Seeking Help
As the turbo-lift came to a stop Trip and Hoshi let go of each other's hand. They had used the short ride to reassure each other, but as soon as the door opened they had to leave their friendship behind – at least in the public eye. The crew needed two experienced leaders and that meant they had to hide their own insecurities and fears to be dealt with in the privacy of their cabins after duty hours.
As they stepped out of the lift they walked into a beehive. Engineers and bridge personnel were bustling to and fro immersed in last minute preparations and adjustments to the many consoles. Although the Molotok class had a rather spacious main bridge, Trip had decided not to waste time on that right now and conduct the entire mission from the battle bridge. The 'luxury bridge' was something they could use on a mission of exploration. For trying to sneak into enemy space to nuke a shipyard it was a rather useless commodity.
"Captain on deck!" Tholos called out and the frantic activity died down in a heartbeat.
"As you were," Trip answered in acknowledgment and immediately everybody resumed what he or she had been doing before Tholos' call.
"How about I try to collect some sitreps while you sift through the reports?" Hoshi suggested.
"Sounds like a plan, Commander," he replied semi-officially. "I'll be in my ready room. I bet there's a tower of PADDs already waiting for me."
=/\=
Soval stood with his hands hidden in the wide sleeves of his robe. When the two prisoners were brought in, he saw with satisfaction that the human Embassy's offer to take over responsibility for the nutrition of the inmates showed results. Both were in better shape than after the first two weeks of their stay. He harbored the suspicion that the two Romulans would be seen frequently in the dining facility of United Earth's embassy, where they could consume meat without much prejudice.
An almost imperceptible nod was enough to convey his wish that the two persons before him be freed of their shackles. The young Lieutenant fulfilled the First Minister's wish and Soval gave them a moment to relax their arms and wrists.
"The High Council has deliberated on your further faith and has come to the conclusion that your invaluable service in aiding us to shorten this war in connection with your detention warrants to abstain from further punitive action, provided that you do not attempt to engage in any further espionage nor try to contact your people."
"If our people learn of our further existence, they will try to correct that 'oversight'," the man who was not V'Nur replied with unhidden sarcasm. "As you can imagine, we have no reason to contact them."
"Leave your security in our hands," Soval replied evenly, not reacting to his false brother's emotionalism. "As you surely understand,we will not be as improvident as to leave you unobserved. But the agents who are charged with surveillance of your actions are also responsible for your safety."
"What are the restrictions on our freedom?" the younger Romulan asked.
"You are subject to the same restrictions that apply to every Vulcan civilian. In your case the additional surveillance may bring occasional infractions of your privacy, but the forces are ordered to reduce those instances to the absolutely necessary minimum."
"I take it an appropriate cover story has been fabricated?" the older defector inquired.
"You are V'tosh'Ka'tur, who returned after being detained by the V'Las administration on a remote outpost. Your status as members of the sect will allow you to show emotions without raising suspicion. But be aware that while their lifestyle is largely tolerated, you may face censure from conservative elements of the population."
"This is something we can live with. We are not planning to be too visible to the wider public in any case."
"A wise choice," Soval replied dryly.
"Has the High Command also decided on my personal request?" asked the man who once was thought to be V'Nur.
"Your request to visit T'Les's burial site has been granted," Soval replied, not showing the rage he still felt at the man before him. "As for a possible meeting with T'Pol, the High Council has deemed this time inopportune to confront her with the information about her ancestry."
"Understood," the Romulan acknowledged and Soval believed he saw a genuine flash of sadness on the Romulan's face, further confounding him. The man deserved all the rage he had troubles to suppress, but on the other hand he had an emotional makeup as if he really was V'Nur.
"You will be provided with shelter," Soval decreed, tabling resolution of his inner conflict for later meditation. "From then on you are free to live on your own."
With that he pivoted and left the chamber without affording the Romulans any further conversation. He deemed exposing himself to more inner turmoil supremely unwise at this point in time, especially since there was more to ponder. The Eldest mother had summoned him to an audience on short notice. He needed to meditate urgently, lest he would offend the clan's matriarch by not having calmed his mind satisfactorily before meeting her.
=/\=
Malcolm stood in front of the view port, observing the umbilical cords as they fell away from the massive hull of the new ship one by one. T'Pol stood next to him, observing the scene with equal interest and – as he guessed from his own feelings – apprehension.
He thought about the two people whom the slowly moving ship was taking further and further away from him. It would be the first time since their wedding that Hoshi and he would be separated, but that was nothing compared to his two friends, who would have to suffer through the effects of a semi-severed mating bond for however long this mission was going to last.
T'Pol had explained that she and Trip would remain able to sense each other as a faint presence at the edge of each other's minds, but the inherent closeness of being in complete tune with their better half's emotional make-up would be gone due to the great distance. Knowing this, he didn't dare making any attempt to fathom the emptiness that Trip and T'Pol would be feeling very soon.
This would also be a test of strength for Hoshi. The nightmares about her abduction by the Reptilians and the images she saw on Corridan had haunted her a long time and only receded due to his holding her tightly every night. When she found herself alone in Salem One's field hospital after her injury at Betazed, they had returned in force. Returning to her routine of resting in his protective embrace fought them back into remission, but now she would find herself separated again.
He had pondered just asking Trip to let her sleep in his quarters, but he knew what the reaction would be – Trip would be scandalized at the thought. He fought down an amused snort. In a way he could understand Trip, but the situation also didn't lack a certain irony. It wasn't exactly an uncommon occurrence to come home from the gym after a Suus Mahna sparring with T'Pol and find Trip and Hoshi engaged in a card game, sharing a beer or drinking tea, which to the outsider would of course have looked utterly strange due to Hoshi's categorical refusal to wear more than a pair of panties – if at all even those – inside their own four walls unless the ambient temperature forced her to.
Neither would any of the four of them think anything was wrong about him and T'Pol using the communal shower of the gym at the same time after their martial arts practice. Yet the thought of T'Pol asking him if she could sleep in his quarters was somehow too weird. Not that he understood why, considering that it wasn't any more intimate than being in the shower together even if the communal facility left enough space between them.
T'Pol certainly wasn't of the ugly persuasion; in fact she ran a very close second to Hoshi's gorgeous form and Trip probably thought the same, just with the roles of Hoshi and T'Pol reversed. But appreciating the gorgeous looks of their wives was one thing, swapping them for that was out of the question. The thought of hurting his best friend like that was anathema to him and he didn't doubt for a second that Trip thought the same. That's why he would win the bet with T'Pol, no doubt about that.
In her typical fashion T'Pol had surprised him by declaring that it was 'the logical course of action' that Trip keep Hoshi company if that's what was required for restful sleep. Of course – he realized – she approached the topic with the logic of a Vulcan as opposed to their pesky unexplainable human gut feelings. She knew that they were close but in absence of any averse bond reaction she saw no reason to be worried. In a way she operated on the maxim 'as long as the bond remains calm, everything is fine among the four of us'.
What the alternative looked like, well, poor Trip had learned about that a while ago, when some recently-hired young civilian female engineer, unaware of his being 'taken', had made less-than-subtle advances on the Station's commanding officer, leaving Trip and T'Pol almost physically sick when their bond's equilibrium was upset by the blatant intrusion.
He looked over at T'Pol after a prolonged silence watching the launch of Trip's ship. Of course he had seen the errant tear that had escaped her attempts to remain outwardly calm the moment the huge ship had started to move, but he pretended not to have seen it for her sake.
"Are you sure you're up to coping with all my paperwork on top of yours?" he quipped in an attempt to lighten the gloomy mood.
"As I understand it, it would be poor form to back out of a bet," T'Pol replied dryly, her voice showing no sign of her inner turmoil. "It is, however, not yet a given that your assumption will be proven true. You might be underestimating Hoshi's strength."
"I might," Malcolm agreed. "But I'm happy she's not alone out there. Trip will look after her."
"They will both help each other," T'Pol noted. "It is what we promised each other, is it not?"
"Indeed," Malcolm said with a small smile, happy about T'Pol's verbal assist in prying himself away from the view port. "That's why I'll help you with those botany studies now."
He chuckled at her eyebrow creeping very far north in surprise.
"Well, with you on the task there's no chance that we are not going to win that contract," he explained. "My talent to blow stuff up will be fairly useless in a few years. It's time to broaden my horizons."
Her eyebrow still was very high up her forehead, but she offered no comment as they walked away to the big table in T'Pol's station office.
"So has Phlox offered any help in genetically modifying these plants?" he continued his conversation with her eyebrow while she called up what looked to him like a genetic diagram.
"I have revisited the data that Crewmen Cutler and Novakovich collected before the compound started affecting us and I have come to a surprising result," T'Pol explained and called up a few more diagrams for comparison.
"The genome looks completely different than the others," Malcolm noted and pointed at a sequence that couldn't be found in any of the other diagrams.
"Indeed," she agreed. "This plant is not native to the planet. That explains why it has such a heavy defensive mechanism that serves no purpose in the absence of any herbivores big enough to consume its foliage."
"So it has been introduced?"
"Most likely inadvertently," she confirmed with a nod and called up some sort of meteorological simulation. "I extrapolated the likely distribution area of the plant."
"We suspected the pollen was blown down from the mountains," Malcolm recalled. "You didn't suffer any problems before the storm hit."
"Indeed. The plant must reside on the south side of this mountain range."
"Or half the planet by now, if there were more storms," he mused.
"That is rather unlikely," T'Pol disagreed. "Although the planet's insect population is diverse, none of the insects have evolved to care for this plant. It is dependent on being pollinated by chance, which severely hinders its procreation."
"So it should be relatively easy to exterminate."
"We need a live sample to determine a way to exterminate the plant without putting an unnecessary strain on the planet's eco system."
"I think we know someone who can help us with that..."
=/\=
Soval entered the dwelling and pushed back the cloak that had protected him from the sun. It wasn't often that one was summoned for an unannounced audience with the clan's matriarch and he wondered what T'Para wanted to discuss. The release of the Romulan defectors was the likeliest topic.
"Live long and prosper," he intoned in contemporary Vulcan. "You wished to see me, pidkom."
"Peace and long life, son of our clan," the matriarch returned the greeting. "Have a seat and rest. We have much to discus."
Soval took the offered glass and slowly drank its contents. It would be unseemly to display any haste. It also gave him time to contemplate any possible reasons for the unexpected audience. Speculation did of course serve no purpose as the Eldest Mother would reveal the reason for her summoning him in due time, but it was one of the habits he had adopted during his time on Earth and it was a hard habit to lose.
"T'Pau has contacted me with a request for help, and upon reviewing her logic I found myself in favor of offering the requested assistance," the matriarch began without preamble, and her tone made it clear to him that she did not expect him to come to a different conclusion.
"If you would let me have the details behind this request?" he inquired dryly.
He HHHe listened intently as the Eldest Mother relayed details about how Charles, his wife and the En'ahr'at of Lorian planned to go up against several large industrial consortia in their bid to receive Starfleet's order to build a space station and make habitable a planet that had almost ended Enterprise's mission for some of the crew mere weeks after the launch.
He knew that Charles was overly ambitious at times and T'Pol could be prone to set herself unattainable goals, but this was an impossible target, even by their standards. What surprised him even more was the impression that the clan's matriarch seemed to share their misplaced optimism.
"I find myself surprised about your positive regard for this request," he ventured carefully, once the Eldest had concluded her narrative. "It appears to be overly ambitious even by Human standards – and would it not be better for Charles and T'Pol to return to Vulcan at some point in time?"
"Vulcan is no place to live for Charles. Prolonged exposure to our higher gravity would lead to long-term consequences for his health. It would also be no place for Malcolm or someone as fragile as Hoshi."
"I do not understand what Lorian's en'ahr'at have to do with this?" the First Minister asked.
"You have been kept busy by your duties, Soval. You have not yet seen the unique closeness and trust between the four of them. The Andorians under Charles's command affectionately refer to them as a 'quad' and T'Pau refers continually to having 'four En'ahr'at'. You have to delve deep into the ancient texts to find anything even remotely similar in our culture. Whilst friendship is not an alien concept on our world, such a close one is unheard-of. It is my conviction that where one pair of mates goes, the other one goes, too."
"Most intriguing." Soval confined himself to that observation; more would risk giving away his surprise in front of the Eldest Mother.
"It is of utmost importance that we render any assistance we can in their attempt to gain this contract. This is not only out of interest for the clan. Those consortia want to gain the contract for monetary gain, while the children want to build a home for themselves among the stars. Logic dictates that they are approaching the task with much more honorable intentions and the result will reflect that. And Charles and T'Pol in particular need a home where they can live peacefully without facing prejudice for their union. Neither Earth nor our world is such a place."
"They shall have any assistance I can offer," Soval acquiesced. One did not deny the Eldest Mother, especially when she spoke with what was an almost enthusiastic zeal and when the well-being of clansmen was at stake.
"In the early days of their mission, the human vessel encountered a planet in the 61 Ursae Majoris system."
"I have never heard of such a system," Soval replied, noticing too late that he had interrupted the matriarch.
She silently accepted his apologetic nod, and continued, "It is the human name of the system. Vulcans have never charted it despite its relative closeness to our own world. These are the data transmitted by T'Pau. They require live samples of a specific plant, orbital scans and geological data."
"I shall dispatch a science vessel," Soval promised as he took the data chip from the Eldest.
"Make sure the report is read in its entirety. The planet might look as lush as Earth, but it is dangerous. I also urge you to keep the reasons for this research strictly confidential."
"Of course, Eldest."
"Have you come to accept what you learned about your past?" the Eldest asked, swiftly changing the topic.
Soval closed his eyes and applied several breathing techniques to calm himself.
"I still find it hard to accept that the man I thought to be my brother was in fact an impostor."
"It is indeed hard to fathom," the matriarch agreed, and Soval had to fight his surprise at the uncharacteristically soft tone of her voice. "But in a way he is your brother, more than your biological sibling, who was hardly even a part of your life.
You have melded with him yourself. Did the man not regard you as a brother the same way you did? In a way he is as much a victim of the conflict as you are. He had to lead someone else's life, not his own. But he made it his own. And never forget, our people have inflicted similar damage on families of our lost brethren. His sacrifice spares many lives that in ancient times originated on this world, even if we are still forced to take the lives of Rihanssu to regain peace."
"I have much to contemplate, pidkom."
"Indeed you do, son of our clan. You may make use of my meditation chamber if you wish."
=/\=
The urge to jump out of bed ran through his body like a lightning bolt. Only the return of the memories of last night prevented him from doing so – plus the worry about waking up the slender figure who was occupying the bed with him and clinging to his torso as if it was a life-belt and she was terrified of drowning.
According to his wishes Hoshi had kept the bathrobe on, but it was a mere token gesture as, only held together by a simple knot, the belt had opened due to her restless sleep, revealing her half-naked form through the opened robes. She was beautiful, but the absence of covering also revealed her fragility. It was hard to fathom that in this slender, almost skinny body resided such a strong mind and such a lively soul. However, the memory of waking up the night before to find her standing in his quarters, terrorized by what must have been a hideous nightmare, reminded him why he had agreed to let her share his bunk.
Of course it still felt wrong in any way imaginable to wake up with the topless wife of his best friend resting beside him, but he could hardly have sent her away when she was clearly in distress. Hoshi was, after all, the closest friend he had beside Malcolm and she had given up almost all of her shore leave – time she could have spent with her husband – to help him overcome the effects of his mental breakdown. It was the least he could do, even if it made him uncomfortable.
Thankfully they were not too far away from Earth yet and he would have a chance to inform Malcolm about what happened. It would at least relieve part of his guilty conscience.
=/\=
"Prepare yourself for some overtime in the office," Malcolm said smugly as they sat down in front of the terminal.
"I see no reason for you to be so sure you that have won your bet already," T'Pol replied deadpan. "It could be official business."
"Don't think so," he disagreed. "They've only been one day out. If it was official, the call would have come through Starfleet. Hoshi had nightmares and sought his help, and now he feels guilty. One hundred percent."
"We shall see," T'Pol said, but the way she appraised the stack of PADDs with his daily bureaucratic work told him that she had already come to realize that his observation was not quite as outlandish as it seemed.
When the screen lit up Malcolm looked into the worried face of Trip. Hoshi sat next to him and smiled back at her husband.
"Let me guess, Trip," Malcolm started with a grin. "Hoshi had nightmares, asked to sleep in your quarters and now you want to make sure that T'Pol and I are okay with that. I bet you even made her wear pyjamas."
He tried desperately not to laugh when the Southerner looked at them slack-jawed, while Hoshi's eyes nearly bugged out as she tried not to double over in a giggle fit.
"I suppose the bond only went mute on me then," Trip muttered with a surprised look at T'Pol.
T'Pol shook her head slightly and Malcolm knew that she was deliberately saying nothing in an attempt to not alert Trip to how miserable the separation made her.
"Actually, if anyone has anything to confess, it's me," Malcolm said. "I knew that Hoshi's nightmares returning when we are separated was a distinct possibility. I actually spoke to T'Pol about it to make sure it wasn't going to upset your bond."
"Why didn't you talk to me beforehand?" Trip asked, more annoyed than really angry in Malcolm's opinion. "I would at least have been prepared."
For the same reason why we're having this conversation," Malcolm said. "I knew you'd feel strange about it. Hell, I would, had T'Pol shown up in my quarters in the middle of the night, but the two of us are much more used to being alone than you and Hoshi."
He saw the trademark grin return to Trip's face as relief washed over his friend.
"In one aspect your crystal ball has lied to you, buddy. I didn't make her wear a pajama."
Malcolm raised an eyebrow – T'Pol style.
"She wore a pair of panties and a bathrobe."
The three humans started laughing and even T'Pol looked amused for a moment.
"Anyway, Trip. I'm just glad Hoshi's not alone out there. The easiest thing to do would have been to keep her here and send you out with Terval as XO. But that would have meant leaving you alone out there and we all promised to do our jobs until this war is won. And Hoshi is the best for the job."
"I'm just feelin' a bit guilty that she spent all her time helping me back on myfeet again after breakdown when she could have used some help herself."
"None of us was has resolved all his or her problems just because we spent a week on a fancy island," Malcolm said, shaking his head. "We'll have to table that for the next years. There'll be time for that when we can settle somewhere. Until then we'll tough it out best we can."
"Aye, Doctor Freud," Trip said with a grin. "So what's that smug grin you're having all the time?"
"Because I shall do his 'paperwork' for a week," T'Pol replied dryly as Malcolm smugly shoved a stack of PADDs over to her. She heard Trip's surprised laugh.
"Darlin', you've let a Brit talk you into a bet?"
"He let me talk him into being my sparring partner to keep up my martial arts skills, it is a fair exchange," T'Pol replied.
"Sure," her mate replied smugly. "He just fancies the shower afterwards, so he can look at your 'awfully nice bum'."
"Says the guy who spent the night with my wife," Malcolm shot back, feeling the heat of his slight blush and not wanting the ribbing to be a one-sided affair. He could see that both Trip and Hoshi had started to relax visibly during their banter, which was exactly what he'd intended.
"This is some weird talk we're having," Hoshi said with a giggle. "But at least it took my mind of this damn mission for a while."
"Take care out there," Malcolm said with a knowing nod, and Hoshi threw him a kiss. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Trip and T'Pol were less expressive, but this 'drowning in each other's loving glance' routine between them did seem to work even over vast distances.
"I'm awfully sorry," he said after the faces of Trip and Hoshi had been replaced by the Starfleet emblem on the screen.
"What are you apologizing for?" asked his companion, getting ready to start working on a double-load of bureaucratic chores.
"Well – Trip insinuated that I check you out in the shower." His tone betrayed that he wasn't quite as poised as he had intended.
"I have noticed that you occasionally appraise my physique. Trip does the same when he meets with Hoshi for their card games," she remarked casually, not looking up from her PADD, and Malcolm felt as if his face was burning up from a massive blush. He wanted to deliver a denial, but nothing more than an embarrassed cough resulted from his attempt.
"Do not worry, neither of us is offended. I could easily stop using the shower after practice at the same time as you if it inconvenienced me, and Hoshi would not welcome Trip in the nude if she was uncomfortable with his occasional looks. As Hoshi once explained: it does not matter where you and Trip whet your appetite, it does matter that you both know whom to have dinner with."
"Excuse me while I crawl away somewhere to die of embarrassment," Malcolm muttered. "Lunch?"
"Twelve-thirty, my quarters," T'Pol replied calmly, continuing to sign off reports.
He didn't see her significantly raised brow of amusement when he fled from the room, his face still colored a nice shade of crimson.
=/\=
Ten days later, on approach to space station Salem One
Trip sat in his captain's chair, checking the latest test reports on the viewer that was integrated in the arm rest of the comfy piece of furniture. Even the battle bridge of this new ship was better equipped than what Enterprise had had to offer six years ago.
According to the data on his display, the engine was barely breaking a sweat even though they were cruising at a steady six-point-five. The same could not be said for Anna and her engineers. The chief had worked her crews very hard over the last few days to get all systems running in peak condition, and she had put Molotok through a rudimentary test program. At least they could now be sure that they would not be caught with their pants down by something catastrophic like a containment breach.
Unfortunately those 'must do' tests and some weapons tests were all they had had time for as in about two hours they would arrive at Salem One to pick up a sizable fleet of mainly Andorian and Vulcan ships. Tholos at least was perfectly happy with the weapons test – the Cervi system was missing an asteroid now – and since this was a seek-and-destroy mission, having a happy tactical officer was a good sign.
Trip looked over at the comms console, where Hoshi was already exchanging approach protocols with the station. Normal protocol would have called for a dedicated comms officer, but Trip saw no logic in separating T'Len and Sonos when they already had the Coalition's best linguist aboard as the First Officer. As an added bonus it gave Hoshi something to do other than sit idly next to him and wait to take over whenever he left the bridge.
"Hoshi?" he asked in the direction of his friend, when he saw her almost imperceptible sign that some sort of communication had arrived.
"We're cleared for approach," she reported. "They ask if we have any early orders for the fleet."
"Tell Shran to initiate command protocols. Challenger will be the backup command ship. All ships prepare. We launch 08:00. They should already be synchronized to Salem One station time. Have them do so if not."
He saw her acknowledging nod and went back to checking engineering read-outs on his armrest. Old habits die hard.
=/\=
His antennae flicked back and forth in excitement when the massive bulk of the of the first Coalition built ship dropped out of warp.
"What a ship," Shran said as the behemoth glided towards them on impulse power. He had seen the schematics during Archer's briefing, but seeing it in person, out here in space, was an entirely different matter. It had a huge arrow-shaped upper section that gave it a much more dynamic appearance than the perfectly round saucer of the NX class, and the nacelles extended not up, but down, which protected them better against enemy fire.
Slowly the nacelles started to move and he noticed that the pylons retracted until the nacelles came to a stop nestling next to the hull. In a fire-fight the enemy would be almost unable to hit them without bringing their own ship within point-blank weapons range. It was obvious that this ship had been designed for a single purpose – to rain death and destruction upon the enemies of the Coalition.
The Andorian stood up when the face of Fleet Captain Tucker appeared on the screen.
"I'm green with envy," he said in admiration. "You've built a fine ship, Fleet Captain."
"The first of many, but first we make sure the Romulans don't follow our example."
"Agreed."
"Meet me in two hours at our starboard docking port. I'll give you and Commodore Archer a tour of the ship. Bring some ale."
"That goes without saying," Shran acknowledged with a satisfied grin.