No."
"Qui-Gon."
"I cannot do what you ask of me. I had assumed that this ship was secure, but with what just happened it has changed my mind."
"I cannot have you carrying a weapon around the ship without any prior authorization."
Qui-Gon shook his head.
"Listen, I don't want that to fall into anyone else's hand, especially the Sulabon."
"Lieutenant, I promise you, that will not happen under my watch."
The door to the sickbay opened again, and Travis Mayweather appeared. "Sir," he came up to Malcolm. It was obvious that the ensign remained more than a respectful distance away from Qui-Gon.
"Yes, Ensign?"
Travis opened his mouth to say something when the door opened again. This time the captain entered with an annoyed look on his face. Qui-Gon went over to Jon. "Do not have them disciplined. It was my fault that kept either from returning to their duties after what happened in the hanger."
Jon's eyes strayed down to Qui-Gon's waist, then looked back up, both eyebrows raised in an obvious question, then went back to Malcolm. "Any reason why?"
"Qui-Gon would not return his weapon to me."
"And?" This time Jon folded his arms.
"A Jedi is required to carry his or her weapon at all times, for it could be the difference between life or death."
It was obvious that the Captain was debating on how to respond to the question. "The Sulabon want your ship," he finally capitulated. "As of right now they're waiting."
Following the Captain out of sickbay, Qui-Gon eventually found himself in the command center of the starship. The captain had called it the bridge. It was small, and compact, like the rest of the ship. That's not what drew his attention. What did was the the large screen on the far wall, rather it was what was on it at the moment. In the bottom corner was the planet they were currently orbiting, the rest of the inky blackness was filled with ships of no known configuration to him.
Stepping down into the center section, Jon reached the chair and sat down. "Those," he looked over his shoulder to Qui-Gon, "are Sulabon ships." He turned around the other way, "Ensign, anything?"
"No, sir. Nothing."
Qui-Gon let his eyes sweep over to Hoshi and then back to the screen. Shifting into a more comfortable position, he slipped his hands into the sleeves of his opposing arms.
"They sent that little 'welcoming committee' for your ship." Jon sat back and rubbed his forehead with his fingers. "I'm going to have to do something soon. As of right now we're completely surrounded. Qui-Gon," he looked back to the Jedi, "They want your ship, especially the engine."
"Who are these Sulabon?" Qui-Gon turned his full attention to the smaller man as he rose from his seat and began pacing back and forth.
Jon stopped, then started back up again, "It's difficult to explain. They're from this galaxy, but they take orders from the future, a future that doesn't have your kind of engine. And I want to keep it that way."
"Does your engineer know how long it will take for him to repair it?" Qui-Gon's eyes roamed around the room, taking in its different aspects before settling them back on the captain.
Jon stopped for a moment, then sat back down. "He doesn't think it'll take that much longer, maybe a day at most if he's not interrupted."
"Good." Qui-Gon nodded.
"You do understand, Qui-Gon, that the moment they see your transport, they're going to use their tractor beam to try and capture it."
"Not if we're in the process of jumping into hyperspace."
"Mr. Mayweather," Jon called to the ensign who had appeared in sickbay shortly before the captain.
"Yes, sir?" Travis turned around.
"Can a ship be stopped while in the process of going to warp?"
Travis thought about the question for a few moments. "I think it depends on how early the ship is captured by a tractor beam."
"He is correct."
Everyone turned their attention to T'Pol. She continued, "A tractor beam will not be able to stop a ship once the correct amount of momentum has been attained."
Jon nodded. "That sounds like the ship with the tractor beam would be pulled into warp if that happens. It's also very dangerous."
"I think I know what needs to happen," Qui-Gon spoke to no one in particular. He closed his eyes and traveled down the training bond back to Obi-Wan. He was still worried, but relieved at the same time because he was beginning to wake up, but his actions were odd. He turned back to Jon, "If you will excuse me. I would like to go back to sickbay." Qui-Gon could feel the beginnings of another seizure.
"Of course." Jon nodded towards the turbolift.
Qui-Gon turned and took the few steps up to the lift, though he could feel Lt. Reed watching him. Using the Force Qui-Gon tried sending a message to the officer, at the same time he wasn't sure if he was successful or not. I'm sorry, Lieutenant, I cannot do what you've asked. He never saw the officer furrow his brow in apparent confusion while he shook his head.
TBC…