Fragile- Part 4

Fragile Universe
An "Enterprise" story

By Alison M. DOBELL

RATING: PG-13
ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.
FEEDBACK: Welcomed
EMAIL: AlisonMDobell@aol.com
WEBSITE: http://carlajane.50megs.com/Ali00.html
SUMMARY: "Commander Tucker continues to come to terms with his new life and Sub-Commander T'Pol has a nasty surprise."
DISCLAIMER: The usual disclaimers apply. The characters and 'Enterprise' are the property of Paramount. No infringement of copyright is intended.

Part Four

"NOBODY'S CHILD"

* * * * *

The end of the fourth week was something of a milestone for Trip. For the first time he had been able to apply his own gel except for the hard to reach places like his back which Sar still did for him. He felt a certain amount of pride that his skin no longer peeled in the fierce heat and he could now tolerate the inferno in which he toiled. The punishment was made sufferable by his companion, the Siminarial Guard Sar, who watched over him more like a guardian than a gaoler. He learnt the subtle interplay that passed for humour among Volarans. He was working further along the line this time. No longer on the patkas he was now helping to fashion moulds into which the hot lava like substance was poured. From this incredible crucible materials stronger than steel formed the artifacts so prized by surface dwellers. At the end of the arduous shift, Trip automatically led the way back up the narrow winding staircase of rock that led to their apartment. He no longer thought of it as a cell. It was far too big and luxurious for that. The thought made him chuckle. Since when had his prison begun to feel like home?

Sar tilted his head and Trip knew he was asking him what was so funny. He smiled causing the guard to hold his breath for a second. It was a like a gift from which all shadows fled and only light could exist. The Human was unaware of the effect on Sar, his mind skipping through his thoughts like a small stone skimming a pond. "I was just thinkin' how comfortable this place has become to me. I can't believe how cold and lonely I thought this place was. Now I can almost feel the breath of the others as I walk and this room has become home to me."

"It is still a cell, Senisa." Sar gently reminded him.

Trip grinned. "I know that. Humour me, would ya? I'm just sayin' I'm not afraid any more and that is due mostly to you."

Sar blinked. Trip had already stripped off and was standing by the stone bed lathing gel into his hands and rubbing them together firmly to heat the gel up enough to rub into his sore skin.

"Me?"

"Yeah." Trip smiled happily at him and pointed to the pot. "Do my back will ya, Sar?"

Sar nodded and took a generous amount of gel from the pot and moved behind the Human, his large hands expertly rubbing the gel across his back in broad warm sweeps. Trip closed his eyes. He had learnt to enjoy this moment. One of the few that gave him relief not pain. After a few moments he spoke quietly. Sar was still working behind him, his hands now rubbing the gel gently into the back of Trip's neck.

"You're awfully quiet, Sar. What's up, my friend?"

"Do not call me that."

Trip felt stung by the rebuff. Went to turn around to face him to see what the matter was, but Sar dropped his hands down on to Trip's shoulders to prevent him. "You have not finished yet, Senisa."

The gentle admonishment produced the desired effect. Trip concentrated on finishing the necessary chore. When Sar was satisfied he clucked and Trip put on a fresh set of rough clothes and waited for Sar to move back into his line of sight. It was bad manners to peer around at someone when their face was averted. An imposition on privacy. In a way Trip could understand that. Like many of the Volaran customs it was a subtle thing. A nuance that actually added to the balance of the quiet lives they led. He sat on the end of his bed and waited for Sar to join him. The big man looked down at him for a few moments in grave silence.

"Tomorrow is a reward day."

"What's that?"

"You have been dutiful in your service. Have neither complained nor lagged behind. All that has been asked of you, you have done."

Trip shrugged. "The alternative was bein' punished."

"Nevertheless, a reward has been granted by the Prince Regent."

He was wary now. Having learnt that something good on Volara was not necessarily something good for Humans. "What kinda reward?"

Now Sar smiled at him. "Tomorrow you will spend on the surface."

He was stunned. "No toilin' in the mine?"

Sar shook his head, pleased to have surprised the Human.

"What am I gonna do up there? I mean, it's not like I can wander around or anythin'."

"I will be with you."

That felt better. And Sar would keep him out of trouble. As he thought about it Trip began to get excited. "Do you have family, Sar?"

The Siminarial Guard nodded. "Yes."

"Do they live on the surface?"

Sar chuckled. A deep rumbly sound that Trip found comforting. "No, Senisa. They live in the Substrata section. Where the light is kinder to the eyes."

Trip nodded, he knew what he meant. Sar had explained to him that many people who had served their time below ground found they could not dwell on the surface again. Those that did sometimes went blind. Some even went mad. The quiet orderly life below ground cocooned them against the complex intricacies of life above ground. What some called punishment to others was viewed as salvation. It all depended upon your point of view. Something that had been nagging at Trip since he had first been interred now rose to the surface of his mind. "Sar, why do some of the other prisoners seem kinda hostile towards me?"

"Because you are protected."

"Protected?"

The big man nodded but still had not sat down. When he saw how the Human was craning his neck to keep eye contact with him he relented and knelt on the ground facing Trip. This way they were almost eye level. Trip smiled at the image.

"That can't be comfortable, Sar."

Sar ignored him. "I am a member of the Siminarial Guard. That means I was hand picked by the Prince Regent. When a prisoner is assigned one of us his life is held to be protected."

Trip frowned. "Why?"

Sar looked a little embarrassed. As if explaining something he was not supposed to know. "Because you committed no crime."

For a long moment neither said anything. Trip was watching an odd mix of emotions in the big man's golden eyes. "Why should that make a difference?" He asked softly.

Sar put his hands on the edge of the stone bed as he leaned in towards Trip. As if afraid someone would hear his words and have him flogged. "You gave your freedom for another."

He swallowed slowly, seeing how deeply the knowledge had affected the Guard. "My Captain and my friend. He would'a died otherwise, Sar. I couldn't let him die."

Another silence fell. Trip felt as if the Guard was looking right into his soul. "And I will not let you die, Senisa. I vow this on blood unshed until my breath rejoins the winds of Heaven."

Trip felt too moved to speak. Realised this was why the Volaran was so solicitous towards him. It was respect. He also realised something else. Something that gave him goose bumps. "Why are ya kneelin' in front of me, Sar?"

"To confirm my unspoken vow."

He watched the big man contemplate him for a few more moments as if to make sure Trip understood then rose gracefully to his feet. Trip was stunned. How in hell had he gained himself a bodyguard? And one hand picked by the Prince Regent himself? It was bizarre. As odd as anything else he had seen or discovered about this planet and its' people. It was also strangely affecting. While Sar made himself busy preparing for sleep, Trip blinked back tears and lay back on his bed in awe.

* * * * *

Sub-Commander T'Pol blinked. Captain Archer repeated his question. The bridge crew waiting in silence to hear her answer. "I do not know what the Vulcan ship, Sh'tok, is doing here Captain."

"Is there a Vulcan base near, Sub-Commander?"

"No, Captain."

"A trade route then?"

"Captain, this area of space is neither a supply corridor nor the approach to a Vulcan planet. Perhaps they are simply *exploring*."

He raised his eyebrows at that one. "Then I guess we'd better open up a hailing frequency and see what they want." He turned to Ensign Sato and gave her a nod.

Within seconds she indicated that the Captain of the Sh'tok was responding.

"Put him through, Ensign."

Captain Turov appeared on the screen. "I am Captain Turov of the Sh'tok."

"I am Captain Jonathan Archer of the starship Enterprise. How can we help you?"

"I know who you are, Captain."

Captain Archer looked surprised. "You do?"

"Yes. We have been looking for you for weeks."

"May I ask why?"

"Do you still have Sub-Commander T'Pol serving as your First Officer?"

The Captain gave T'Pol a glance, not sure where this was leading. "Yes, I do. Now why are you looking for Enterprise and what does this have to do with my First Officer?"

At that moment the image drew back and another figure stepped into centre stage. A tiny gasp caused the Captain to look behind him at his Science Officer. T'Pol had gone completely pale. The little colour she did have was gone.

"Sub-Commander T'Pol, are you all right?"

She did not answer him. She was staring at the face now filling the screen. Horror and shock riveting her to the spot. "Koss! What in the name of Surak are you doing here?"

* * * * *

The brightness above ground was disconcerting. Trip was inordinately grateful to Sar for providing eyeshields. They were more versatile than glasses and comprised of a band worn around the top of the head which had a little screen that dipped at various angles to filter the light. They could be moved to the side or tipped in any direction the wearer chose. Trip quickly became used to wearing them. His eyes widened at the sights he was seeing. He felt like a kid on a school outing. Sar smiled gently to himself, enamoured by the Human's good nature and obvious fascination with all things Volaran. He felt a little swell of pride that this task had fallen to him though he would never truly be able to relax above ground. This reward was worth the savouring if only to witness the joy it brought to his human charge.

Sar showed him everything. An open area with maztas, or arenas, displaying what Trip could only relate to as works of art. Some were beautiful, others so twisted and distorted that they reminded him of what used to be called 'modern art' back home. A euphemism for puerile rubbish masquerading as art. He took it all in with polite interest, filing away anything he could later use to regale his friends back on Enterprise when his sentence ended. They moved on. Trip was surprised to find themselves in something akin to a market place. He noticed no money changed hands. Whatever anyone wanted they purchased by means of barter. Two sticks of Ko-darin Bok for a cup of Chakidda. The names were strange. The sights and sounds exotic but Sar did not relax. Sensing his tension Trip instinctively cut short the market tour and moved on again. They were walking along a wide apatas, or street, when they came to a large shuttered courtyard in the grounds of a huge ugly building. Trip shivered inwardly then noticed the grounds were not empty. He moved closer and peered through the slatted shutters that made up the Volaran equivalent of a fence. He gasped and looked back at Sar, his face pinched and distressed. "Sar, why are these children locked up? What crime did they commit?"

"Senisa, they are not locked up."

"Ya could'a fooled me. What is this place?"

Trip was watching one particular child. A boy. He looked about 12 or 13 years old and stood off to one side. Even with his alien features Trip could tell that he was sad. Lonely even. The other children were all playing together but this one appeared to be shunned. He wondered why.

"It is a place for those who have no one. They are fed and cared for."

Realisation dawned. "An orphanage."

"What is an orphanage, Senisa?"

Trip swallowed against the lump forming in his throat. The boy had become aware that eyes were on him and turned his head. Trip felt his breath catch and his heart sped up with sorrow. In place of the usual golden eyes, this Volaran child's eyes were a milky white. *Oh God, Oh God, the kid's blind*. An old, old song played softly through his head. The words suddenly far more poignant than they had been when his grandma had sung it in their back yard so many years ago.

"As I was slowly passing an orphan's home one day
I stopped there for a moment just to watch the children play.
Alone a boy was standing and when I asked him why
He turned with eyes that could not see and he began to cry.

I'm nobody's child
I'm nobody's child
I'm like a flower
Just growing wild.
No mommy's kisses
And no daddy's smile
Nobody wants me
I'm nobody's child..."

- 'Nobody's Child' sung by The Alexander Brothers

Tears pricked his eyes and he felt drawn to go to the boy. Sar put a hand on his shoulder, surprised to see that the Human was upset. "Senisa, what is wrong?"

"The boy, Sar, he's blind."

Sar blinked not quite comprehending what he meant. "Do you not have blind people on your planet?"

"Yeah, sure, but blind orphans are especially sad Sar. On our world when a child loses his or her parents they become an orphan. The state takes care of them in places like this and people who don't have kids come and adopt them."

"Then why are you crying?" Asked the Siminarial Guard quietly.

Trip sniffed. "'Cause this kid has no one."

"How do you know that? You do not know this child."

"Oh, I know." Said Trip softly.

Intrigued, Sar fell silent and watched as the human moved along the fence until he was directly opposite the boy. Unerringly the boy's head turned slowly tracking the movements of a man he could not see. Trip started to speak, his voice soft, gentle. Not wanting to startle the child. "Hey, I hope ya don't me talkin' to ya. My name's Trip. Trip Tucker."

The head tilted at that odd little angle that reminded him of Sar when he was asking an unspoken question. He smiled slightly.

"What's your name?"

Instead of replying the boy asked a hesitant question of his own. "You are an off-worlder?"

Trip chuckled lightly. The sound fascinated the child. It held warmth and something almost like affection. "I come from a planet called Earth."

"I do not know this planet - Trip."

He grinned at the use of his name. "So do ya mind if I talk to ya?"

The head tilted again as if considering. "I think I would like that."

"O-kay, so what's your name?"

"Keritaniwyuuti-ya."

Trip looked stunned. "What?" When the child went to repeat it Trip quickly stopped him. "No, no, that's all right - it's just kind'a hard for me to pronounce. Don't think I could even remember it."

The boy smiled and that was when Trip knew he was well and truly lost.

"Do ya mind if I shorten it? How about I call ya Kai?"

The boy thought about that and his smile widened with a shy joy as if he had been given a gift he could not pay for. "I would like that, Trip."

"Okay then," Said Trip with a huge grin. "Now, how would ya like to hear a story Kai?"

* * * * * *

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