Brave New- Part 2

"BRAVE NEW WORLD"
An "Enterprise" story

By Alison M. DOBELL

SUMMARY: "Captain Archer sends an away team down
to a planet in answer to a distress beacon. No one is
quite prepared for what they find."
Rated: NC-17.
The usual disclaimers apply. The characters and "Enterprise"
are owned by Parmount. No infringement of copyright is
intended.

Feedback to: AlisonMDobell@aol.com

***************

Part Two

It was odd. Sub-Commander T'Pol could not take her eyes off the Commander, surreptitiously watching him share his breakfast with the creature. He seemed relaxed and perfectly content. The Sanacrid sat on his right shoulder, his beautiful tail plume curled gently around Trip's neck. Small petite front paws ending in delicate little claws that it moved with deft precision to accept and handle the food offered to it. Though his claws were as sharp as razors the creature never knicked the human once. She watched fascinated. Trip seemed to have accepted the presence of the creature with a minimum of fuss and no surprise at all. As if it was the most natural thing to do. He spoke quietly and gently to it and it seemed to respond to the sound and cadence of his voice. Curious. She looked at Dr Phlox who was staring in rapt delight at the small creature.

"What did you say the creature was called, doctor?"

"A Sanacrid."

"You said that they were very rare. How rare?"

He glanced at her. "They exist on a number of planets, Sub-Commander, but their numbers have always been small. It is how they avoid detection from less passive lifeforms. They are discrete gentle creatures unless roused."

Her eyebrow rose. "Roused?"

"Roused, threatened, injured. Even the most placid of species will defend itself and its' young."

She nodded and went back to watching the creature delicately accept food from Trip's hand as he ate. He seemed not to notice her attention or the little creature sitting on his shoulder. He was talking to Lt Reed, trying to calm the Englishman down.

"You should let it go, Trip. It's a wild animal and it belongs in the wild."

"Ya miss the point, Malcolm. He's just visiting. Not doin' no harm and he's better company than some I could mention."

Lt Reed flushed, whether in anger or embarrassment it was hard to tell. "What are you saying?"

"Not sayin' nothin' Malcolm, ya just gotta learn to relax and calm down. When he's ready to go he'll go."

Commander Tucker absent mindedly picked up a foil food pack. As he chatted to Lt Reed the topic moved on to how they were going to find whoever had sent the distress call. On safer ground, all contention between them disappeared and they were quickly reviewing the available options. Trip had difficulty tearing the pack open so brought the pack up to his mouth and ripped the top off with his teeth. The Sanacrid began to chitter anxiously, its' head dipping up and down in distress. They stopped talking. Trip stared at the creature and glanced at the pack in his hand. Dr Phlox moved closer, fascinated. Trip turned the pack and looked at it more closely. It was passed the optimal date for ingestion. Warnings on the pack stating it would be unsafe to eat. The contents no longer stable. His mouth dropped open in shock and he stared at the Sanacrid. "Well, wha'd'ya know?" He said softly, eyes shining with stunned gratitude. "Ya saved my life."

"I wouldn't go that far, Trip." Said Lt Reed in a slightly grouchy voice.

Dr Phlox reached out a hand for the food pack. "May I?"

"Sure doc, knock ya'self out."

"It's probably just a coincidence," Mumbled Lt Reed slightly miffed at all the fuss.

Trip was not listening. He was staring at the Sanacrid. The Sanacrid chittered quietly to him and he looked passed the little creature to find T'Pol looking at him. It was weird but at that moment it was as if he could hear every thought in her head. Feel her mood, her reservations, her hopes, her wishes. The empty gulf that had been life for her until she had joined Enterprise. Wow. How the hell had he known that? She did not look away but raised a single stiff eyebrow. He felt a wash of sadness for her. To have lived such a hard, cold life. A life without love or affection. Without laughter. For T'Pol there had only been duty. And a pretty dry and dusty one at that. Then she was looking away from him. He swallowed and looked at the Sanacrid. The two sharing a moment of absolute clarity and understanding.

* * * * *

It was perhaps a mile and a half to the crash site. The mangled wreckage would never fly again. The structure ripped open as if someone had attacked it with a huge tin opener. Most of the crew were dead. The three that remained were impatient but determined not to let their guard down for a minute while they awaited a mothership to arrive for their extraction. They were in enemy territory and the sudden loss of control of their spy craft would have to be paid for with the humiliation of extraction. Krentar hung his head in shame. As the most senior surviving officer he held the blame for the failure of their mission. Corat and Shanar would not make eye contact with him. It was forbidden for a lower rank to look a higher rank in the eye. A sign of beligerance and a challenge to his authority. Even injured they still had their pride and on that their whole society based its' structure and value. Krentar tended his wounds in silence. They were minor, not enough to prevent the hunt but anything that detracted from optimum efficiency was a bad thing. He looked at the other two and made the painful decision. The loss of their craft had ended their sport.

Heads dipped in acquiessence then the men got up and began the painful task of leaking out the fuel cells so that they could detonate their craft. What they could not take with them they would leave behind. At least the bright plume of their vessel blowing up would be a welcome aid to the mothership for their retrieval.

* * * * *

They packed up quickly and Lt Reed was pleasantly surprised to see that the snow had gone and they were looking at a much milder day. No bitter wind to steal their body warmth. No ice underfoot to make the rocks perilous to walk. It was not exactly warm but at least it was bright and just a little cool. Like an early Autumnal day back on Earth. Commander Tucker grinned as he stepped outside to join him, the doctor and Sub-Commander T'Pol following him out. For a moment they all paused to look around them. The planet looking entirely different in a more benign light. Lt Reed summed it up best.

"You'd hardly think it was the same planet."

Commander Tucker looked at T'Pol, the Sanacrid sitting on his shoulder with his tail curled around the human's neck. His little body flattened on Trip's shoulder like an epaulette. It was odd how quickly she had got used to the sight. Trip was looking at her now, his eyes calm and gentle. For some reason it gave her soul ease. She was glad the Commander was with them. "Which way, T'Pol?"

She pointed and led the way. She had the strangest feeling that if she asked him to, the Commander would follow her anywhere. She gave her head a little shake and dismissed the foolish notion. She had obviously been around humans for too long. Yet somehow that thought did not disturb her as much as it would once have done. They had not gone more than five hundred yards when an explosion rocked the ground beneath their feet. A bright concatanation of smaller explosions compouded on each other in such quick succession it was like a huge single fireball frying the cool air and lighting up the sky for miles and miles. Lt Reed looked infinitely sad. "Oh God, we're too late."

"Ya don't know that, Malcolm. But at least we know we're goin' the right way." Said the Commander.

Lt Reed nodded at his friend but nothing he could think, do or say would lift the weight of sadness bearing down on him. He moved like a man searching for bodies. Trip had no words to suggest otherwise. In silence they hurried, the fireball drawing them on. Hearts aching at the thought that they had come all this way for nothing. As they drew near to the site the Sanacrid began to become oddly tense. Trip felt a trickle of apprehension almost like a warning. His head came up and he spun round. Too late. The crossfire caught him before he could find cover. Vaguely aware that his friends had been caught in the same trap. As he fell the Sanacrid leapt from his shoulder and scurried into hiding. The bright pattern of his gleaming eyes filling with sorrow and terror. His lush tail swinging slowly back and forth like a cat showing its' anger. The Sanacrid did not move but watched and waited. Its' large pale eyes luminous and adding a strange glow to his hiding place.

* * * * *

Ensign Hoshi Sato's face paled. Captain Archer was rudely awoken from a couple of hours much needed sleep by an emergency alert. Throwing his uniform on as quickly as he could he flicked the wall com. "What the hell's happening Travis?"

Travis Mayweather had a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach. He glanced at Hoshi and swallowed hard. "You better get up here Captain, there's been one hell of an explosion down on the planet and Hoshi has lost all contact with the away team."

"On my way!"

He practically flew to the bridge, his anxiety heightened by what he saw when he got there. The screen showed the building fireball roll up from the ground far below. "Holy...." His voice trailed off. That was one huge explosion. He frowned slightly wondering if the shuttlepod would cause an explosion that big. He looked at Hoshi. "Try to raise Sub-Commander T'Pol again, ensign."

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

He waited, palms sweating, breathing irregular. A pain in his chest as he worried and fretted for his missing crew. All of them friends. He looked at Hoshi. She was shaking her head. He blinked. Stunned. He asked for exact details of where the explosion had come from. Was it the exact landing site of the shuttlepod? Calculations were racing inside his head, holding the grief at bay. He would exhaust every avenue available to him before he would even consider all hands had been lost.

* * * * *

Sub-Commander T'Pol awoke to find herself sitting with her back to a tree. Her hands were tied around the trunk and her weapon had been taken. She looked down at her chest but there was no sign of any injury. A stun weapon then. Crude but effective. She wondered where the others were. She could hear voices but could not turn her head far enough to see who was speaking. Then the voices faded away, echoing slightly as they did so. What did it mean? Was there a cave nearby? She closed her eyes a moment, trying to remember as much detail as possible when she felt something on her lap. Her eyes sprang open and she looked down, startled to see the little Sanacrid looking up at her. His pale eyes were almost opalescent, they looked somehow sad and determined at the same time. Then it ran up her torso and sat on her shoulder much as she had seen it do with Trip. Trip. Not Commander Tucker but Trip. She looked at the creature but said nothing, its' eyes seeming to look right into her soul. She felt her heart ache and hoped the others were okay. A mental image of Trip being tortured filled her mind. Then she remembered something. Dr Phlox had said the Sanacrid was telepathic. She looked at it and opened her mind.

Images faster and clearer filled her mind. She concentrated and stretched her senses. She was inside a cave. Trip, Malcolm and Dr Phlox were all in the cave. She noticed Lt Reed looked very pale. Was lying on the floor with his hands and feet tied barely conscious. Two large bipedal aliens were shaking the Commander, one raging at him in a language she did not recognise. They were brutal, hands ending in wicked claws that they sank into his shoulder as they shook him. He cried out, not understanding either their questions or their brutality. She could not see what had happened to Dr Phlox. For a moment she hoped he had managed to escape but that fantasy was proven false when a third captor stepped into view and threw the good doctor on the floor next to Lt Reed. There was blood all down the doctor's front and his eyes were closed. Shaken, T'Pol cried out with her mind. The little Sanacrid dared to touch her neck with his tail, the contact calming her. She opened her eyes and stared at it. *You understand my thoughts?*

*Yes*

*Why are you here?*

*They are going to kill everyone*

*Who are they?*

*The enemy*

*Do you know their name? Where they come from?*

*They are Ralcaddons. They live to conquer. They torture for pleasure. They rape to feed the wickedness of their souls*

Her eyes widened as her heart missed a beat. *Rape?*

*Male, female, it makes no difference. Only the level of pain they induce excites them*

*They must be stopped. I have to help my friends. Can you help me?*

*If I release you do not enter the cave*

T'Pol frowned. *If they are in the cave then that is where I must go*

The Sanacrid looked at her for a moment, his eyes incredibly sad. Then before she could say anything more the little creature darted down and disappeared. The Vulcan tugged at the rope but she was fastened too tightly. She could not break free on her own. Where had the creature gone? And why tell her what was happening to the others if it would not let her go to their aid? She closed her eyes, the images inside her head driving her crazy. Then she heard the screams. Her eyes snapped open, tears running down her face as she realised what they were doing.

* * * * *

He could not believe it. These creatures were beyond inhuman. He had been made to watch while they had tortured Malcolm. Stripping his clothes off him and playing with him while his friend had screamed and cried and tried to fight them off. They had laughed at his distress, mocked him when he cried as they prodded him with their sharp appendages. They seemed to like touching him, making him writhe and plead for mercy. Trip swore, spat at them, tried everything he could think of to deflect their attention off his friend so they would not rape him. He had no idea where T'Pol was. Had she escaped or had they already killed her? It hurt too much to trawl through the possibilities so he concentrated on what was happening around him. What he could see. Because he was so angry and vocal they left him until last. Feeding off his anger as they played first with Malcolm then the doctor.

He had never seen a Denobulan naked before. It was a strange sight but it was the look in Phlox's eyes that disturbed him the most. This gentle caring man of medicine being defiled by these disgusting creatures while the depths of his eyes told Trip that he knew exactly what they were doing to him and why. That bright awareness would not even give him the gift of ignorance to temper the desecration. But he would not cry out. His lips closed firm, his eyes taking on a faraway look as if going into trance. That was when they cut him. Cruel claws rending unresisting flesh. Still he would not cry out. Would not give them what they wanted. Trip cried for him and they laughed in his face. When the doctor passed out they threw him like a discarded rag. He fell inches from Lt Reed. For some insane reason it comforted Trip that his two friends were at least together. But his comfort was short lived and soon torn away from him.

They did not strip him like the others but impaled him on their curved angular claws, shaking him as he cried out in agony. Bathing themselves in a shower of blood as they shook him. He could not understand them. Not a single word. Much as he would have liked to understand what was going on, who these creatures were, he was infinitely glad that Hoshi was not with them to translate. But T'Pol. His heart bled. Ached with unbearable pain and sorrow. What had they done to T'Pol? Then they pinned him to the cave wall and woke Malcolm. The Englishman looked out of it, nothing penetrating until they dragged him over to the wall. He looked at Trip and his eyes came into focus, new tears filling the tracks of the old. Malcolm held out a shaky hand to touch him. Hardly able to see for the tears. "Oh God, why are they doing this to us, Trip?"

It was hard for him to speak but he knew Malcolm needed to hear his voice. Know that he was still alive and could hear him. That he was not alone. The time they had spent alone on Shuttlepod One when they thought they were going to die had taught him a great deal about the Englishman. Fear of dying alone had proved to be his greatest terror. "Mal... they're sick..."

Malcolm wept with relief and pain and sorrow. His friend was alive. One of the Ralcaddons pulled him away from Trip, seemed pleased to see how this distressed him. Held him while another twisted his claw in Trip's shoulder to make him scream. It was too much. "You bastards, let him go, let him go!" But he was impotent, powerless to do anything but watch and weep. When Trip passed out they started on Malcolm but by then he did not care. They were all going to die anyway. It was just a matter of how long it would take.

* * * * *

Captain Archer did the calculation a second then a third time. His sensitive face showed the tentative ray of hope. "It's not them."

Hoshi frowned at him. Wondering whether he was losing it.

"It's not them. The shuttlepod landed several miles to the east of that location. There's still a chance. I'm going to send another shuttlepod down to bring them back."

Just then Travis interrupted the Captain. "Captain, I'm picking up a ship on the sensors."

The fledgling hope flared into a bright fame. A ship! Help had arrived. He glanced at Hoshi, "Hail them, Hoshi."

She was about to do so when she frowned. "They are already hailing us, Captain."

He nodded, allowing himself a slight smile. "Put them through, on screen."

The inside of a foreign bridge filled the screen. A bipedal alien he had never seen before looked back at him, its' crude gutteral language slowly being converted into English as Hoshi's fingers flew over her translator. "You are not wanted here, go or you will be destroyed!"

The blood drained out of the Captain's face. This was *not* the response he had hoped for. "You don't understand, my people are down there. I need help to rescue them."

"If they are down there they are already dead or worse. Leave now or do not leave at all!"

The screen went blank. Shocked faces stared at each other then the Captain's look hardened. "We are not going anywhere until we retrieve our people. I don't care how big the bully is."

"Captain?"

"Yes, Travis?"

"I've never seen any aliens like that before."

"Me neither Travis but you know what they say don't you?"

"What's that sir?"

"The bigger they are the harder they fall."

* * * * *

The day seemed never ending. T'Pol hardly noticed she was no longer alone until the Sanacrid touched her mind with his gentle thoughts. *I will untie you now*

*Where did you go? What happened?*

*The enemy has gone to the crash site to await extraction*

*How do you know this?*

*I watch, I wait, I learn*

She felt something graze her wrist lightly then the rope fell away and she was free. A faint trickle of blood ran down her left wrist where the Sanacrid's sharp claw had accidentally nicked her.

*Hurry, there is little time*

The Sub-Commander did not need to be told twice. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her, the little Sanacrid amazingly fleet of foot. He darted into the cave and T'Pol followed without pause. She smelt the blood before she found her crew mates. Almost lost her balance on the thick pool of blood on the cave floor. Her throat gagged, the smell offensive and distressing to her. She ran over to Lt Reed, saw the cuts on his body where the Ralcaddons had taunted and played with him with their huge sharp claws. He was unconscious and naked. Next to him lay Dr Phlox, blood drenched his bare chest and ran down his legs. Tears ran silently down her face as she cast about for their clothes to cover them. She saw a bundle in a corner by the wall and ran over to it, her heart stopping completely when she realised it was not a bundle of clothes but a man. She touched him gently, her heart going out to him as she carefully laid him out. Unwinding his bloody twisted limbs, her hands sliding slick with blood, her tears washing his face.

"Trip! Oh Trip, what have they done to you?"

The Sanacrid tried to hurry her. *No time, no time*

She wanted to swipe it out of the way but could not bring herself to do so. If not for the Sanacrid she would still be tied to the tree waiting to be raped. If not for the Sanacrid even this faint chance of escape would be denied to them. So T'Pol nodded, thanked him, and ran back to Malcolm and the doctor. Her hands trembling as she dressed them in clothes now torn and tattered. It was the best she could do. She ran back to the Commander, knelt beside him and brushed a gentle hand through his hair. There was blood all over him but she detected a faint pulse. "Don't die, please don't die!"

The Sanacrid looked at her, knew they had so little time. Not long enough for her to drag or carry three men to safety. She needed help and he only knew of one way she could do it. *If* the Vulcan was willing to try. *You must initiate a mind meld with him*

T'Pol paused and looked at the Sanacrid. *I can't*

*Then he will die*

*You don't understand*

*You have feelings for the human*

*He is my friend but he is not Vulcan*

*You have feelings for him* He persisted.

T'Pol hung her head, looked at Trip's face and laid her bloodied hand against his cheek. His blood. Her hand. His life. Her soul.

*You love him*

*I hardly know him*

*How much greater the love will be when you do*

In that moment she made her decision. Quickly she adjusted her hand, the fingers splayed to touch the contact points, her mind opening to him, her thoughts touching his and sharing energy and love and the whisper of a thousand things he had never heard of before. He was in pain, even unconscious he suffered. Now they were connected she shared his pain, eased the trauma and spoke to him heart to heart. Felt his stunned response in joyous acclamation. So gentle, so loving, so ready to do anything for her. It moved her so deeply, this treasure she had found. *Trip, you have to wake up. We have to get out of here*

*T'Pol? You're alive?*

She drank in his joy as if she had never quenched her thirst before. *Yes, but we have to help get you out of here before they return. Before they can finish off Malcolm and Dr Phlox*

That roused him. The thought that others would die if he did nothing. He stirred slowly, she kept her link open, her strength pouring into him, her love sustaining him even though she refused to give it a name. After all. He was not Vulcan. She hardly knew him. But he was her friend. He staggered to his feet, hanging on to T'Pol for balance. His breathing was ragged. He looked terrible but his eyes shone gently when he looked at her. As quickly as he was able he went to Malcolm and tried to rouse him. It was hard going so he slapped him, silently begging for his friend to forgive him. Malcolm stirred, writhing to escape another blow. Trip shook him gently. "Malcolm, it's me Trip. We gotta get outta here. T'Pol's okay but Dr Phlox looks bad. I need you to help me or we're all gonna die here."

Malcolm wanted to hug Trip he was so relieved to see him, was sure he had been killed. He saw T'Pol and tried to smile in reassurance but he could not manage it. It reminded him of a saying: "The impossible we do right away, miracles take a little longer". Okay. One more miracle coming up.

The Sanacrid led them out of the cave and back on themselves into another cave system. T'Pol was worried that they would get lost, trapped or be caught before they could get away but Trip reassured her. He trusted the Sanacrid and she trusted Trip. The math was simple. They half carried, half dragged Dr Phlox. Before they entered the next cave system the Sanancrid insisted they wash him and bind his wounds as best as they could. Lt Reed frowned wearily. "Why? What's the point?"

T'Pol arched an eyebrow. "We do not want to leave a trail of blood in the caves."

He nodded, feeling stupid. "Sorry. Wasn't thinking."

Trip patted him carefully on the shoulder. None of them had a patch of skin that did not hurt except T'Pol. And for that Trip was infinitely grateful. They paused at a stream and washed Dr Phlox with care, tearing up their shirts to make bandages for him. It was very ad hoc but the best they could do. Then Trip washed himself and helped Malcolm do the same. T'Pol cast a critical eye over them then decided it was the best they could manage. Once in the cave system the Sanacrid took them on a convoluted winding path. Trip had intended to commit the route to memory but after a couple of hours just gave up. They stopped to rest, T'Pol checking the doctor over. He had not stirred or regained consciousness once. Lt Reed sat against the wall and leaned his head back. "We're all going to die." He mumbled then passed out.

T'Pol looked at Trip. He knelt next to her and examined Dr Phlox's wounds. He was bleeding again but for now the makeshift bandages were holding. His heartbeat seemed to be quite strong. "C'mon T'Pol, we should rest while we can and that includes you."

She helped him sit down, his back braced against a wall. She watched his weary face, saw the goodness that shone in him and found her breath catching in her throat. The Sanacrid sat next to Trip and watched. Trip smiled gently. "Thanks."

"What for?"

"Saving my life."

"It wasn't me, Commander, it was..."

"Trip. My name's Trip." He mumbled, fighting to stay conscious. For her.

Then she was sitting next to him, her hands in his. His eyes fastened on hers as if he could not bear to close them in case she vanished when he woke. T'Pol stroked a hand through his dirty blond hair. *I'm not going anywhere, Trip*

He looked surprised. *I can hear ya! I thought it was a dream*

That amused her. He smiled, raised a hand and touched her face gently, his fingertips skimming the surface of her cheek so tenderly. Outlining the planes of her proud face as she finally let down her walls and let him see the love hidden inside. He cried with the sweetness of his joy. His lips touched her softly, a gentle kiss, so loving, so tender. *You should sleep* She echoed in his mind.

He deepened the kiss, unconsciously splaying his hand against the side of her face. The pads of his fingertips instinctively settling on the contact points. Both unaware that the Sanacrid had hopped gently up onto Trip's shoulder and was wrapping his plumed tail around the human's neck. As the kiss extended the Sanacrid deepened it, took the bond they were forming and enhanced it. Carrying them further, deeper and higher than they would have gone alone. They gasped in each others' mouths, hands now seeking flesh, bodies cupped together as their hearts mated in mental fusion. Electricity shot through him, burned through her. A thousand thoughts cascaded through his consciousness, images of her home, her life, her family, her long desert of emptiness. He was her river. Her ocean. Her oasis. He unleashed feelings trapped so deep inside her psyche that she could never have reached them alone. Would not have recognised her own passion if she had.

He was beautiful and to her virgin landscape time ceased to have any meaning or function. There was only him. He smiled and the curved bow of his pleasure rocked her to the core. She wanted him. Needed him. Would die without him. He knew. He understood. And more importantly. He loved.

The Sanacrid watched over them quietly, his symbiotic assistance giving them the strength to complete the path they so desperately needed to be on. T'Pol coaxed Trip on to his back and gently peeled off his clothes. Trying hard not to hurt him but unable to resist this overwhelming desire for him. He did not break off the kiss, nor seek to free himself from the meld. He let her do whatever she wanted, he already had everything he could possibly want or need in his two hands. Everything else was a bonus. Then her hands were on him, stroking him gently but firmly. Rousing him until he was ready to weep for her. *C'mon woman, what's the matter with ya? Wanna see me beg?*

Her laughter rang in his mind like a bell, surprising and startling him with its' beautiful crystal clarity. As he ached with the joy of it she raised her hips and slowly impaled herself on him, his shudder increasing her excitement and need for him as she rocked him deeper and deeper inside her. The heat of her welcoming core sending shudders up his spine as her interior muscles gripped and caressed him. On and on the waves of emotion sailed the tides of their passion. He came with a great rush, body groaning with effort and need, heart expanding to encompass all that she was and all that she could be. His largesse brought tears to her eyes, his gentle lips kissed them dry. She never, ever wanted to be further than this from him. He was human. Not Vulcan. As she spasmed around him again and again she celebrated the difference. Human. Not Vulcan. Thank the Gods. Human. Not Vulcan. *Mine*

* * * * *

It was huge. Never had he seen such a massive ship before. A city in space would take up less room. This thing did not only block out the stars it eclipsed entire planets. Travis's eyes were as round as dinner plates. Captain Archer knew that look was on every face as they stared in horror at the aliens denying them access to the planet below.

"I see it sir, but I don't believe my eyes!"

Archer nodded. Numb. "Nothing would give me greater pleasure that to be a thousand miles from that thing but I am *not* gonna leave our people trapped down there."

No one spoke. They did not have to. How could you even begin to think of fighting something on such a hideous scale? He tried to think of David and Goliath but somehow that did not even come close to reassuring his quailing heart.

"Sir?"

He tore his eyes away from the screen to glance at Hoshi. "Yes, Hoshi?"

"They're hailing us again, sir."

Captain Archer bit back a groan. This was it. The end of life as they knew it. "Put them through."

The same alien visage stared back at him. Impossibly ugly, the sharp angles of its' features considered the human Captain for a moment before speaking. Oddly curious that such a paltry thing as the Enterprise could even dare to defy it. "You did not leave."

"No. I guess I didn't."

"You are either very foolish or very brave. Either way you will soon be very dead."

"I thought you were gonna kill us last time we spoke?"

He heard sharp intakes of breath all around the bridge but ignored them. To his surprise the alien threw back its' head and made a loud choking sound. It took him a few minutes to realise it was laughing. "You stand your ground, puny though you are." It paused, eyes glittering. "What species are you?"

"Tell me who you are and I'll tell you."

Silence. The Captain wondered if he had pushed it too far then the huge angular head inclined towards him a fraction. "Very well. We are Ralcaddons. What are you and from where do you come?"

"We are Humans. My name is Captain Archer and we come from a planet called Earth."

"You said you have crew on this planet?"

"Yes, we do."

"How many are lost?"

"Four."

The alien took a moment to digest the information. Captain Archer was not sure he wanted to go so far as to say it was thinking. "So few to risk so much for, Captain."

"Why are you here?" He dared.

The alien made a rough racking noise. "We have crew on the surface too."

Something in Archer's head clicked. "Did they by any chance crash land?"

Suspicion flickered like a dangerous flame in the alien's eyes. It said nothing.

"I only ask because we came here in response to a distress call we picked up. When we got here we could not hear the signal any more so I sent a small team down to the surface to try to render what help we could. We lost contact with our people. Then there was a massive explosion on the planet surface, not far from where the distress beacon made its' call. I assume that was your people."

"I am surprised you picked up their distress call. Our technology is vastly superior to yours."

"We were just trying to help."

"Why? You do not know my people and I do not know yours."

"What's wrong with trying to do something about that?"

"Do you know why we use this planet?"

The Captain shook his head, not sure where the conversation was leading but glad to be talking rather than fighting a battle they could never win.

"This is our training ground."

"Training ground?"

The Ralcaddon nodded. "Yes. We fight, we train, we catch outsiders and kill them. We practice our techniques of warfare then we leave."

Captain Archer frowned. "What do you mean your techniques of warfare?"

"Methods to make our enemies talk."

"Torture? You mean you torture people?"

"It is a most effective tool of war."

"My people are not at war with your people."

"That is immaterial. You have come to our training grounds. Do not expect us to educate your ignorance, Captain."

* * * * *

Part 3

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