NX-01 Enterprise
Mu Cassiopeiae III
March 16, 2154

T'Pol made her way to sickbay, checking in with Dr. Phlox to see if Tolaris had accomplished his task. Phlox waved the hand scanner around her head before making his pronouncement.

"I see no trace of the Pa'nar Syndrome," Phlox said. "And if I didn't know better, I'd say I was looking at the neural scans of a Vulcan teenager. Your healing trance must have worked wonders."

"It was not just that." T'Pol responded. "I convinced Tolaris to cure me."

"Tolaris!" Phlox exclaimed. "Is he around? I do hope you didn't allow him to meld with you again."

"It was the only way."

"T'Pol! That was very dangerous. And how ever did you muster the courage to meld with him again? I don't think I could have if I were in your position."

"Vulcan discipline, doctor. It has abandoned me just yet."

"Well, I'm certainly glad it hasn't. Now, you have a clean bill of health. Continue meditating nightly and practice better eating habits. Pecan pie will only give you more cavities."

"Yes, doctor."

T'Pol slid down from the medical bed where she sat and left sickbay, heading for the bridge.

Upon arriving Trip immediately began asking questions.

"So did you settle your private matter with Tolaris?" Trip asked.

"Yes." T'Pol answered.

"I don't suppose you'll tell me what that was all about."

"Later." T'Pol responded, simply.

"And Tolaris? How's he doing?"

"Not well. He is not happy with his position as Sephi's slave."

"I figured as much." Trip said. "Okay, Travis. Let's do this."

With the Vakili disconnected, Travis got to work. He had never entered atmosphere or landed on the ground with the Enterprise before, but he handled both admirably. The engineering teams tasked with the process soon had giant tubes extending from the grounded Enterprise to the wide river of deuterium-rich water. The tubes began pumping the water into the processing station aboard the ship. Light water, deuterium depleted, was pumped harmlessly back into the river.

It took hours, but the Enterprise was finally topped off with deuterium fuel. Travis wasted no time getting Enterprise back into orbit. Once there, they found themselves matched in course and speed by the Vakili.

"T'Pol," Trip said. "Give me a rundown on that ship."

"It is armed with two plasma powered projectile cannons." She said, "It has no defensive system at all, beyond a thick hull. I see no neutrino emissions that would suggest a warp engine. Life signs put it at about fifty or so Unar and dozens of humanoid slaves."

"So, you think we can take them in a fight?"

"Easily." T'Pol said. "Though conflict would risk the slaves."

Carrols reported, "Now that I know what to look for, I can say that the projectile cannons are still offline."

"Can we get a transporter lock on the slave that was aboard earlier?" Trip asked.

"I still have their life sign signature." T'Pol said. "But I believe a transporter lock will be difficult. The slaves are tightly packed."

"See what you can do." Trip said. "I want to speak to it. Carrols, you're with me. Hodges, bring the universal translator."

The three left the bridge, heading for the transporter.

"What do we want to talk to this slave about?" Carrols asked.

"There has to be an underground resistance of some sort." Trip said. "I want to make contact with them. With any luck this one knows how."

"I don't think T'Pol will approve of interfering in a pre-warp civilization's political affairs."

"I don't think she cares for people being eaten alive any more than I do."

They arrived at the transporter. Trip addressed the operator.

"Do you have a lock on them?" He asked.

The operator nodded. "I have them."

"Beam them aboard."

Quickly enough, the transporter began to hum, and the slave materialized on the pad. They immediately began clamoring for attention. It took a few moments, but Hodges was finally able to translate.

"It's asking to be sent back." She said, "It was apparently looking forward to being eaten soon."

"Looking forward to it?" Trip asked.

"That's the gist of it." Hodges replied. "Here, let me engage the translator."

"Why am I here?" The slave asked, through the translator.

"I want to make contact with your resistance."

"Resistance? Resistance to what?"

"To your masters."

"Why would we want to resist the masters? They save us from the long death."

"The long death?"

"When we mature, we enter a death phase. It is long and agonizing. The masters spare us from that."

"And are you sure such a thing exists? Isn't it possible that the Unar are lying to you?"

"The masters would never lie to us."

"I think they are, in this instance."

"Impossible."

Trip decided to change tack.

"Are you really looking forward to being eaten alive?"

"It is a small price to pay to avoid the long death."

"Are you sure about that?

"I am ready. Please send me back."

Trip floundered for a moment. It would seem there was no getting around the creature's logic.

"We can help you overthrow the Unar. You already outnumber them a hundred to one. You can deal with the long death in your own way."

"We don't want to overthrow them. They care for us. Please, send me back."

Trip was at a loss.

Before Trip could figure out what to do next, a whining sound emanated from the transporter pad. Two Unar appeared, brandishing what looked like long iguanas with their legs bent backward, forming a long stick shape. The Unar caressed small bladders on the underside of the living weapons, and they suddenly made a popping sound.

Trip felt a sting in his right pectoral and looked down in surprise, finding a three-inch needle sticking out. Immediately he felt lightheaded and fell to his knees. Before he passed out another whining sound emanated from the transporter pad as the Unar wavered and disappeared with the slave.

Trip awoke in sickbay, attended by Phlox and T'Pol.

"What happened?" He asked, confused.

Phlox answered. "You were injected with a strong sedative. I've counteracted the effects with a stimulant. You should feel better in a few moments."

"I feel fine now." Trip insisted. "What happened to the slave?"

"They were transported back to the Vakili." T'Pol said. "It was a well-coordinated rescue mission."

"Rescue mission?"

"I'm sure that is how the Unar saw it."

"I couldn't get through to the slave." Trip said. "I tried but they were just too well indoctrinated. They didn't want to be free."

"Trip, it has probably been like this for hundreds of years." T'Pol said. "You had little hope of convincing them to rebel."

"I had to try.' Trip said. "What's our current status?"

"The Unar have demanded that we leave the system." T'Pol reported. "We have complied."

"Have Travis set a course for Gamma Bootis, best possible speed. We need to catch up to the fleet."

"That shouldn't be a problem."

"Phlox, am I free to go?"

"I would rather you stay here for another hour, to be sure the effects of the sedative have dissipated."

Trip could see that Carrols and Hodges were awake, but the transporter operator was still under.

"No argument from me, Phlox. I'm still a little woozy."

T'Pol soon left to attend to the bridge. Trip could only spend his hour in recovery going over the conversation with the slave in his head, trying to find where he had gone wrong. In the end, he was forced to confront the fact that he had done all he could.

Trip lamented the reality that the Unar would undoubtedly develop warp engines before too long. Then the ugly little cannibals would be loosed upon the galaxy. While they seemed to respect those more powerful than them, pre-warp civilizations would be at their mercy.

When Trip fully recovered, he made his way to the bridge, finding the fleet already on long-ranged sensors. They would be a fleet again soon and well on their way to Gamma Bootis and, hopefully, as safe haven from the Xindi.