A/N: This is an extra chapter, that I hadn't planned on writing. I was originally just going to have Trip go straight into his showdown with Trena'l. But then this idea popped into my head, and my plot bunnies did the rest.

I hope you enjoy!

Violations

Chapter Twenty - The Calm Before The Storm

Not for the first time since they'd boarded the Kerren, and not the last, Trip glanced across to his side. The left, first of all, where Jon offered him a tense smile, that quickly turned to one of encouragement. Then to his right, where Malcolm Reed had taken the same position of silent, supportive protection. Both of them were close enough that it felt as if they were physically welded to him, and… damn! When Jon had told him they wouldn't let him out of their sight, he hadn't been kidding.

'Much closer, an' they'll be sharin' my boots!'

At any other time, he'd have dryly told them that he was way too big, and old, for such 'babysittin'. But for what he was about to face inside this ship… no. He silently welcomed the contact. The comfort. Just to know they were there, determined to do everything they could to protect him. And wasn't it just typical, that Jon had done all he could, to make it as easy for him as possible?

Before facing Trena'l, he'd see the true face of the Xyrillian people. The gentlest restoration of his faith in the new civilizations he'd come out here to meet. The trust he would need, to recognize the good from the bad.

Knowing how hard it would be for him, Jon had arranged this 'paving the way' meeting. The simplest, the gentlest, way for it to happen. Greeting them at the airlock, Major Tol'ren still looked as apprehensive, as nervous, as Trip felt himself.

Right on cue, the hand on his shoulder tightened. An equally gentle voice soothed away the silent tremor of memory.

"Trip, this is Major Tol'ren. He's the chief aide to Governor Sha'len."

Even with this encouragement, Trip still spent several seconds staring at the hand in front of him. Fighting back everything that his memories would always associate with Xyrillian physiology. How other hands just like this one had touched him. Flattered him.

Violated him. Stolen a part of him that he could never, ever, get back.

It took another, firmer squeeze on his shoulder, to bring him out of it, and back to current reality. A third to gently persuade him, if still hesitantly, to accept that hand into an equally awkward shake. And several more moments after that, for his voice to finally raise itself to a soft, almost shy whisper.

"Um… h-hey…"

Hardly the most eloquent speech he'd ever make for first contact, or second, but it would have to do. Judging by the smile on Jon's face, though, he'd done just fine. It made it a little easier for him to do the same. Give him the strength he needed to offer his still awkwardly watching host a fairer degree of empathy.

"The… uh… Cap'n here told me what's happenin' to your planet. Your people. I'm – I'm sorry."

It was a crucial moment, for all of them. And it was reciprocated with the same, grateful sincerity.

"Thank you, Commander, but I owe you the greater apology, for everything that happened to you."

Reminded, again, of everything he'd been through, Trip nodded, but couldn't manage more than that. Instead, he glanced around at the welcome distraction of the sheer size, and levels of technology, around him.

"An' this is… uh… some ship you got here. I – I mean, she's just… huge."

Again, just a little too late, he realized this wasn't exactly what the Xyrillian would want to hear.

'Oh, way to go, Tucker. Yeah, compliment the guy on a ship he's havin' to use to save his people.'

Within another awkward silence, he again found himself humbled, and reassured, by a touchingly humane smile.

"Yes, Commander. She is, as you say… huge. And also our best hope for survival and salvation."

With that 'uh-oh' moment neatly resolved, Tol'ren then paused, glancing at Jon for silent guidance. Yes, this meeting was going surprisingly well, but both thought it was still too soon for its real purpose.

"An' he's… I – I mean, he's done this to them too? Your own people?"

For Jon, at least, this quiet question brought out a smile of both wry pride, and protective concern. He just had to look into Trip's eyes, see the simmering fury within them, to know where that anger was heading.

At the disadvantage of not knowing him, or to understand that deadly soft voice, Tol'ren again glanced at Jon for his guidance, found it in a reassuring smile, then nodded.

Before he could say anything in reply, though, Trip's still warningly quiet voice beat him to it.

"An' his ship's still here?"

Answered in turn by another proud smile, another puzzled nod, Trip took a deep, steadying breath – his next words directed towards the friend, the Captain, who knew it would be pointless to try and argue.

"I'd – I'd like to see that too, Jon. 'fore we go to see… him."

Rarely, if ever, had so much anger, so much fury, so much contempt, squeezed itself into a single word. For Jon and Malcolm, of course, it was the clearest sign yet, that Trip was starting to prepare himself. Building up the physical and mental defences he'd need, to face the demons that still awaited him.

As they headed towards the first of them, Malcolm remembered the old adage of three being a crowd. Besides, the expression on Trip's face made the same point, amusingly clearly.

'Damn, Malcolm, I'm tryin' to breathe here!'

Smiling too, if just a little less freely, he fell back a little, letting his Captain take the lead, while he and Tol'ren followed watchfully behind. The distance also allowed the Xyrillian to make an admiring observation to his human counterpart.

"Your Commander Tucker has great courage, Lieutenant. And I believe he is now quite… angry?"

To his surprise, a wry smile answered him. A uniquely accented voice left him even more intrigued.

"Believe me, Major… you're about to see that word taken to a whole new level."