—Chapter 21—
The Hyde-Wilkins industrial Park was quite impressive for a civilian facility. Eighty-six miles wide by a hundred-ten miles long, the facility bustled with activity twenty-four hours a day, and given the thousands of delivery trucks it was not difficult for the Vulcan security detail to secure a truck for their insertion to the Tri-Gen Labs building. It was here that Ke'Relle had found employment using false identity papers and credentials and it was here that the Vulcans came, driving to the rear of the building where deliveries were customarily made. The truck they were using was a genuine truck from a registered delivery company, the uniforms they wore were genuine, their weapons were concealed in shipping boxes, but the sharp eye would make these men out for what they were. Their stance betrayed them, the quiet way they watched everything, the way they subconsciously moved as a unit, the almost unseen visual reference to a leader.
The primary plan was for the Vulcans to find Ke'Relle, get close to her, stun her with an electric stun gun, which lacked the tell tale whine of a phaser pistol, and then get her out of there and to a Vulcan safe-house where the interrogation would begin. Much of what was good about Ke'Relle would die there, or be severely reduced when her mind was broken by the Vulcan mind-hackers, for no genuine mind-priest would ever purposefully destroy a mind. It was anathema to them. If that plan was not workable for any reason, Trip would approach Ke'Relle acting as if simply there on StarFleet business. He would make small talk with Ke'Relle and wait for the right moment to stun her, and then call in the Vulcans. Lastly, the backup plan if all else failed and Ke'Relle was alert and prepared to run or defend herself, Trip would try to talk her into surrendering. Barring that surrender, the Vulcans would come and kill her.
Three wonderful plans and Trip hated them all. He was not blind to the fact that Ke'Relle had murdered three men, but he knew security forces made deals with criminals all the time for information, and if these Vulcans extracted that information from Ke'Relle and left her with the mind of a child, well that woman wouldn't be the same one that killed those men, in a very real way. To be fair, Trip knew it was a stupid attempt to rescue something, anything, from this ugly mess, but Trip had always hated waste.
"We're headed for the thirtieth floor," said Tumak. "Stay close to me, Commander Tucker. I still suspect that—"
The PA system interrupted Tumak's monologue.
"Attention, attention, StarFleet personnel. Commander Tucker please report to section C11 at your convenience. I hope you have some bread pudding for me."
Malcolm looked at Trip, and Tumak said, "Is that her?"
"Yes," said Malcolm.
"Damn it," said Tumak. "How the hell… She knows we are here. We go with the backup plan, Commander Tucker. Let's see how convincing you can be."
Trip spun on his heels, moved to the elevators, and once inside one, pressed the button for C11.
"Let's go, Mallok," said Tumak, speaking to the team's sniper. "Report."
"C11 is three story indoor park," said Mallok, studying the schematic. "Trees, plants, even birds due to an open ceiling all the way to the roof. But there's no shot."
"What do you mean there's no shot? There are plants, which means they need sunlight and that means windows."
"No, Tumak. The park is in the middle of the building. They bounce light into it from the outside using a system of mirrors. A shot will never make the corners."
"Damn," said Tumak. "Entry points?"
"More bad news. One way in, one way out, through the elevators."
Everyone knew what that meant. This Ke'Relle would be waiting for them with a sniper rifle, shooting from cover or concealment. The entire team could get slaughtered if she was a good shot. Same thing would happen if they dropped in from the roof."
"Clever bitch," said Mallok.
"Yes, but she's bad news for us," said Tumak.
Trip stepped from the elevator, heart racing. He looked around what seemed to be an unusual, but attractive park. Hell of an architect he thought, trying not to think of what would happen if he failed here. A whistle and a wave from the second story drew his notice and Trip moved quickly in that direction, to come shortly on a patch of grass on which Ke'Relle was seated. Contrary to expectations Trip saw no weapons in sight.
"Trip!" said Ke'Relle, rising to embrace the Commander. "It's so wonderful to see you."
"I'd say the same, Ke'Relle, in different circumstances. They say you've killed three people."
"That they know of," said Ke'Relle. "Actually it's more like a baker's dozen."
"Wonderful," said Trip.
"Come," she said, kneeling gracefully on the grass. "I have a thermos of tea for us to share. How is T'Pol?"
"She was fine the last time I saw her."
"She is a nice enough person, Trip, but I can't see how an emotional man like you ended up with a bloodless Vulcan. I would have been a much better match for you, in different circumstances."
"You're a Vulcan too, Ke'Relle. Save some minor mutations, your genetic code is Vulcan, even if you call yourself a Happa."
"A human's genome is almost identical to that of some of your monkeys, or apes, I forget which," said Ke'Relle. "Even minor mutations can make a big difference, no?"
"Sure, I guess."
"Besides that Happa business is nothing but a gambit," said Ke'Relle, "although the men in charge do hope to profit by it one day."
"Care to tell me how?"
"Not so long as Earth is allied to Vulcan."
"Why do you hate your planet so?"
"It's not my planet, Trip."
"Ok, why do hate Vulcan so?"
"Would you really like to know?"
"I would, Ke'Relle."
"I'll tell you, if you promise not to share that information with anyone. I will not give you any tactical information, so there will be no conflict between your promise and your duty to StarFleet."
"Tell me, Ke'Relle. I promise never to reveal what you say to anyone."
"Not even T'Pol?"
"No one, Ke'Relle."
Ke'Relle nodded, satisfied that Trip would keep his promise, and said, "What do you know of the Old Vulcan?"
"Your people lived spread out across the face of Vulcan in large tribes," said Trip. "Given your uncontrolled passions, warfare was common and the planet was awash in blood, but due to your primitive weapons the damage you caused each other, and the planet, was limited. As you progressed technologically and then cracked the atom, your wars became progressively more destructive. I believe you almost wiped yourself out at several points in your history."
"Essentially correct, Trip. And how did that useless shit, Surak, change all this?"
"He preached his way of logic and controlled emotions as a remedy for the warlike passions of your people. In a remarkably short time span of mere decades, your people adopted his teachings, and logic became a way of life on Vulcan."
"Close, Trip, but the truth is that about ten percent of the Vulcan population refused to surrender their passions, their traditions and even their wars and departed the planet in disgust at what it was becoming. We went in search of a new homeworld where our ways could continue as they had from time immemorial."
"How is it that you did not kill yourselves off, Ke'Relle?"
"Through discipline, Trip," said Ke'Relle. "We called ourselves Rihansu by then, and we kept everything that we were before and added more through discipline, and then we named the Vulcans traitors to their heritage, and named them our enemies."
"That's interesting, Ke'Relle, but it doesn't help us here. I made a deal for you. It's not a great deal, but you get your life and you get your freedom."
"I'm not interested in a deal, Trip."
"Would you at least listen to it?"
"If you like."
"If you surrender now, the Vulcans will interrogate you, and I won't lie. They intend to hobble your mind, which will effectively give you the intellect of a child."
"That 'deal' does not appeal to me, Trip. No offense to you, I'm sure you did your best and I'm surprised they even offered something like that."
"The second part of the deal is they release you into the custody of my family on Earth. I have a large family, Ke'Relle and they'd watch out for you, protect you and love you. Yes, you'd be fragile and dependent, and you wouldn't be who you are now, but there are worse fates than a child's life, Ke'Relle, with a support system like that."
Ke'Relle touched Trip's forearm with gratitude, but not for her life.
"I'm touched, Trip. I am an orphan, and to my surprise, your family and the life you offer sounds wonderful," said Ke'Relle, "but even so, I am a Rihansu, bred for war. The loss of my life is not a tragedy, it is the natural course of events in the life of a warrior."
"They're gonna come for you soon, Ke'Relle, and they're going to kill you. They wouldn't even give me a weapon because the officer in charge of that squad thinks we were lovers on the Enterprise."
"How long do I have?"
Trip glanced at his watch and said, "Five minutes."
"It's a pity that you are here, Trip. My associates have planted explosives all over this building. We were not finished, but we planted enough to kill hundreds and collapse a dozen floors and start fires on almost every floor."
"Why are you doing this, Ke'Relle?
"Because Earth is allied with Vulcan."
"Well, I've always wanted to go out with a bang," said Trip, knowing there was no way to stop the act in such little time, nor evacuate the building of people.
"No, Trip. I meant it's a pity you're here because that means I can't bring this building down on the heads of those Vulcan fools, if it means I hurt you in the process. I have done more than my fair share for my cause, Trip, so if I fail here, well, I don't care. Another one of my kind will finish the task, but there's a price to be paid for withholding my wrath, and you will pay that price."
"Which is?"
"You're going to kill me."
"What?"
Ke'Relle drew a dagger from the small of her back and laid it in front of Trip, point facing her.
"I'm not gonna kill you, Ka'Relle."
"Yes, you will, Trip and in doing so you'll save hundreds of lives."
"Why, Ke'Relle? Why me?"
"I won't bore you with the meta-physical beliefs of the Rihansu, but suffice it to say, that I believe that if I offer you my life willingly and you take it, we will be lovers in the next life. My life's blood is the sacrifice and your taking of my life binds you to me so that we meet in the next life."
"I have to tell you, Ke'Relle," said Trip, "that there's a small chance that T'Pol will be my mate in the next life, and the one after, and after... So says a Vulcan named T'Avala."
"No, matter, Trip. In that case, T'Pol and I will have to share you, but I don't think you'll find such a prospect unpleasant, eh?" said Ke'Relle, flashing a sexy smile.
Trip had nothing to say. None of this seemed real and he was just stunned by the turn of recent events. Ke'Relle's spiritual beliefs were just one more variable to further screw up a situation already fucked up beyond belief.
"How much time, Trip?"
"Three minutes."
"Be careful with my hand," said Ke'Relle.
She lifted her left hand and showed Trip a marble sized bump in the palm of her hand.
"That's the detonator. It's quite fragile. I see that look in your eyes, Trip. Don't do anything foolish. Don't think of grabbing my hand. I'm stronger than you, and hundreds will die."
Trip's heart beat faster now and his breathing was ragged. He'd never killed anyone before in the course of his service with StarFleet and he'd never driven a dagger into the heart of a woman, much less a woman he considered a friend.
"Two minutes, Trip," said Ke'relle, taking up the dagger by the blade.
Trip just looked at the blade as if he was looking at a live snake.
"Take it, Trip," said Ke'Relle gently. "Take the hilt. It's ok, Trip. Take a deep breath."
Trip's mind raced and found no solution to this dilema, but one. One life, for hundreds. He grasped the hilt.
"Good, good," said Ke'Relle, moving much closer to Trip now, straddling Trip's left leg in order to place herself in the proper position. "It's ok, Trip, relax."
The entire time he'd spent with Ke'Relle on board the Enterprise flashed before Trip's eyes and this woman here was the same, and yet very different. She smiled at him, the smile he'd named 'Heart Breaker' aboard the Enterprise, as she guided the blade.
"There," said Ke'Relle, placing the dagger over heart, then releasing the blade. "Right there, Trip."
Trip sighed heavily and looked at Ke'Relle, while she looked intently back at him.
"Remember, Trip, I would be dead either way, but you're saving hundreds of lives."
Trip looked at her wide-eyed now, tears slowly dripping down his face, though he was unaware of them. He said nothing and Ke'Relle placed her hands on Trip's shoulders. A moment later she kissed away a tear from his left cheek, and then a tear from the right. Just then, the chime of the elevator's door opening triggered something in Ke'Relle.
"DO IT!" she said forcefully, and Trip thrust the dagger viciously into Ke'Relle's heart as if her words controlled his hand, the slender, double-edged blade easily sinking to the hilt: a moment later he withdrew the dagger and hot green blood stained Ke'Relle's clothing, and Trip's hands.
Ke'Relle gasped aloud, but she did not go into instant shock, as a human would have done, nor did she seem overly pained, though her grip on his shoulders tightened. The light of awareness dimmed in her eyes as she looked at Trip, but the man's tears seemed like diamonds to the Rihansu now, his face the sun, his eyes the sky. She fell slowly forward into his arms, then turned a bit to one side so that she could press herself against his body, press her face against his neck. Her left hand slid slowly from Trip's shoulder and he grasped it carefully. He felt her lips against his neck as she gave him a kiss.
"See you in the next life, Trip," she whispered. "We're going to be good together."
The Vulcan squad exited the elevator first, but it was Malcolm that spotted Trip. They all ran to reach the two, and did so quickly. One of the Vulcans reached for Ke'Relle.
"Don't touch her, mother fucker!" said Trip, furious.
The Vulcan had been taken aback for a second by the human's vehemence, but now reached for the female once again.
"There's a fragile detonator inside her left hand, you fuck!"
That Vulcan drew back and the squad's explosives expert examined Ke'Relle's device with something that resembled a large PADD device, but which emitted a very minimal energy signature when scanning, in order that it might not accidentally set off a detonator. He examined the readings, made some adjustments on his unit, and then set it down six feet from Trip and Ke'Relle.
As an engineer, Trip strongly suspected that the device had duplicated the energy signature of Ke'Relle's device and was now broadcasting that signal out, for the disruption of that signal would trigger the bombs. A moment later, that Vulcan approached Trip and gently wrapped an aluminum gauze bandage around Ke'Relle's hand.
"You did well for everyone in this building, Commander Tucker," said the explosives tech. "Such things are often unavoidable, unfortunately."
He stood then and moved to speak to Tumak. The SubCommander gave some orders then came and grabbed a handful of Ke'Relle's hair and pulled her head back, that he might see her pupils. Malcolm saw the outrage on Trip's face, and the pain in his eyes.
"Back the fuck off, now!" said Malcolm, pistol aimed at Tumak's head. "She's dead. C11 is sealed off, the scene is secured. Back off, now!"
Tumak's men all reached for one sort of weapon or another, but it was clear to them all that this Lieutenant Reed would pull the trigger no matter the consequences to himself, and there was no guarantee that they were faster than the human, so they all looked to Tumak for their cue.
"Do as he says," said Tumak, after a last dispassionate look at Ke'Relle. The human was right. She was done. "Line the perimeter."
The Vulcans fell back, Malcolm with them, in order to give Trip some privacy. They stayed there for the better part of an hour before Trip gently laid Ke'Relle down on the grass. He then drew a small penknife from his jacket and severed a lock of Ke'Relle's hair, which he then pocketed. Minutes later he walked for the elevators, red eyed and with a look of exhaustion worse than a week without sleep. He left the Vulcans and the scene behind him without a word, and Malcolm followed him.