T'Phol came to slowly as awareness seeped into her consciousness in stages. She heard voices murmuring in the background, but the words were garbled. Trying to understand was taxing, so she let her mind drift on some unknown plane, an empty and disquieting place with a sense of peril lurking ominously at the edge just beyond her reach.

She noted she was in some pain, and focused on the sensation, a concrete reality in the hazy landscape of her perception. Gradually her thoughts began to clear and she remembered being attacked on the road. Like the first to fall in a chain of dominoes, suddenly everything clicked back into her memory. She gasped and tried to open her eyes, but the lids were heavy, her vision blurred.

"Ah, you're coming around. Don't try to sit up yet. You've been unconscious quite a while."

T'Phol peered through swollen lids, making out a indistinct face hovering above her. She tried to speak, but her mouth felt like sandpaper and her tongue wouldn't cooperate. She felt a hand under her shoulders, lifting her head a bit, and a glass pressing against her lips.

"This is water, take a little sip."

The liquid bathed her mouth in welcome coolness. She would have gulped the entire glass, but it was removed after a few sips. She licked her lips as the hand lowered her head and withdrew. She blinked as the room began to come into focus.

The space had the nondescript look of a standard quick-build Federation Quonset hut. She could see a cot and a desk holding computer equipment. The floating face was attached to a Human male who appeared to be in his fifties, with short salt and pepper hair and a trimmed beard. The smile lines etched into his face did not look cruel.

She coughed, prompting the man to give her another drink. She tested her voice, finding she was able to speak again.

"Where am I? Who are you?"

"My name is Vincent Thompson. You are in a secret installation on Aminta. You are safe, no one here will harm you."

"Safe? As a hostage?" Anger coursed through T'Phol and she struggled to rise. Thompson reached to assist, but she jerked her arm away. He sat back, watching calmly as she managed to sit. She grimaced through dry and swollen lips, glaring at him, weakly. "I am going to vomit."

He handed her a waste basket, then wordlessly went to empty it when she was finished, returning with a glass of juice and some crackers and nutrition bars. He placed them on the desk beside her. She looked at them without touching.

"You had an adverse reaction to the drug you were given. I am sorry you are suffering. Eating may hasten your recovery."

"Are you working with Peggy? Where is he? He poisoned me."

Thompson frowned. "That was unfortunate. He did not intend to harm you."

"Why am I here? What do you want from me? Is Doctor McCoy here, too?"

Thompson held up a hand, almost smiling. "I will tell you what I can shortly. Please try to eat a little, it will help you feel better. I have a task I must finish." He turned to the computer. T'Phol briefly wondered if she could overpower him and escape. There were doors at both ends of the room. One was slightly ajar, leading to another room. She thought the other might open to the outside. She glanced around the room, considering objects that she might use as a weapon.

"Vince?" The door swung open, a large man filling the frame.

Thompson looked up from his screen. "Yeah, Mike?"

"There's a comm on the private channel you need to see."

Thompson rose from his seat. "Thanks. I'll go check it now."

Mike nodded, stepping into the room as Thompson left. He picked up a nutrition bar and unwrapped it, taking a bite as he leaned against the wall, regarding T'Phol closely. He shook his head. "You're awake finally. You were out for a long time, almost five hours. You've had a rough night."

"Yes. Being poisoned and kidnapped is not a pleasant experience."

"I'm sure it isn't." He gestured to the juice and crackers, still sitting untouched. "No one here wants to harm you. Your food is not tainted. You have my word."

"A promise from the mouth of a kidnapper would seem to be of dubious value."

Mike sighed. "Technically, I did not physically asport you, but I see your point."

"Then am I free to go?"

"I'm sorry. No."

Thompson stuck his head around the door. "Mike, a word, please."

The two men conferred for a moment just outside the door, their voices too low for T'Phol to make out any words, then Thompson returned to the room alone. He pulled the chair closer to her cot and sat, looking grave.

"I know you have questions, but unfolding events have severely limited my time. I am sorry you're here. Your presence creates a dilemma for my group. I realize this is a situation you didn't choose. Still, here we are."

T'Phol stared. "You were not involved in my abduction?"

Thompson harrumphed, a short humorless bark.

"No. This was all Peg Teal. He is undeniably brilliant, a little deranged. Abducting you was reckless and unlawful, and certainly not sanctioned by anyone here. I had no idea what he was doing until his Rigelian assistant showed up with you bound hand and foot and unconscious." His mouth thinned. "His motives are his own, but whatever he hoped to accomplish will come to naught. It's too bad, this fiasco will end his career."

"Our physician is also missing. Is Peggy responsible for that as well?"

Thompson's visage darkened. "No." He stood, stretching his shoulders, suddenly looking weary. "I am in the unenviable position of putting the fox in charge of the hen house."

"I do not understand."

"Events are beginning to unfold that require my team's attention. Teal has left Site Three and will be here in less than an hour." He paused. "I had some hard words with him earlier. He truly had no intention of making you ill, claims the drug he used was safe for Vulcans. At any rate, you will be able to talk to him at length. You and he will stay sequestered in this facility while my group is out."

T'Phol's eyes glittered. "That is unacceptable."

"Not an ideal solution, I agree. There is no time to return you to your Enterprise group. You will be as safe here as anywhere on the planet."

"What is happening on Aminta? And how are you connected?"

Thompson took a small wallet from his pocket, opening it, holding it for her to view. Inside a holographic image stared back at her alongside a silver badge.

"Federation Intelligence Division. You are a spy?"

"An agent. When Teal arrives, he will be placed under house arrest. He knows this. As soon as possible, we will return you to the Enterprise. Until that time, you will stay here under FID protection. This is a secure facility."

"What about Doctor McCoy? You know where he is."

"I do not know his precise location, but I have a good idea who took him. I don't have even an educated guess why he was taken. Our mission is classified, but Starfleet's involvement has set a chain of events into motion, I believe prematurely. This could be our break in this case after years of disappointment, getting close only to run into dead ends. This investigation encompasses a much wider scope than what is happening here on Aminta, although this planet seems to hold the key. These people are dangerous, they're playing a high stakes game and have nothing to lose." He looked sharply at T'Phol. "I don't understand what part a Starfleet surgeon could possibly play in this matter, or why Peg Teal was desperate enough to drug and abduct you, especially to bring you here. His plea of protective custody is ludicrous, and he knows it."

T'Phol almost winced, closing her eyes for a moment, her mind whirling. She opened them to find Thompson's unwavering attention focused on her, waiting, sensing the urgency behind his calm facade. She reached for the neglected drink, taking several swallows. Her hand trembled slightly as she replaced the glass carefully on the table, so she placed both hands on her knees, fingers slightly curved as if she was sitting at the piano. She took a deep breath, meeting his eyes evenly. He nodded.

"I do not know why this might be important, but the winged predators on this planet are sentient. One of them communicates with Doctor McCoy telepathically, and believes he has a foretold role in their society, one assigned two thousand years ago."

Thompson leaned forward. "Tell me more," he said quietly.

T'Phol squared her shoulders and began.