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21

It was T'Pol, but a T'Pol who looked very different from Enterprise's sober-minded first officer. Her robe was long and flowing, of a dark, rich purple with silver emblems embroidered on the front. A thin silver band which encircled her head gave her an elegant, almost regal air. She seemed to take no notice of the two bedraggled humans on the floor, and fixated Sahriv with a haughty stare.

"I do not wish to repeat myself. Have your officer release this man, now."

Two Vulcans Malcolm had never seen before stepped up behind her. They were clad in heavy, dark green uniforms and helmets with military insignia, both holding S'Rahn class disruptors in their hands.

After a long look at T'Pol, Sahriv nodded at Skonik, who finally let go. Malcolm couldn't suppress a quiet groan; the Vulcan had gripped him hard enough to bruise, and his abdomen was still sore from T'Mai's kicks. Awkwardly, he sat up again, dimly aware that he was trembling all over. He wanted to cover his exposed private parts, but his hands were still shackled to the floor, and so all he could do was pull his knees to his chest and curl in on himself. Nausea roiled in his stomach.

"May I ask who you are?" Sahriv wanted to know, still eyeing T'Pol.

She met his eyes with an arrogant stare. "I am First Inquisitor T'Laera of the High Tribunal on Vulcan." Her tone implied that she was not used to having to introduce herself. "And to whom do I have the honor of speaking?"

"I am House Intendant Sahriv of the Noble House of Sreman. These are Officers Skonik and T'Mai of Colony Security. We are honored to welcome you in this house, First Inquisitor."

T'Pol surveyed her surroundings with disdain before her eyes returned to Sahriv. "I am certain your House is a credit to the Jahsif Colony," she said, raising a mocking eyebrow. "But I fear that I will have to decline your hospitality, House Intendant. I have merely come to retrieve something that should not have been here in the first place."

"I am afraid I do not understand." Sahriv stood stiffly, his face rigid. Her ill-concealed derision seemed to unsettle him, although he did his best to appear indifferent.

T'Pol waved a careless hand. A man Malcolm hadn't noticed until now, clad in an expensive servant's tunic, came forward and handed Sahriv a small padd. When the House Intendant took it, the man caught Malcolm's eyes as if by chance before he quickly looked away again. Malcolm blinked. The man in the servant's tunic was the Captain.

Sahriv scrolled through the information on the padd, a thin line appearing on his forehead. "An arrest warrant?"

"Indeed," T'Pol said calmly. "The two men in your custody are wanted criminals. They are responsible for the planning of several uprisings on Terra and the brutal slaughter of dozens of Vulcan settlers. Our security forces had arrested them once before, but they managed to steal a ship and escape." She raised an eyebrow. "I am... surprised that your administration paid no heed to our warnings about potentially dangerous runaways. Their descriptions were sent to all Vulcan settlements in the sector."

Sahriv seemed distinctly uncomfortable, and Malcolm remembered how the House Intendant had mocked Silak about interrogating potential rebels. T'Pol could not have picked a better scenario to put Sahriv on the defensive.

"There must have been a mistake," the House Intendant said with a side glance at T'Mai and Skonik.

"It is possible that we didn't receive the message, First Inquisitor," Skonik said respectfully. "Subspace communication isn't always reliable this far out."

"Be that as it may." T'Pol's tone implied that she found Skonik's explanation to be lacking in credibility. "These two men are on trial for high treason and murder. My orders are to take them to Vulcan so that they can be tried and punished for their crimes."

"Why don't we take care of things?" T'Mai asked, reaching for the dagger on her belt. "I'd slit their throats right here and now. It's what they deserve."

"The High Tribunal will decide what they deserve," T'Pol replied calmly. "But you would be doing these humans a favor, Officer, if you granted them the mercy of a quick death. It is not what awaits them on Vulcan."

Had he been able to do anything except sit there and tremble, Malcolm would have admired T'Pol's acting talent. Every word out of her mouth spoke of contempt, both for Sahriv and the officers and the two beaten, bleeding humans on the floor.

"They stole a communications device a team of our scientists found in the South Country," Sahriv said. "They admitted that they were going to use it to contact other rebels."

T'Pol inclined her head. "There was another group heading towards this system with a stolen ship. A patrol ship caught them a few hours ago. We believe they may have intended to infiltrate the colony and incite another rebellion."

"And we will!"

All heads turned into Trip's direction. The engineer was trying to struggle to a sitting position, his bruised face a grimace of anger and hate.

"There are more of us, and we-"

"Silence!" T'Mai crossed the room in a few quick strides, and pulled her foot back to kick him when a sharp command from T'Pol stopped her.

"Kroykah!"

The officer turned around. "He's a murderer, First Inquisitor!"

"Your lack of control does you no credit," T'Pol said coolly. "This man needs to be in good condition for the interrogations. I doubt that you want to be responsible if he dies before we have extracted all the information he may be privy to."

"We're not traitors," Malcolm said, trying to put as much contempt into his voice as he could muster. The worst of the trembling had passed, and he was able to continue in a fairly steady tone. "You can kill us right away if that's what you're hoping for."

He noticed a look of surprise on Archer's face, and suddenly realized how odd it must seem to the Captain to hear their words translated into Vulcan. Over the past months, Malcolm had become so used to the subdermal translator that he no longer even noticed it.

If T'Pol was surprised, then she hid it well. She ignored Malcolm as if he hadn't spoken at all and turned to one of the Vulcan soldiers. "The communications device may serve as evidence. Neksu..."

"Yes, First Inquisitor." The Vulcan crossed the room and began to gather up the disassembled probe, stacking the parts into a box Malcolm recognized as one of the sample containers they used for away missions. Sahriv watched, obviously not happy with the way things were proceeding.

"Far be it from me to question your orders, First Inquisitor, but I need to remind you on behalf of the Family that these two men are the property of the House of Sreman. Surely we can expect compensation..."

T'Pol waved Archer forward again. "Will two thousand lit be enough, House Intendant?"

She made the title sound like an insult rather than a respectful address.

"Of course," Sahriv replied sourly, aware of her contempt. "We thank you for your generosity, First Inquisitor."

Archer handed Sahriv several electronic currency chips. They'd come prepared for everything, Malcolm thought, the reality of what was happening beginning to sink in. They were doing it, they were getting out of here. Enterprise had received their distress signal. It was going to be okay. All of a sudden the nausea returned with a vengeance, and he found himself bent double, retching and heaving as his stomach emptied itself again and again.

"You're not so brave now, are you, pau'kaluk?" T'Mai's voice said somewhere over his head. "I hear they throw the likes of you to the le-matya after cutting off your-"

"That will be enough." T'Pol's tone was hard, and Malcolm raised his head to find the two Vulcan women facing each other with an air of quiet fury. "I do not wish to witness another one of your childish outbursts, Officer. Your behavior is a disgrace to your House."

T'Mai obviously didn't dare respond likewise, and averted her eyes. T'Pol stared at her for another moment or two before she looked at Skonik. "Release the prisoners, Officer. We shall leave presently."

"What about the third one?" Sahriv wanted to know. "He could be involved in their plans."

Malcolm exchanged a look with Trip. They couldn't leave Jackson behind to be interrogated or worse.

"He's not," the engineer interjected quickly before Malcolm had a chance to say anything. "D'you really think we went around blatherin' to fuckin' anybody about how we were gonna blow up a bunch of fucking bats?"

T'Pol turned around at that. Trip's unusually coarse language had caught her attention, as had been intended.

"A third one?" she asked Sahriv. "Do you have another rebel in your custody?"

"Possibly," the House Intendant replied. "He was often seen in their company."

T'Pol considered for a moment. "Where is this man?" she asked finally.

"In one of the holding cells outside."

"Bring him here," she ordered one of the Vulcan soldiers. "If he is a rebel, the High Tribunal will have questions for him, too. Add another thousand lit to the compensation," she said to Archer. "We'll take him with us."

"Fuck you, bitch!" Trip spat on the floor, and except for T'Pol, none of the Vulcans noticed that for a split second, he'd raised his thumb in a gesture of approval. "He's not gonna tell you anything."

Sahriv narrowed his eyes at Trip. "You will address the First Inquisitor in a respectful manner, pau'kaluk!"

"Do not trouble yourself on my account, House Intendant." T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "Disciplining these barbarians is a waste of time. I shall be content to see them handed over to the authorities on Vulcan as soon as possible."

Sahriv seemed to take the hint and nodded at Skonik. "Release them."

The Vulcan officer removed the chain from Trip's restraints before he came over to unshackle Malcolm's hands from the ringbolt in the floor. "Get up," he ordered, grabbed Malcolm's arm and pulled him to his feet. "Move!"

Very aware that he was naked from the waist down, Malcolm tried to cover himself with his bound hands. His abused ribs ached fiercely, as did his bruised jaw, and he knew that his modesty was the least of his current worries, yet he couldn't help the embarrassment that warmed his face.

T'Pol had noticed. She nodded at Archer, who removed the long-sleeved jacket he wore over his tunic and proceeded to tie it around Malcolm's waist. Malcolm silently nodded his thanks, receiving a quick look of sympathy in return before the Captain's face slipped back into the rigid mask of the dutiful servant.

T'Mai had watched it all with an expression of disgust. "Why do you care?" she asked T'Pol. "Why protect filth like that?"

"I am not protecting anyone," T'Pol replied calmly. "But I, for my part, do not enjoy gazing at naked humans."

T'Mai flushed angrily at the implied insult and turned away. In the meantime, Skonik had pulled Trip to his feet. The engineer was hardly able to stand on his own, his knees giving way as he attempted to take a step forward. Archer was at his side in an instant, supporting him. T'Mai frowned but said nothing, unwilling to risk another rebuke from T'Pol.

"First Inquisitor." The Vulcan soldier had returned, leading a struggling Jackson into the room. "The prisoner you wanted to see."

Malcolm could see that Jackson was on the verge of panic and caught the man's eyes, trying to convey to him that it was going to be all right. Jackson obviously didn't take the hint. "W-what do you want? What's-"

"Our enterprise has failed," Malcolm said, praying that Jackson would recognize the English word and not the Vulcan translation. "But our friends will take care of things."

It was fairly obvious, he had to admit, but neither Sahriv nor the officers seemed to find anything strange about his choice of words. "Your friends have been caught, you idiot," T'Mai sneered. "Didn't you listen? No one is going to help you now."

Malcolm ignored her and continued to look at Jackson, who had ceased his struggling, fear and disbelief warring on his face. "Our-our friends?"

"Yeah," Trip nodded. "You know we've got friends out there."

Jackson seemed shocked, his eyes flickering from T'Pol to Archer and back to Malcolm, but he said nothing and didn't offer any resistance when the soldier led him to the door. The other soldier, who had slung the sample box with the probe over his shoulder, waved his weapon at Malcolm.

"Go."

Malcolm obeyed. His ribs ached with every step, and he couldn't seem to stop his cuffed hands from trembling uncontrollably. It seemed unreal, unlikely, that they were actually getting out of here. Maybe all of this was happening in his head while he was still passed out on the floor, felled by a blow from Skonik's fist. Never assume. Malcolm almost laughed at that. He'd assumed entirely too much in the past, had assumed that he could protect Trip, that they were safe when they weren't. He wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

The journey down the dimly lit hallway and up the stairs was slow, with Archer carrying most of Trip's weight. Twice, the engineer stumbled and would have fallen if the Captain hadn't caught him. As they left the stairs behind and stepped out into the hall, Trip swayed, his knees buckling as his strength deserted him. He collapsed in a heap on the floor, leaving smears of blood on the expensive carpet.

"Get up, you!" T'Mai reached for his arm to drag him back to his feet, but T'Pol stopped her.

"Leave him." She waved for the taller of the two soldiers to step forward. "Neksu, carry the prisoner. I do not want to waste any more time."

The Vulcan, a slender man with light brown hair, lifted Trip and hoisted him effortlessly over his shoulder. Malcolm noticed that he was taking care not to touch the engineer's cut and bruised back. As he watched, the smaller, dark-haired soldier met his eyes and inclined his head, as if trying to reassure him that he and his colleague meant no harm. Malcolm looked away.

"What is going on here?"

Malcolm turned around at the familiar voice. T'Var was coming towards them, leaning heavily on her wooden crutch as she limped down the hallway as quickly as she could.

"Where are you taking these men?"

"We've found out that they are criminals, Lady," Sahriv said. "First Inquisitor T'Laera is here to take them to Vulcan."

"First Inquisitor T'Laera?" T'Var's fierce, dark eyes narrowed to slits as she looked at T'Pol. "What have you done to them?"

"Nothing," T'Pol replied calmly. "Your House Intendant and these officers were in the process of interrogating the prisoners when the house guards directed me down to your Correction Room."

"Interrogating!" T'Var turned to Sahriv. "What is the meaning of this, House Intendant?"

"One of the kitchen slaves, Yonakh, discovered a stolen communications device in their sleeping chamber," Sahriv replied. Malcolm felt a flare of anger. Yonakh. He should have known that the man would try something. "They are rebels, Lady."

T'Var's eyes flashed cold fury. "I have told you before that we do not use torture in this house, Sahriv. You can be certain that I will discuss this incident with Lady T'Sia, and I doubt we shall be willing to keep a House Intendant who does not follow our rules. Now leave."

"Lady T'Var-"

"Leave!" She turned to Skonik and T'Mai. "You, too. Your superiors will hear from me."

Sahriv and the two officers obeyed with obvious reluctance. As soon as they were out of sight, the anger vanished from the ancient face.

"So," she said to T'Pol. "I knew you'd come."

T'Pol's eyebrows almost disappeared under her hairline. "I am afraid I do not understand."

"It's all right, Subcommander," Malcolm said. "Lady T'Var is on our side. She knows."

"Indeed I do," T'Var said. "I was monitoring the skies of the South Country when I noticed an unusual energy reading. I assume it was caused by your ship crossing the barrier."

"I hope no one else noticed," Archer said.

"I do not think so," T'Var answered. "Except for me, no one here has much interest in the phenomenon. If anyone noticed the energy reading, they will in all likelihood ignore it. I assume you are Captain Archer?"

Archer nodded, surprised. "Yes, I am."

"Malcolm and his friend have told me much about you. They never lost faith in you." She turned to T'Pol. "You must be Subcommander T'Pol."
T'Pol inclined her head. "I am honored to make your acquaintance, Lady."

"Not as honored as I am," T'Var said. "Seeing you here... I wish I could tell all of Vulcan about this. Our people and humans, working together as equals. There is a way to make it possible." She smiled a little. "But you must be on your way, not listening to an old woman's ramblings." She looked at Malcolm. "I wish you and your friend the best of luck."

Malcolm cleared his throat, not sure what to say to her. Of all the people they'd met in this place, she was the only one he would miss. "Thank you, T'Var... for everything."

"I thank you, Malcolm. Remember me, when you go to the place we talked about."

He nodded, aware that both T'Pol and Archer were eyeing him curiously. "I will. Goodbye, T'Var."

She raised her hand in the ancient greeting, her voice tinged with sadness as she answered. "Live long and prosper, my friend. Maybe, one day, we will do the same."

TBC...

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