Faith-Part 12

"FAITH OF THE HEART"
An "Enterprise" story

By Alison M. DOBELL

RATING: NC-17.
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 12

* * * * *

Dreaming. That was it. She had to be dreaming. Only the landscape of her mind felt hollow. She reached. She longed. She sought with every trapped emotion of her truncated life. Still the emptiness yawned back at her. Not quiet mocking. A deep dark hole in her heart. Fear rippled on that fathomless opening but something else, far more tentative, shimmered and held back the final sense of loss. Of abandonment. Unable to remain fixed on a single thought, her mind drifted. She thought of Trip. Wondered what had happened. Why she could no longer reach him. Touch him with her mind. It frightened her. Desolated her in ways that were too self destructive to grasp in her crumbling Vulcan mindset. *Trip, where are you? What happened?*

More drugs. More chemical compounds. A swirling cocktail of hallicinogens. Painkillers and pain-givers. Where was Trip? Why did she have to go through this alone?

Another consciousness carefully stayed in the shadows. Released its' effect so slowly that she was unaware. Assuming drugs were responsible for the numbing of her physical pain. Her torn and poorly sutured wounds eased into seamless repair. Her mind soothed and drifting. Distracted. Trying to grasp the pain that had held her conscious enough to be aware of him when he had come. So briefly their lips had touched. She had bathed in the memory of his fleeting warmth. Yet their hearts were joined forever. *Trip, don't leave me. Never leave me. I cannot survive without you. Do not want to survive without you. Not now. Not ever*

Calm, caring, and so seductive was the other presence. She knew it not but it knew her. Intimately. Cared because he cared. Loved because he loved. Knew compassion because of their love. On some level she knew she was not alone but in her fevered senses thought it was the product of her imagining. Her desires over riding rational thought. Pushing passed the bounds of possibility and forgetting that in the now of eternity nothing is a fixed element. The complex action and interaction of all sentience producing an ever changing tapestry. A place where no matter how dim and dark life seemed hope itself could never die. But hope was not what she was clinging to. The absence of her anchor had taken her heart with it. Nothing mattered now. She did not want to live without him yet could not die. They pumped more drugs into her. Read their countless readings, took more scans and shook baffled heads. At last they left her bruised body and soul and set guards upon the door, both within and without. As if a comatose dying Vulcan would care one way or another. But the other cared. Stirred so softly within her it was like a sigh. Her mind was a deepening fog. The presence did not clear it but used it as camouflage. Loved her so gently, distracting her with memories so bright they dazzled her inner eye. Tore her heart open with a glimpse of all she had lost. Not lost, the presence urged deep in her unconscious. She was in a maze of death. Life was hidden from her. Thought was a bizarre form of torture that made no sense. Had no logic.

Then she felt it. A single clear androgynous thought. *Do not think, feel*

Sluggish she fought to form a single question in her mind. *Who are you?*

*Feel*

The struggle to question the entity was impossible to sustain. *I am Vulcan. I am guided by logic not emotions*

*Feel*

*Feelings are unimportant*

*Feel. Reach out. Touch* A long sussurated pause. *Live*

T'Pol could not struggle any more. Her brief spark of curiosity was lagging. The presence became bolder out of necessity. If he could not rouse her she would die.

*Trip needs you*

Her brain juddered as all her thoughts and senses homed in on a single word as if she had been electrocuted. *Trip?*

*Help him*

*I'm dying. Go away*

*I will not let you die*

Was that a sense of shock? Horror? T'Pol was not sure what to think. What to feel. Could she feel? Could the heart still beat when it had been ripped out bleeding and pumping the last vestiges of green blood until, exsanguinated, even that muscle was beyond function? *Trip...* Her mind murmured. Her soul ached with sorrow, longing and need.

He fastened on her need. Amplified it until it was a burning pain that lit every cell in her body with the bright agony of her loss. Tears bled from sightless eyes. She slowly tossed her head but there was no escape. *Why are you doing this?*

*You know why. They will kill him*

*Who?*

*The Vulcans*

*What?*

The presence tried again. Trying to be gentle but knowing they were all running out of time. *They are torturing him*

Automatically the Sub-Commander responded. An old argument now lost. *Vulcans don't torture people*

*These do. Fight T'Pol. Fight for Trip. For love. For reason. For everything that once made you proud of who and what you are*

*Pride is an emotion* She managed at last to respond but it was hard to know who she was trying to convince. She sensed a smile wash through her. It reminded her so much of Trip her heart wept anew.

*So is love* Said the Sanacrid gently. As the depth of her sorrow washed through her, the presence flooded her with love. Caressed her mind with memories they had shared. All the fragile moments of first contact that had gone by so fleetingly yet blossomed between them. The tiny fledgling seed planted in their unknowing hearts. She drank in every look upon his face. Every wonderful foolish word that had tumbled from his nonsensical human lips. Every gentle touch and caring gesture. The mocking humour of his love shining in his eyes. Shaming the stars he loved so much. Every gift of the heart given so freely. *Feel* Urged the Sanacrid, infinitely more gentle now. No longer in hiding. *Reach out to him with your love while there is still time. And save him, T'Pol. Save us all*

* * * * *

He surfaced incredibly slowly, his languid mind content to float and use its buoyancy to approach through perfuse desire the calm assurance of consciousness. There were many uses for the state of hibernation. The lowering of body temperature and lifesigns. Dr. Phlox was Denobulan. His body chemistry was wholly unlike that of his human friends and nothing at all like that of Vulcans. When they sought to put him under for a second time all the alarm bells inside his head rang at once. Not a beautiful melodic sound calling the faithful to prayer but a brash cacophony of senses all on high alert and clashing in their panic to warn him. He was a subtle man. Gentle, caring and respecting of all life. On all levels. Now his bright academic brain was assessing what he had already garnered and the new information flooding into his thought processes as he mulled over his best course of action.

The drugs the Vulcans were using had been selected for their effectiveness on humans. It was a lucky mischance that in their eagerness to mindwipe the humans they had overlooked the Denobulan's unique physiology. His plunge into the hibernatory state had first puzzled then pleased them. Dr. Lerik had thought he was dying, having a strong adverse reaction to the drugs. Dispassionately Dr. Phlox reviewed each of his conversations with them. The odd little asides that seemed so unlike the Vulcans normally staid and stuffy characteristics. Now he recognised it for what it was. Nerves. They were close to a state of total panic over something but what? Why trick the humans into coming to this facility? Why drug them and seek to change the nature of their perceptions right down to their memories? What were they seeking to hide?

His curiosity fully roused, the doctor cracked open one eye, just a touch, the lights were muted but bright to him nonetheless. Very little movement could he detect. Was this a sleep cycle? Had night fallen on this obscure planet? He opened his other eye a crack. That confirmed it. No one was near his biobed. He turned his head slowly, keeping his eyes partly closed so he could mimic sleep if his movement alerted anyone. It did not. Now he opened his eyes fully and realised with a start that the huge hangar was empty of medical staff. All the biobeds were occupied by Enterprise crew but not a single Vulcan was in sight. Not pausing to question his good fortune Dr Phlox sat up and removed the IV line and sensors taped to his skin. He was relieved to see that he was still clothed. Quickly and quietly he slipped off the biobed and took his first good look around, automatically putting names to faces as he went from biobed to biobed. He could have roused them all but was unwilling, not knowing how far they were into the Vulcan programme. He did not want to cause more damage than could be prevented yet he also needed allies. Someone who would remain cool and calm and help him find a way out of this current mess.

Where was the Captain? He could not see him yet, so he pressed on, pausing when he caught sight of Lieutenant Reed. Ah. Now there was a calm cool head he could rely on. The doctor went over to his monitor and took some readings. Taking his time to make sure that waking the lieutenant would not cause him additional harm. The heart rate was a little too rapid for the Denobulan's liking and there seemed to be abnormal brain activity but there was no time to be choosy. He either did this alone or took the risk of waking him. He sucked his bottom lip and made a decision. Better to wake the lieutenant and take that chance than find and wake the Captain and increase the nature of the risk. He sighed. Hated choosing, as if Mr. Reed was more expendable than Captain Archer but in the brutal reality of real life that was the painful truth. Pushing back his own mental objections he disconnected Lieeutenant Reed from the monitor and removed his IV. Gently he woke him, sorry that he no longer had any of his medical accoutrements to aid him.

It took several minutes to rouse him but as he sluggishly began to wake, the doctor put a hand over the lieutenant's mouth. The Tactical Armoury Officer went immediately from barely conscious to totally conscious, eyes snapping open already in focus. Before Dr Phlox could react, Lieutenant Reed had rolled off the biobed to his feet and had the good doctor in a choke hold. Less than a couple of heartbeats later, a rather sheepish looking lieutenant was trying to apologise for his actions whilst also struggling to clear the fog from his brain. "I... I'm sorry doctor. I was disorientated." A moment's pause then an anxious frown. "What's going on?"

Dr Phlox smiled with delight, his startling blue eyes twinkling despite their situation. "That is quite all right, lieutenant. Your response to waking stimuli is quite admirable. I see I made the correct choice."

"Choice?"

"I need your help lieutenant."

Fully cognisant now, the lieutenant slowly cast his eyes around him. Taking in all the silent biobeds, his expression becoming grim as he finished his initial assessment and settled his bright intelligent eyes on the Denobulan. "What is really going on here, Dr Phlox?"

"I believe the Vulcans are intending to brainwash this crew, lieutenant. I need your help to find out why."

The lieutenant nodded. "Agreed but why don't we wake the others first?"

"I was trying to limit any harmful effects." Said the doctor tactfully.

A light flicker of humour danced in the lieutenant's eye as understanding dawned. His words were dry. "Better to lose a Lieutenant than a Captain?"

There was no accusation. No rancour. Dr Phlox nodded. "Quite."

"Well I'm all right, doctor. Still have two arms, two legs, and as far as I can tell the brain is still functioning."

The smile flattened on the doctor's face. "I am not concerned with your brain function, lieutenant."

His eyebrows rose slowly in a mix of mild surprise and curiosity. "You're not?"

"No," Said Dr Phlox flatly. It was time to be blunt. "I am interested in how much you can remember."

* * * * *

The ripple in space was huge. Stars swallowed up in its invisible shadow. Approaching the planet slowly. So many silent voices fixated with echoes of what they had once been. The memory of what was. The implaccable certainty of what would come to be. Driven like some impassive ghost patience was a quality that typified its endurance. The shudder as it passed a testament to an implaccable will. Fear echoed in its wake. Darkness quailed before it and even the melancholy of space held its collective breath.

* * * * *

Chief Medical Technician Sha'kith could be ruthless when he had to be. Single minded in his determination. Dr. Lerik agreed with him but was beginning to feel the stirrings of disquiet. The human was in great distress. Apart from the increased medication, Sha'kith had brought him to the brink of consciousness and was forcing a mind meld on him. His strong mental ability boring through the flagging human consciousness, his resistance weakened by drugs. His mind recoiling from the fierce thrust with its' rapier sharp incursions setting off pains in his head that threatened to shatter coherent consciousness. Dr. Lerik was tempted to caution Sha'kith to be less hasty. Be gentle with the human. But he did not want to be on the receiving end of the Intelligence Officer's wrath. This was his facility. His pet project. The power he wielded behind the scenes was immeasurable. The power he wielded here on Rastak was absolute.

The Commander had no warning of what was about to happen. When they came for him he was given something which acted so quickly on his system that his knees had buckled and his eyes rolled back in his head then strong hands dragged him away from the Sub-Commander. His only thought had been for T'Pol. Nothing else mattered. Now he was finding his nervous system being tinkered with, his mind broken down with drugs, his body strapped down and alien hands on him doing he knew not what. Then a hand had reached for him, fingers splaying against his cheek, reaching for the contact points. He tried to struggle but the strength of the mental intrusion was so sudden and harsh it made him cry out. Pain radiated from the touch, his mind buckling as he tried so hard to resist. *Tell me what you did, human. What you did and what you saw*

Trip struggled, the breath in his lungs almost gagging him. He grit his teeth. *Fuck you!*

The term meant nothing to Sha'kith but he gathered the sense from his presence in Trip's mind. Now he had breached the failing defences he allowed himself a moment of smugness. *Pitiful, that is what your species is, Commander. Do you know I can rape you with the merest touch of my mind? My thoughts to your thoughts*

The Commander's body shuddered, his mind on the verge of panic. Heart rate increasing as he tried to find a way out. He fought against the restraints, tried to block his thoughts from his tormentor but nothing he did had any effect. As exhaustion forced him to slow his resistance, the Vulcan Chief Medical Technician anticipated his victory. Sliding callous thoughts inside the Commander's mind. Trip shuddered. It made him feel dirty, used. The thoughts pressed, stroked and sparked off memories. Memories so beautiful his heart ached to have them despoiled by this man. His enemy.

*I am not your enemy, 'Trip'*

Soothed Sha'kith as he made the memories replay over and over in slow motion while he touched him. Every thought he had ever shared with Sub-Commander T'Pol. He fancied he could feel dirty hands on his body, an exaggerated sensation of physical motion that replused both mind and body. Sha'kith seemed to feed off his reaction, get a rush of pleasure from violating the other man. Trip struggled to form thoughts to fight back, however weakly he would resist him. *Get your filthy thoughts outta my head*

*You bonded with a Vulcan...* The mild thought paused, another touch brushed Trip's thoughts, a little more pressure sliding deeper triggered a more exotic memory for him to play with. Trip and T'Pol making love. A smile from Sha'kith's mind pierced the memory but Trip could not shut the Vulcan out. *...once*

It took a moment for his senses to catch up to that last word. *Once?*

Another mental touch. He shook, shivered. Shocked and revolted but powerless to stop the onslaught.

*Why not again?* Sha'kith murmured deepening his contact and his control.

The scream that tore from the human's throat both terrified and haunted Dr. Lerik. What in the name of Surak was Sha'kith doing to the human? He should stop this but his own fear imprisoned him. If he could not stop him he should leave, but Dr. Lerik knew that if he showed any sign that he was not one hundred per cent behind Sha'kith it would spell his own doom. When you swam with crocodiles it was too late to wish you had pulled their teeth before climbing in the water. What had he done? The human screamed again. A higher more pain and terror filled pitch this time. His body flexing up off the table with the frantic struggle to escape what was happening to him. To break free of his restraints. Dr. Lerik closed his eyes but could not hide from his shame. His sorrow. As he listened to the human's suffering, his cries becoming whimpers trailing off into agony, he tried to block out the memory of Sha'kith gloating. He was so repulsed it took an effort of will not to be physically sick. He shuddered. Mentally apologised to the Commander. Wished there were a way to turn back the passage of time and undo all that had been done. Not just to Trip but to the entire crew of Enterprise. To their Vulcan Sub-Commander T'Pol. To the whole fragile concept of a Human and Vulcan alliance. They were allies. Yet they did terrible things in the perversion of self interest.

Dr. Lerik opened his eyes reluctantly. Dreading what he would see. The Commander was relatively quiet now. His blue eyes wide and glassy. Sha'kith still held him in the mind meld, forcing the human's mind to remain open to him. Tears ran down Trip's cheeks. He was almost silent now, tiny sounds escaping from his tight throat every now and then like some obscene punctuation. Misery telegraphed in every taut line of his disabused body reflecting the trauma of his fragmenting mind. Sha'kith was intent, his eyes never wavering from the human's as he probed deeper and deeper. The human was shuddering soundlessly now. The tremors of his distress growing deeper. Saliva dribbled from the side of his mouth. Occasionally his body twitched as the eyes grew more and more vacant. The bright spark of intelligence growing dull. A light being forever extinquished. Dr. Lerik felt his mouth go dry as he watched. His heart palpitating as if in sympathy. Unable to avert his horrified gaze. Sha'kith was killing the human. This was no accident. No sudden loss of control but a cold deliberate act. Murder. How could he merely stand by and watch? How could he risk his own life by doing anything else? It was several minutes before he became aware that his own cheeks were wet with tears. He had a hard time divining whether he was crying for the human or for what he himself had become.

* * * * *

The first scream froze them in place. Both intuitively recognised as human. Lieutenant Reed did not hesitate but started running, dodging between the biobeds with an anxious Dr. Phlox doing his best to keep up. Trying to inject caution into the Tactical Armoury Officer. They were almost at the end of the huge hangar by the time the second scream pierced the air. Lieutenant Reed's heart faltered. What the bloody hell was going on? This time the Denobulan did not try to reason with the lieutenant. His own concern heightening. Lieutenant Reed had been surprised to find he still had his phaser. Obviously the Vulcans had become over confident. As he wound through the corridors on light but nimble feet, he automatically changed the setting from stun to kill. If the doctor noticed he showed no sign.

There were two guarded doors when Lieutenant Reed rounded the last turn. Without slowing he pre-empted them with a brief flash of phaser fire taking out the guards. Now he just needed to know behind which door the tortured soul was being held. He heard muffled cries and darted passed the first door to the second. He paused by the closed door and glanced at Dr Phlox. The doctor nodded to show that he was ready. Steeling himself, Lieutenant Reed opened the door and peeled off to the right, his phaser ready. He had no time to check whether the doctor had been sensible enough to move aside as the door swung open. For a stretched eternal second, he could only stare in abject horror at the nightmare scene. Commander Tucker was strapped down and appeared to be in some kind of mind meld with the Chief Medical Technician, Sha'kith. Only this was no happy meeting of minds. Whatever Sha'kith was doing was not benifitting the Commander. Sha'kith flicked his eyes up at the interruption then gave an evil grin. A truly unsettling thing to see on the face of a Vulcan.

"You come too late if you come to save him."

Those words were enough to inflame Malcolm Reed into action. The phase fire caught Sha'kith in the right shoulder cauing him to cry out before he could stop himself. The lieutenant being careful not to catch Trip with his phaser fire. Only She'kith's link to Commander Tucker kept him in place. Sha'kith hissed at the pain but would not let go. Dr. Lerik had not moved and appeared to be in deep shock. Dr. Phlox moved carefully into the room but stayed in the lieutenant's shadow. He did not want to get accidentally shot before he could see to the Commander. Lieutenant Reed's lips peeled back, eyes glinting hard as steel. "Step away from him!"

Sha'kith shook his head slightly. "He is almost gone. Nothing you can do."

The lieutenant started to move forward intending to put his phase pistol to the side of Sha'kith's head. Give him one last warning then pull the trigger. He was too incensed to be disturbed by how much that thought appealed to him. Sha'kith was hurting his friend, intending to kill him. What else did he need to know? He was unexpectedly stopped in his tracks by the sudden entrance of Sub-Commander T'Pol. She rushed into the room. Her eyes were wide with panic. Sha'kith noticed that the lieutenant was looking in surprise at something behind him. Before he could to see what it was his head was clasped between two cold hands. A sudden piercing pain clawed through his mind and broke his hold on Commander Tucker. The human visibly sagged, glassy eyes glazed over then closed. Dr Phlox hurried over to Trip's side and began to check him for life signs. T'Pol ignored everybody. Her fury ripping through Sha'kith like the wrath of God. He began to scream but the sound degenerated quickly into bubbles as if he was drowning. In a way he was. So intense was T'Pol's anger that she liquified the Chief Medical Technician's brain. Only when his lifesigns failed did she release her hold on him and let the body fall to the ground. For a split second Dr Phlox and Lieutenant Reed just stared at her in shock then they returned their attention to the Commander, concern uppermost in hearts and minds.

"How did you...?" Began Lieutenant Reed, then he shook his head to abort the question. Time enough for that later. *If* there was a later.

Without speaking, T'Pol moved to take the position vacated by Sha'kith. Lieutenant Reed dragged the body to one side then noticed Dr. Lerik. The man had been so quiet and motionless that with everything else going on his presence had hardly registered. The lieutenant silently berated himself for his laxity but a closer look at Dr. Lerik told him he need not have bothered. The Vulcan doctor was having a crisis of his own. Unless he was much mistaken there were tears in his eyes. "What was he doing to the Commander, Dr. Lerik?"

The reply came out almost in sobs. Broken things that he struggled to string together into a coherent explanation. "K...killing him. M... m... mind meld." He was shaking his head now. "Shouldn't have happened..."

"No, it shouldn't." Said the lieutenant in a clipped angry tone.

"No." Dr. Lerik shook his head again, seeming a little more focused now. "Bonded."

Lieutenant Reed looked momentarily confused. "Bonded?"

"The C... commander and..." He pointed.

The lieutenant turned his head slightly and saw that he was pointing to Trip and T'Pol. The Vulcan gently placed her hand on the side of Trip's face, the pads of her fingers settling over the contact points, her eyes on the human so close to the point of death it scared her. She murmured something Lieutenant Reed could not catch then gently rested her forehead against Trip's and closed her eyes. Lieutenant Reed looked at Dr. Phlox. He had never seen the Denobulan look so sad. The doctor walked over to Lieutenant Reed and spoke softly, not wanting to disturb Sub-Commander T'Pol. His heart sorrowing at the news he must impart.

"The Commander is dying, lieutenant." He said softly.

Funny. But in the praeternatural quiet of the torture room, he could have sworn he heard more than one heart breaking.

* * * * *

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Two folks have made comments

PLEASE don't let him die!!!

You're doing a great job with this story. I'm loving it and can't wait to read more.
Please hurry and write more.
Oh, and please don't let Trip die, that wouldn't be much fun.