Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything, perhaps even my soul.

Rating: This chapter is tame, R mostly for drug use, alcohol use, prostitution references and general creepiness. No explicit sex in this chapter.

First thing the next morning, Captain Archer paced on the bridge. Four of his bridge officers were trapped on the station because he refused to pay bribe. It infuriated him, but he choked down the anger. It wasn't as though they weren't making good use of the time. The exterior of the ship was being painted, and Archer had ordered some readjustments of the phase canons that could be performed while they were still under this ridiculous quarantine. In the meantime, he ordered a light duty schedule for the crew who were stuck onboard.

"Travis," he said, "join me in the Captain's mess for breakfast?"

"Yes, sir," said Travis, who always enjoyed the special food served during his meals with the captain.

Soon, the two were dining on eggs benedict. Archer also ordered up a pitcher of bloody marys to go with the breakfast.

"Sir," said Travis, "Aren't we on duty?"

"Not thanks to the harbor master," he said as he poured Travis a glass.

"Have you heard from the away team?" asked Travis.

"T'Pol checked in this morning. Hoshi found them all digs in the most respectable place on that station. The team is going to spend the day doing more recon around the station. Perhaps this fiasco is a blessing in disguise. The more information we have heading over to the Romulan mining planet, the better."

Travis put a generous helping of eggs benedict in his mouth and chewed slowly. When he finished, he spoke.

"I've been to dozens of stations like this. They tend to be great places to get anything you want - especially information. They are also places where it is easy to get into trouble. In fact, trouble's probably the only commodity more common than information on a station like this."

Travis continued with several long and involved anecdotes from his childhood designed to elucidate just what kind of place the station probably was. One included his father getting mugged by a trio of Tellerites, the other involved the Horizon's cargo being stolen by a non-humanoid race. Archer downed his bloody mary and tossed a piece of bacon to Porthos.

"Well," he replied, "I'm glad T'Pol's in charge. She dislikes trouble more than I do. Hopefully, she'll keep the rest of them from getting too adventurous."

****

Trip and T'Pol had breakfast in their room, over looking the planet. Again, with information from Enterprise, the hotel had managed to prepare a reasonable breakfast of both human and Vulcan origins.

"How is the coffee?" asked T'Pol.

"Not terrible," said Trip, "but I've had better. The beans for this certainly weren't grown on Earth."

They had been going over the information Trip and Malcolm had gathered the day before and were trying to determine the best use of their time for the day.

"Bottom line," said Trip, "The only thing we really need to know is what the Romulans are mining on that planet. Everything else is just . . ."

"Interference," completed T'Pol.

"If it comes to war," said Trip, "I'll wager the alliance will want to stop the Romulans from getting whatever it is they are getting from there."

"There's a reasonable chance that whatever their mining will be of military use, but it is possible that they are mining something that has limited practical value."

"Romulan blood diamonds," said Trip.

T'Pol was puzzled, as she had never heard the term.

"Before diamonds could be perfectly manufactured on earth," he continued, "they could only be mined from certain regions, usually poor regions. Rich people didn't just want them for industrial purposes, either. They were used in jewelry - like the Crown Jewels of England or the Hope Diamond. Long story short, miserable wars were fought over rocks that people thought were pretty, but when they became common suddenly they weren't so pretty anymore and the wars ended. Diamonds still have industrial uses, but they stopped signifying eternal love over a century ago."

T'Pol sipped on her tea and looked down at the planet below them.

"It is inadvisable to speculate at to the nature of the mining operation," said T'Pol, "We should be able to determine what they are mining in due course."

A ping came through on the hotel's communication system, and T'Pol brought up a message on the vid screen embedded in the table. Javon was inviting her and Trip the Vulcan section.

T'Pol thought for a moment, unsure of what the invitation meant. Was Javon just being friendly or did he have more intelligence for her?

"Javon wishes for us to join him for the afternoon meal."

"Both of us? Should we go?"

"It seems like a good use of time. He might be able to provide more information. Do you wish to come?"

Though she didn't outwardly show it, the invitation had taken T'Pol aback and piqued her curiosity. Trip sensed it.

"I've got no other plans," he said.

"You will likely be the only non-Vulcan in that section of the station."

"Wouldn't be the first time I've been the only non Vulcan somewhere with you. It'll be fine. I guess Malcolm and Hoshi will have to entertain themselves."

****

"How do you feel, Malcolm?" asked Hoshi as the water from the hot tub swirled around her aching body.

"I'm not seeing the white cocoons anymore," replied Malcolm, who sat across from her in the tub, "but my muscles still ache like hell."

The hot tub was decontaminated by a green algae rather than chlorine, so the water felt clean despite being an opaque green. Malcolm was grateful for the color, as neither of them had swimsuits and both desperately needed to soak their muscles. The water prevented either of them from seeing something that they didn't need to see just then.

"Mine, too. It must be whatever the hell that was working out of our systems," she said.

"Thank god T'Pol didn't demand to have breakfast with us this morning."

Malcolm reached up and grabbed a pastry from a tray that he had brought in from Hoshi's room. The attendant had delivered their breakfast along with their uniforms early that morning.

"Are you sure you don't want one?" asked Malcolm, gesturing to the tray.

Hoshi sipped on some juice and shook her head.

"I'm still full from last night," she replied, "I can't believe how much I ate."

"I hope we won't have to report this," said Malcolm, "but if this doesn't wear off completely, we're going to have tell T'Pol what happened."

Hoshi glanced at Malcolm. He knew she was thinking he was the biggest goody two shoes ever.

"I think we'll be fine. I don't even see colors when I close my eyes anymore. I'm just going to be tired today. Did you get any sleep at all?"

Malcolm shook his head.

No, but it sure was an interesting night."

Hoshi grinned.

"That's for sure. I kind of don't regret it. How about you?"

"Not remotely," he said, "Now, lieutenant, shut your eyes. I'm going to get out of the tub and get dressed."

"Oh you're no fun," said Hoshi, closing her eyes.

Malcolm lifted himself out of the water and quickly found a towel to wrap around himself. He didn't look back to see if Hoshi was peeking, but he hoped that she was.

****

A few hours later, Trip Tucker found himself on the strangest double date of his life, and he certainly wasn't the only non-Vulcan in the Vulcan Section. He sat in the cafe across of a Vulcan intelligence officer and his Orion girlfriend. The girlfriend wore her hair in a Vulcan style and dressed in Vulcan robes, which frankly looked absurd. It wasn't like she was fooling anyone, and Trip couldn't help but wonder what the other Vulcans on the station thought of this woman, not to mention the man who put her in those clothes.

Whatever the case, Trip already knew what the Vulcan sitting next to him thought, and he was concentrating on suppressing the bond enough so that she wouldn't realize how hilarious her reaction was to him. Despite being dressed in a human uniform and being accompanied by a human husband, T'Pol was utterly scandalized that a Vulcan would pair off with an Orion and that the Orion woman would even attempt to affect a Vulcan manner.

"Tell me, Arian, do you use your unique form of control only on Javon or do you apply it to other men on the ship?"

"Oh," she said, "I apply to anyone who strikes my fancy - men, women . . .androgynous, it's all good. But with Javon, he can block me with his mind. That's what drew me to him. I relish a challenge. Vulcans are so very challenging, don't you think so Commander Tucker? "

Trip felt her Orion pheromones as they were bouncing off his brain, as if to say "no luck here, sister." T'Pol was confident enough in the bond not to be worried, but he could tell she found the woman appalling. He found the situation so amusing that he wished the cafe served beer so he could better enjoy himself.

"Challenging in a good way," said Trip.

"So you know what I mean?' she said, playing with a strand of her inky black hair.

"Why have you asked us here, Javon?" said T'Pol, affecting the most blunt and Vulcan tone he'd heard her use in years.

"Why to be social, of course," replied Javon, "I know it isn't very Vulcan, but I believe humans enjoy socializing almost as much as Orions."

Trip looked down at the display of bland Vulcan food before him. Even the tea served at this place was boring, but at least the company was anything but boring. T'Pol, didn't believe for a moment that Javon brought them there as a friendly gesture. He didn't either. At the very least, the man was sizing them both up. Unlike Malcolm and T'Pol, Trip wasn't trained in intelligence, but he knew enough about the trade that every move anyone made was a chance to gain an advantage. But that road went both ways, and he was sizing up Javon as a master of a game whose rules he didn't know. Hell, he didn't even know what constituted winning, but he did sense that Javon was both overconfident and someone with conflicting loyalties.

Trip took a sip of his tea and resolved to have a long talk with Malcolm about spy craft. At that moment, T'Pol stood up and excused herself to the facilities. Trip wasn't certain if she really needed to go, or if she was looking for an excuse to contact the ship or take notes or something. She had become inscrutable.

"So," said Trip, "how'd you two meet?"

"Javon was a client at a business that used to employ me," said Arian.

Trip knew exactly what kind of business she meant, and so he didn't press for specifics. He looked up at Javon's serene Vulcan countenance.

Every seven years my ass, he thought.

****

T'Pol looked in the mirror of the ladies room and sighed deeply. Inadvertently, she had done the worst thing an agent could do, she had piqued the curiosity of another agent. On the other hand, the fact that Javon treated her like an asset rather than a colleague spoke volumes about the man's loyalty or, more accurately, the mutable nature of it. The man no longer did his job out of loyalty to Vulcan, of that she was sure. He was a man who never did anything unless it benefited him personally.

T'Pol composed herself. It wasn't as though she wasn't in control of the situation. She, too, had learned a great deal about him during their two encounters, and she would have quite a report to write. What she hadn't decided is if she would recommend Starfleet send it on to Vulcan Intelligence. They usually took her advice on such matters, as far she she knew.

She took a deep breath and felt her emotions drifting down to the bottom of her consciousness.

She left the ladies room and saw a young Vulcan man standing in the dark hallway.

"Good Afternoon," he said in Vulcan. His accent was peculiar, and T'Pol assumed he must have grown up on a colony rather than on Vulcan.

"Good Afternoon," she said.

"You're from the human starship," he said.

"Yes," she replied.

The young man took a step forward. He looked her up and down in a way that was terribly un-Vulcan. He definitely had been raised on a colony.

"That's a human uniform," he stated.

"Yes," she said, "Now if you'll excuse me. . ."

"You can't trust Javon. He doesn't care what happens to you," said Ston, "He doesn't want to help you."

T'Pol said nothing.

"I can help you. I want to help you."

She remained silent for a long time, looking over the young man's clothes and taking note of the unusual way carried himself. He also smelled different, for a Vulcan.

"How could you help me?"

"I know what they are mining at the Romulan colony," he blurted.

She raised an eyebrow.

"I can get you a sample of it," he said.

"Why would you do that?" she asked.

"Because someone should know what they are doing, and I don't trust Javon to give the information to the Vulcans."

"I don't work for the Vulcans," she said.

Ston walked up to her, standing very close into her personal space. There was something very wrong about him. He also seemed to know who she was, and she didn't like that this far into the frontier.

"But the people you work for - the humans, they want to know what is being mined on the Romulan planet. Wouldn't you like to give it them?"

"How do you know what they are mining?"

Ston leaned closer.

"I have sources."

"What do you want in return?"

"Nothing."

She didn't believe him.

"Just want to do my part," he said.

"When can you get this sample to me?"

"This afternoon," he said, "I can get it to you this afternoon at 5 o'clock station time. Meet me in the center of the catwalk on main observation deck. Come alone."

The young man reached up and brushed the side of T'Pol's cheek. He was not Vulcan, that she knew.

"I'll see you then," said Ston, as he slipped away.

****

"You're not even considering going alone, I hope," said Trip.

They had returned to their room and were waiting for Malcolm and Hoshi to arrive.

"I will consult Lt. Commander Reed regarding proper Starfleet protocols for such a situation," replied T'Pol.

Trip sat down on the couch by the window.

"I don't like the way this guy spooked you," replied Trip, and don't even try to deny it. You're spooked I can feel it."

She sat down next to him and leaned into an embrace, confirming just how off-put she was. He put his arms around her and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I don't believe he is a Vulcan," she said.

"You think he's a Romulan spy, then," he replied.

"No," she said, "He's not a trained spy. He was too transparent. I don't know what he is or what he wants, and that is disconcerting."

She remained quiet for a time after that, and he let the silence remain in the room. Then, they found themselves discussing the situation with the quarantine and how soon they thought they might return to the ship. Suddenly, returning to the ship felt like a very good idea to both of them. They might need to stay around the station for awhile longer, but the ship offered some measure of protection from whatever it was about this station that felt so threatening.

The chime on the door rang. T'Pol stood up and pressed the control that would allow her to see who was on the other side of the door. She then activated the control to open it.

Malcolm and Hoshi entered, looking worn-out tired and sick. Not just a little bit sick, but both of them looked as though they had been through an ion storm.

"Are you two alright?" asked Trip, "Because you both look like hell."

"We didn't get much sleep," replied Hoshi, "There was a chemical in the sauna steam that kept us awake most of the night."

Malcolm glanced over at her. Since they were both feeling better, they had decided to not explain the exact details of what had occurred, but he supposed telling mostly the truth was a good avenue.

"Do you require a doctor?" asked T'Pol.

"We'll have Phlox take a look when we get back to the ship as a precaution," replied Hoshi, "but I think we're both feeling better."

Trip wanted to ask what they were doing in the sauna together, but he'd need to get to that when her and Malcolm were off duty. Instead, the four of them sat down and planned for T'Pol's afternoon meeting with the strange Romulan. T'Pol even decided to brief Hoshi on all the details of their journey, including the identity of her contact. Since the four of them were effectively on their own for the next couple of days, it made no sense to withhold any information, especially since Hoshi's linguistic skills were going to be necessary to confirm the young man was Romulan.

"I've only heard snatches of the language, but I'm guessing I could recognize Vulcan spoken in a Romulan accent," said Hoshi.

"I'll record our entire conversation," said T'Pol, "Malcolm, it is imperative that this person thinks I am there alone. However, I don't believe he is trained in such matters. It shouldn't be too risky to try and fool him."

Malcolm pushed aside the aches and the headache and concentrated on the map they had obtained of the main observation deck. Fortunately, the catwalk was out in the open, and thus it was unlikely that T'Pol's contact was going to attempt any foul play. Malcolm carefully developed a plan in which he would cover her from a position in a small balcony just above the main observation catwalk, where he could secure a position with a phase pistol without being seen. Trip would cover the T'Pol the south entrance of the catwalk, making sure no one approached her from behind. The north entrance would be uncovered, but T'Pol would have an excellent view. She would also have a phase pistol in her bag.

It was the best plan Malcolm could come up with his limited resources, and he hoped it would be enough.

****

Ston waited patiently on the catwalk for his sister to arrive. It spanned several hundred meters across the center of a massive window that was twenty decks high and overlooked the planet below.

He couldn't wait to see T'Pol again and give her her present. It had been a brilliant idea that he had thought of the night before. He would give her something so valuable, so helpful to her cause, that she would just have to like him. She would be in his debt.

He reached into his pocket and fingered a small box made of Romulan lead, and he thought of how special the contents were. Very few people even in the Empire knew what they were mining on the nearby colony or its potential use. Ston knew because he had heard his father had discussed it with him several times, trying to get Ston interested in the strategic value of various systems in the area. Ston couldn't have cared less about that, but he did know what the element in his pocket meant.

It hadn't been easy for him to obtain in such a short time, but Maleek was already in contact with some Romulans associated with the mining operation aboard the station and was able to use Ston's family name to obtain the small sample. He sighed and thought that there were advantages to being his father's son. People did things - even extraordinary things - if you asked them.

He saw her appear on the north end of the catwalk, and he caught his breath. This was it. He stood up straight and waited for her to approach.

"Good afternoon," he said in Vulcan.

She nodded, and then she waited.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the little, lead box. He held it up in the palm of his hand. She reached up to take it, but he gently pulled it back.

"What was it like growing up on Vulcan?" he asked.

"Vulcan is an agreeable place," she said.

"Were you lonely after your father died?"

That startled her, and she paused before answering.

"Losing a parent is never an easy experience," she said carefully.

She examined the young man's features, and a thought crept into her head. Something in his carriage and the bone structure of his face struck her as familiar.

"No, it isn't," he said, "My mother died when I was young."

"My condolences," she replied and very carefully took the box from his hand.

Ston looked her directly in the eyes and smiled. He knew that she knew he wasn't Vulcan, he thought himself a fool to think he'd be able to fool her. No, she was too smart for that.

"Take it," he said, "and when you want more information about it, you can come and find me."

She nodded and realized she didn't want to turn her back on this person, but she didn't have an option. Walking in reverse would draw attention to her, and she didn't need that.

As she turned to go, she felt his eyes on her. She was very puzzled. Assuming whatever what in the box was genuine, why in Surak's name had he given it to her?