Faith- Part 2

FAITH OF THE HEART"
An "Enterprise" story

By Alison M. DOBELL

RATING: PG for this Chapter, NC-17 for later chapters
ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.
FEEDBACK: Welcomed
EMAIL: AlisonMDobell@aol.com
WEBSITE: http://www.carlajane.50megs.com/Ali00.html

SUMMARY": "When members of the crew go suddenly missing, Captain Archer finds the only witness is unable to tell them anything. Lt Reed takes it upon himself to turn detective."
DISCLAIMER: The characters and 'Enterprise' belong to Paramount. No infringement of copyright is intended.

Part 2

* * * * *

It had been hours and no one had come near them. Sub-Commander T'Pol organised the women with instructions for them to examine every inch of their confinement for any signs of a way out. That had passed the first three hours. Enough to ram home to each and every one of them that they were stuck in this prison until their captors decided to kill or release them. Yet some things were worse than death. T'Pol relieved those last frantic moments on Enterprise. Something had waken her from a deep dreamless sleep. At first she lay with her eyes closed. No movement or change in breathing to signify that she was awake. A subtle stirring of air told her the moment she was not alone. Whoever had entered her quarters had not used the door. As if that were not alarming enough as her eyelids slowly opened a crack she saw huge shapes moving and shifting stealthily around her. Quickly she rolled off her bed and spun into action, using her smaller quicker body to confuse and gain an advantage on the intruders. She managed to toss one and trip another before her good fortune ran out and many hands fastened down on her immobilising her limbs flat on the floor as another hand covered her mouth leaving only her nose free so that she could breathe. T'Pol tried to thrash out, succeeding only in sending her meditation table flying and churning up the neat contents of her small quarters. Then her feet too were pinned.

Panic. It shamed her to recall how she had lost control of herself for precious moments. Realising that she could not call out. Could not reach the com. Had no other means of alerting the rest of the crew and requesting assistance. Then her eyes had widened in mute horror as she beheld her captors. They were large bipedal aliens. What humans would have called 'ugly'. Each stood seven or eight feet tall. Their heavy cruel ribbed and scarred faces showcased black beady eyes filled with a dark intelligence. Three of them held her down, unable to move. The fourth was even larger and more ugly than his fellows. The face crossed with scars poorly attended. He wore them like battle honours. Obviously he was the leader of this little boarding party. She could not even ask what they wanted. Something like humour glittered in the unwholesome shadows of his eyes. She heard a deep gutteral bubbling sound then words broke free in a tongue she could understand. It was Vulcan, but poorly constructed as if the tongue was difficult for the alien to master.

"A pity. You would have made good prey."

The words meant nothing to her. The alien's intent not yet clear. It opened its mouth and she fancied it was mocking her. The leader jerked his head slightly and those holding her pulled apart her pinned limbs, still careful to keep her mouth covered as she tried to squirm. The leader moved closer, began to touch her body. Familiarise himself with her biology in a way that was far too intimate for comfort or propriety. If she had been armed the creature would have been dead the moment he had tried to lay a hand on her. Instead she was forced to suffer the intrusion of sharp fingers and long hard nails, cutting into her flesh as he clumsily felt for the openings that would satisfy his curiosity beneath her sleep suit. A device was passed over her then put away. Some kind of scanner? The alien grunted something unintelligible then inserted a sharp digit suddenly between her legs. T'Pol's eyes widened as she let go of all pretence at control and gave a terrified mind scream. Something she had not done since early childhood and a clear sign of her distress and terror. In her extremis her mind touched something familiar, something she reached for and clung to. Lazy in the way a calm, placid pool is lazy. Gentle in the way a light summer breeze stirs the grasses on a homeworld that was not her own. Sharp scents and laughter, fond thoughts and caresses of the mind forbidden to any of her kind not yet bonded. Her senses were surprised, shocked. For a moment it penetrated her panic and her mind was able to form a conscious thought. Commander Tucker. How had she managed to reach out and touch that particular mind? What was it about the irrational human that formed a tenuous link with her now of all times?

Then she realised what it was. Empathy. Friendship of sorts. A thing that did not happen between Vulcans. He was her friend and one of the many things she had learnt about this most emotional of beings was that he was also very loyal. Perhaps the most empathic towards her. Even when they fought or disagreed an underlying respect lay like a firm foundation between them. He might mock but it was never spiteful. He might insult her but only to tease and sometimes he cursed her in an expression of exasperation. His many moods fascinated her partly because he was so easy to read. His emotions so close to the surface she could have read them while he slept. And now here she was, hammering on the walls of his sub-conscious mind. Intruding on his dreams of home to call him to her nightmare. It was as automatic as it was shocking. She should not be able to do this. He should not be able to respond. But in the moment her fear broke all barriers he became aware of her. His heart pounded, eyes flew open, yet he saw and heard nothing but her. She could not recall whether she had said anything coherent apart from his name. Then they were taping her mouth shut, binding her wrists and ankles. Trussing her up ready to take back with them. Gloating over their prize.

The chime on her door sounded extraordinarily loud to her panicked senses. The intruders froze, a look passed between them and then they retreated to the shadows. She could now hear the Commander banging on her door, his voice urgent and full of concern as he called her name. A moment or two of silence followed then he had the door open. He took a step inside, pulse gun in hand, eyes scanning the mess of her room not sure what he would find. Perhaps he would have stood a chance had his eyes not suddenly lighted on her. A gasp, a murmured swearword and he was running into the room to get to her. She tried to warn him but the tentative link she had forced into his mind as he lay sleeping was as far away from her now as his homeworld was to him. Before he could reach her huge hands gripped him around the throat and lifted him off his feet. The alien shook him. His weapon fell to the floor as the Commander tried to prise the hands from his throat, gasping for breath, neck bleeding from the tightening grip of sharp fingers and nails. Wide eyed and alarmed she watched in consternation as the Commander was thrown the length of her room and slammed with incredible force against the far wall of her room. Tears glistened in her eyes as he slid unconscious to the floor. Mentally apologising to him. Worried that he might be killed. Then her captors gathered next to her and without a word transported her off the ship to wake in this awful place.

T'Pol had never felt so anxious or helpless. Yet these women were looking to her to lead them, to reassure them, to organise a means of escape. Ensign Hoshi Sato watched her closely but knew not to intrude on the Vulcan's thoughts. She read her body language and knew that despite what others might think the Sub-Commander had feelings and emotions every bit as deep and passionate as her human colleagues. Seeing the Vulcan forcing herself to calm down and regain a measure of control, Hoshi thought not for the first time how useful that ability was. Even now she could see the others responding to the Vulcan's lead. Burying their terror and trying to regain function of their senses as they tried to emulate her. Hoshi approved. She turned her head to find Lt Anna Hess watching her. "What's going on, Hoshi?"

Hoshi dropped her voice. "When they grabbed you, did they... I mean were they.... had they...."

Lt Hess nodded. "Their nails were sharp, dirty and like chips of slate. I have cuts which could only be duplicated in childbirth."

Coming right out and saying it turned all heads. The Sub-Commander's included. T'Pol's eyes narrowed slightly. Saying it out loud would not calm the younger women. In fact, the opposite would be true. As her disapproving eyes met those of Commander Tucker's second, she found a calm unwavering will observing her back. Not with insubordination but simple truth.

"I will not lie, Sub-Commander. The sooner we are all aware of what is at stake the sooner we can bend our backs to getting the hell out of here."

The Sub-Commander looked at her for a moment then raised her head and nodded realising the practical engineer was correct. "You are right, lieutenant. You are an engineer. Find me a weakness we can exploit. We may not have any tools but we still have our wits. It is time we used them."

* * * * *

Lt Reed had finished his preliminary investigation. Only Sub-Commander T'Pol had been able to put up any kind of resistance. It appeared the others had all been taken in varying guises. Not all had been sleeping. The abductors had shown a startling knowledge of where each of them were and chosen their moments to act with both care and precision. All of the women had been alone at the time they were seized. How had the enemy managed to do that or had they been aboard for some time awaiting their moment to strike? And why take them all during the same time period? It bespoke an advanced form of planning that ruled out a random attack. The more he thought about it the less he liked it and he had started out unhappy enough. He needed to bring both his findings and lack of findings to the Captain's attention. Something he was not looking forward to.

With a sigh he made his way straight to the infirmary knowing that the Captain would not stray far from his incapacitated friend. Thoughts of Commander Tucker in a coma further depressed him. To his surprise the Captain was not in sickbay when he arrived. Dr Phlox had changed the Commander's drip and was checking his biosigns when he looked up and smiled benignly at the lieutenant. "Ah, Lieutenant."

Lieutenant Reed's eyes flicked to rest on the Commander. Sadness finely chiseled in the delicate features of his face. "How is he doing?"

Dr Phlox tried to sound cheerful and upbeat but the drag on his optimism was obvious if muted. "No change, I'm afraid."

"What about the head injury?"

"Ah!" The doctor visibly brightened as if thrown a life line. "The fracture is healing well and the wound has closed. I have managed to bring down the swelling inside the brain so any internal damage has been minimised." He paused. "It is a little too early however to tell if there will be any permanent brain damage."

The lieutenant tried to hide his shock, his face paling. "Brain damage?"

"I use the term in its widest sense, lieutenant. I am still hoping he will regain consciousness."

He nodded, not able to think of any answer to that. Dr Phlox noticed the PADD in the lieutenant's hand and correctly surmised that he had not originally come to sickbay just to see the Commander. "I believe the Captain retired to his quarters for a little rest. You can find him there."

"No, I won't disturb him. If you don't mind I'd like to sit with the Commander for a little while."

The doctor nodded then moved away to see to his eclectic menagerie. When he was out of earshot Lt Reed pulled a chair next to the bed and sat quietly. He looked down at Commander Tucker's still face, his expression sad but thoughtful. Without realising it he found himself musing over the facts out loud. As if on some level his friend could hear him and draw comfort from his presence. "I've been over the Sub-Commander's quarters with a fine toothcomb, Trip. I think I've managed to piece together what happened but we're still in the dark as to exactly what and who we are dealing with." He paused and glanced at his PADD, scrolling through his notes. "It seems obvious to me that you had been sleeping in your quarters." A little baffled look pinched the corners of his eyes but did not interrupt his spoken thoughts. "Somehow you realised T'Pol needed help. You grabbed the closest clothes you could find and slipped on your sweat pants, grabbed a pulse gun..." His voice warmed with approval at that bit of forward thinking. "...then hurried to her quarters. Judging by the state of the place, there had been a fairly violent struggle before you got there. You stepped inside T'Pol's quarters and saw her trussed up with tape. Instinctively you ran over to help her and was attacked. Presumably by the same beings who abducted the Sub-Commander."

He paused and looked at his friend's pale face. Breathing shallow. A faint mist of perspiration on the comatose man's face. He tried to remember whether Trip had been sweating when he came into sickbay. He shook the thought off as irrelevant. Annoyed with himself for getting sidetracked.

"I wish you could tell me what happened. Who or what these aliens are. What they are after and how they managed to slip passed our defenses. Obviously they were cloaked and judging by how easily they got on board Enterprise and left they must have some kind of transporter technology." Lieutenant Reed shook his head in a fanciful fashion. "I am really beginning to hate advanced alien technologies."

Lieutenant Reed sighed and patted Trip on the shoulder with clumsy affection. "You rest and get well, Trip. I'm counting on your help to find T'Pol and the others."

He was about to get to his feet when he heard a low murmur. He froze. Heart beginning to beat rapidly. "Trip? Trip, can you hear me?"

The groan multiplied into little vocal leaks of pain. Relief and anxiety reflected on the lieutenant's sensitive face. He put his hand back on the Commander's shoulder, an instinctive need to have contact with him, to ground his friend in what would no doubt be a painful awakening. A long low murmur of pain brought the lieutenant's ear close to the Commander's mouth. He held his breath the better to hear him.

"T...T'Pol....aliens.....t...t...trans..ported off th'ship."

Excitement flared with hope in the Armoury Officer's heart. Not only was the Commander speaking but he was coherent and making sense. "What else, Trip? What did they look like?"

Another pained mumble. His head stirred slightly against the pillow but the eyes did not open. Lieutenant Reed resisted the urge to shake him.

"Trip? Please, for T'Pol, for everyone. Try to remember. What did the bastards look like?"

His English precision seemed to penetrate the Commander's slowly surfacing foggy thoughts. A point of focus he could hang on to, however fleeting as the fog cleared. "Butt ugly, Malcolm..."

"That's not a very helpful description, Trip." Snipped Lieutenant Reed primly.

Something that could have been a soft snort of humour huffed out of the Commander's mouth but then his face contorted in pain and his breathing became stilted and difficult. Lt Reed raised his head and shouted. "Doctor! Come quickly the Commander is in distress!"

Within seconds Dr Phlox hurried over to them, joy and concern at odds on his face. Happy to see the Commander trying to regain consciousness but alarmed by how much pain he was in. He got a hypospray and injected the painkiller directly into the side of Trip's neck. Straight into an artery. Trip was resisting his attempts to calm him down, his eyelids fluttering as if trying to open them. "Calm down, Commander. You have to rest, do not distress yourself."

Commander Tucker took no notice, getting more distressed not less. Dr Phlox looked at Lt Reed. "What did you say to him?"

"I didn't say anything..."

Just then the Commander's voice came through much stronger. His eyes snapped open and fastened on Lt Reed's anxious face. "M...Mal..colm. H...h...help T'Pol."

Lt Reed ignored the doctor and took the hand Trip raised to grip the front of his tunic. "Take it easy, Trip. Try to speak slowly and clearly. Who took Sub-Commander T'Pol and the others?"

For a moment he looked completely baffled. "Others? W...what others?"

The lieutenant swallowed hard and looked at the doctor. Commander Tucker did not know that almost all the women crew members had been abducted bar three. "Um, the Sub-Commander was not the only one abducted Trip."

"She wasn't?" He slurred, voice thick with confusion.

"No." Lieutenant Reed found it hard to get passed the lump in his throat but at last he did it. "They also took Hoshi. Nearly all the women crew are gone, Trip."

Ragged breaths punctuated pained lungs. He felt terrible. Weak, nauseous and in pain but worse than that was the fact that he had not been able to protect T'Pol. Because he had gone rushing in like John Wayne they had lost her. *He* had lost her. He closed his eyes on pain and guilt. The agony in his heart giving the pain in his head a run for its' money.

* * * * *

Before any of them could locate a weakness in their prison the aliens returned. Sub-Commnader T'Pol was not sure but thought that the one in front was the same scarred leader who had overseen her own abduction. The memory was a far from happy one. She could hear the others moving back, anxious sounds in the back of their throats dying away to nothing. T'Pol was silent, her large liquid eyes fastened on the leader. Some dark fathomless humour touched him then vanished. He turned to his men and began issuing orders in a language they could not understand. T'Pol whipped her head round as they parted round her and began selecting women, easily plucking them out of their holding cell to carry them away. T'Pol glared at him.

"What are you doing with them? I demand you return us to Enterprise!"

The alien threw back its' head and laughed then adjusted its' vocal chords. "Do you know why I kept you?"

"A wish perhaps for a slow and painful death."

Again the creature made a bubbling cackle in its throat. "I am Kaarg and you will service me."

Shock then fear pummelled into her slight frame. She took an involuntary step back. "I will not."

The creature hardly seemed to have to move more than a step to bring itself back within her reach. He casually plucked her off the ground and wrapped an arm around her before she could perform any more of her world's martial arts. "You are feisty, a warrior. I respect that."

"Then if you are also a warrior," Bit out T'Pol when she found she could not struggle. "You will face me in battle not like this."

Real regret sounded in the creature's voice. "I am sorry to deny you your birthright but now you must serve a greater need."

"Where are your females?"

"On our homeworld."

"Then if you return home you will please everyone."

The creature was walking swiftly now. Not taking her into some other cave but nearer the surface. She could see the way the tunnels were getting lighter. In the last cave was a huge carved opening within which sat the ugliest ship she had ever seen. Somehow it seemed fitting that it would be theirs. "Where are you taking me?"

"I am the Captain therefore I have the privacy of my ship."

Her heart thudded. "You intend to rape me?"

"You will be impregnated, yes."

"And the others?"

He made a strange sound then said, "Yes. All."

"What about after you have mated?"

If he was surprised at her clinical questions he did not show it. They had almost reached the ship. "Once the seed has taken root you will incubate the fetus."

"*After* the child is born."

He did not seem to want to look at her and she read that as shame.

"You intend to kill us, don't you?"

Angrily he swung her down to her feet and glared right into her face. "If we did not mate with you we would kill you in battle. Is there any other way?"

"You could show *some* honour and let us go."

He looked at her hard for several moments. "You are a poison sting in the tail."

Somehow his comment reminded her of Trip calling her a 'pain in the ass'. But he had later softened the sharpness of his retort by adding that she was *his* pain in the ass, as if that made a difference. She lifted her head in a haughty fashion. "Then at least in one thing you chose well."

* * * * *

Captain Archer could not keep the smile off his face. The relief so evident he almost cried. Lieutenant Reed stood up and moved next to his Captain. Dr. Phlox beamed happily, a hypospray in his hands. All three of them watched as the Chief Engineer mumbled off to sleep again.

"What did Trip tell us?"

"The Commander was only aware of T'Pol's disappearance, Captain. It was a quite a shock when I told him about Hoshi and the others."

The doctor nodded, his expression becoming somewhat solemn. "I do not want him unnecessarily distressed, Captain. Badgering the Commander would be worse than counter-productive it would be cruel. I will not allow that. Not when there is the chance of him making excellent progress."

He looked at the doctor in surprise. "I would never do anything to hurt Trip or any other member of this crew, doctor. But I also have to find out as much as I can about what happened. We have to get our crew back."

"I understand your position Captain. Fortunately mine is a lot more clear cut. Within these walls the patient comes first."

Captain Archer nodded. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

The doctor looked at him, said nothing. Watched as the Captain's eye drifted back to Trip. Knew he was going to settle in that chair again and remain for who knows how long this time? Dr Phlox stepped passed the Captain and retrieved the chair, removing it from temptation. Captain Archer frowned, his temper rising but held tightly in check. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Ensuring everyone gets some much needed rest, Captain. And that includes you." He said in a calm, polite voice. His expression brooked no argument. "A position which, if I heard correctly, is endorsed by the Captain of this ship."

The Captain looked hard at him. Annoyed. Lt Reed tried to keep a straight face. "I just wanted to sit with Trip for a while, doctor." Said the Captain, biting off each word with forced civility.

"I know that Captain but that is not the point. Commander Tucker will be able to get some much needed rest and if you go back to your quarters so will you."

"I can do that here, doctor."

"No, you most certainly cannot."

Startled bushy brows rose over a picture of confusion. His anger momentarily forgotten. "What?"

"I have been observing you, Captain. When you come to visit Mr Tucker you sit by his bedside. You fidget and fawn on him. You talk aloud, telling him stories of home and the things you still want to do. You tell him your problems, urge him to get well quick so he can solve them for you..."

The Captain looked part hurt and part indignant. "That's not how it is..."

The Doctor continued his observations ignoring the Captain's interruption. "He may look comatose. He may seem to have slipped into a genuine sleep but how much of that peripheral comfort is crumbled away by your insistence on forcing some kind of reaction out of him? Do not deny it, Captain. I have seen you squeeze his hand and wait for a squeeze back, brush the hair from his eyes and hope the skim of your hand across his face will 'accidentally' wake him. The soft scrape of your chair, the creak as you keep moving to adjust your postion, the weight of a hand on his bed or chest. What is this constant need that humans have to touch? Let the man sleep, Captain. Do not keep badgering him for reassurances. Let him rest or I will only allow you to enter sickbay during strict visiting hours and will exclude you the rest of the time."

A plethora of emotions paraded across the Captain's face. Embarrassed and somewhat chastened. Was he that transparent? Had he really been disturbing his friend's rest so much? He knew he was anxious and restless but had not thought it could possibly affect a man already in a coma. Perhaps the doctor was right and he should just let him sleep? Perhaps on a subliminal level his fidgeting and fretting were disturbing the quality of rest he needed so desperately. Thinking about his friend and what was best for his recovery the Captain found his anger had vanished. He did not have to spend every moment off the bridge sitting in sickbay with Trip. After all, he had the doctor doing everything but riding shotgun over him. That image brought a smile to his lips. Lieutenant Reed had expected him to fly into a frustrated rage with Dr Phlox but seeing the humour reassert itself allowed himself to carefully breathe out again. He had no desire to lock the doctor in the brig.

"You're right, Dr Phlox. Thank you for talking some much needed sense into me. I know the Commander will be in good hands."

Dr Phlox nodded and gave a happy smile. "Indeed he will."

Once they were gone Dr Phlox went back to his scans of the Commander's brain. Interesting. Highly unusual. He crossed his arms and studied the schematics of a living human brain. The Commander should have suffered major trauma. He himself had taken measures to reduce the swelling behind the occipital lobe. Expected to see more damage once the swelling had gone down easing the pressure off the brain. Rest would do much to heal the body but brain damage was much trickier. More intricate and critical. What he was seeing now was a kind of miracle that did not add up. He flicked through various other angles and mused over what he was seeing then carefully compared the recent scans with the earlier ones. Yes. He had been right. There *had* been brain damage. He frowned and went back to comparing them. What he was looking at now. To his baffled joy and total stupefaction. Was a perfectly healthy and normal brain. No damage. No signs of heavy bruising. Even though the fractured skull had been knitting back together nicely it now could not be detected at all. Not even down to a hairline crack in the cranial wall.

Dr Phlox made a thoughtful face, pushed out his bottom lip and wondered if humans secreted substances he was unaware of. Chemicals inside the brain which could account for the seamless self repair. When the Commander finally woke tomorrow he would have quite a conundrum to solve. He just hoped the Commander would be able to help him understand this particular mystery before the Captain whisked him away to help recover the missing crew. He had put the Captain off for now and it was true the Commander did need to rest, but he was not yet ready to tell the Captain his findings. No doubt Captain Archer would give him all the credit for being his physician but a smart man does not accept accolades he has not earned unless they are qualified. He looked away from the scans at last and looked quietly at the man sleeping on the biobed. It would be a long night waiting for the Commander to wake up and give him some answers.

* * * * *

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