Fragile-Part 15

Fragile Universe
An "Enterprise" story
Written 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 decides he needs to enlist help from an unexpected source if he is to ever find out the truth. Captain Archer worries for his friend's sanity while Lt Reed resolves to do all he can to help."
DISCLAIMER: The usual disclaimers apply. The characters and 'Enterprise' are the property of Paramount. No infringement of copyright is intended.

Part 15

"THE BURDEN OF TRUTH"

* * * * *

It was a shock. The Vulcan couple staring back at Trip seemed as surprised to be talking to him as he to them. The woman swallowed slowly but seemed to be in control. Maybe that was where T'Pol got her poise from? He waited for her to speak. "You are who?"

"My name is Commander Tucker, ma'am. I'm the Chief Engineer on Enterprise."

T'Pol's father spoke. "What is your connection to our daughter, Commander?"

"Well apart from being crew members she's my friend, an' I don't take kindly to people hurtin' my friends."

The woman's lip twitched slightly but her eyes were steady. Calm. She let her husband do the talking and concentrated on the intense young man staring back at them from the view screen. An individual more unlike the Captain was hard to imagine. There was no cautious holding back. No polite little detours around the words he wanted to say. This man said what he thought and she found it a refreshing if odd change.

"Commander, my daughter was betrothed to Koss..."

Anger flushed Trip's face. It took him all his control not to yell obscenities at them at the mere mention of that man's name. He calmed himself enough to speak but the words were mangled bitten pieces of dialogue that had already been chewed half to death before he spat them out. "She didn't wanna marry him."

Her mother's eyebrow rose. Interesting. Such an impassioned young man.

"They were betrothed." Her father continued solemnly. "It is the Vulcan way."

"Well it sure isn't ours, and the more I hear about that man the less I like the sound of him."

The Vulcan frowned. "Commander, your anger is pointless. The man is dead."

For a moment there was silence. Then slowly Trip's eyes narrowed. "That's what I wanted to talk to ya about."

"I do not understand."

"I need ya to tell me everythin' ya know about Koss. What he's like. His moods, that kind of thing. Then I want to know *exactly* what happened when he brought T'Pol back to Vulcan."

Her parents stared at him as if the Human had just grown an extra head. It was T'Pol's mother who broke the stunned silence. "Why should we do that, Commander? We have already told you that Koss is dead and your Captain has informed us of our daughter's demise."

She refused to say execution. Trip forced himself to go on. Not wanting to hurt them but needing them to understand just how important this was. "I know ya don't know me, have no reason to trust me but I can tell ya this. I don't buy this whole story. Somethin' smells fishy an' right now I trust my gut a whole lot more than I trust a bunch of pirates."

"Commander," Said her father in a strained tone. "What good will this do?"

"I'm hopin' it'll lead us to the truth, sir. Whether T'Pol really is dead or is bein' held someplace against her will I'm gonna find out. Even if I have to shake every single star and tip every planet upside down to find it. I'd like it if I had your blessing."

` "And if you don't Commander?"

He shrugged. Beyond caring who he upset now. A sense growing that they were running out of time. "I'll do it anyway. I just won't be so polite about it."

* * * * *

The Captain was furious. He glared at his unrepentant Chief Engineer. T'Pol's parents had opened a com link to the Captain after their conversation with Trip and bit by bit the whole exchange had been related to him. The only blessing he could see was that they were not making a formal complaint. In fact they were not complaining at all. They had seemed shell shocked. Once the link ended he had made short work of finding out where Trip was. It did not surprise him to discover he was in the hold, still studying the piece of metal sheeting he and Malcolm had recovered. Why he wanted to keep hold it of heaven only knew, but he had jettisoned the other bits. As the Captain stepped into the hold he caught Sar's eye. The man was standing by the door. Able to overhear bits of conversation but far enough away not to intrude. He nodded to the Volaran and stormed over to where Trip and Malcolm had their heads bent in animated discussion of the finer points of their respective crafts. Two heads looked up in surprise as the Captain spoke.

"Commander Tucker! What the hell did you think you were doing talking to T'Pol's parents like that?"

Commander Tucker raised his eyebrows but did not look a bit repentant. In fact he looked so calm it made the Captain even madder. "Bein' honest?"

"You not only insulted them, their culture and their daughter's memory you also wanted to drag up everything you could about Koss! Commander, the man is dead. I have no intention of letting you dig him up again just so you can vent your spleen. This is hard enough for them and your actions are unforgivable."

"Cap'n, I'm not after revenge."

"You're not?"

"No. I want the truth. Nothin' more, nothin' less. I owe it to myself, to T'Pol, an' even her parents."

The Captain took a steadying breath and stepped right up to his Chief Engineer. Lt. Reed stood ramrod straight and watched them. Ready to intervene if it got ugly. "How dare you presume to take the moral highground, Commander."

His words surprised the Commander. "That's not what I'm doin' Cap'n. Somethin' stinks about this and I'm gonna find out what it is."

"It's your attitude, Commander."

Now Trip was beginning to get pissed off at his friend. "Don't ya want to know what really happened?"

"I know what happened."

He shook his head. "No. You *think* ya know, Cap'n. Same as the rest of us."

The Captain was confused. What the hell was he talking about? He glanced at the silent Armoury Officer. "Malcolm, what are you doing here?"

"I happen to agree with Commander Tucker, sir."

"What?"

"Something is definitely not right, Captain. While the Commander's methods may be unorthodox I believe he is on to something."

"Are you saying you believe this fantasy?"

He thought about how best to answer the Captain. "I believe that we have been spun a somewhat elaborate lie, Captain. A lie in which innocent people were sacrificed to convince us it was the truth."

"But why, Malcolm? It doesn't make sense."

Trip gave a grim little nod, his eyes flashing. "Exactly, Cap'n. They were supposed to have been captured by pirates."

"No suppose about it."

"How many pirates d'ya know that would destroy their stolen cargo - whether it be goods or people? They may *look* like pirates but they sure as hell aren't actin' like 'em."

"Which means what exactly?"

Trip shrugged. "I haven't figured that part out yet, Cap'n."

The Captain was calming down but Trip knew he was still angry with him. He could see it simmering in his friend's eyes. "There's one more thing, Commander."

"Yes, sir?"

"T'Pol's parents have decided to take a berth on the next Vulcan vessel to come out here. They want to be present when you find out whatever it is you think you're going to find."

His face went pale. "I never meant for them to do that, Cap'n. Ya have to tell 'em not to come."

Captain Archer shook his head. "Too late, Trip. Your mess not mine. I'm not sure whether you impressed or horrified them. Knowing you it was probably both."

"I'm in trouble aren't I, Cap'n?"

The Captain's mood lightened just a little. "You're always in trouble, Trip. It's just the depth that varies."

He got a grin back and almost found himself smiling. He managed to keep his expression stern. "For what it's worth, T'Pol's parents have decided to back your determination to see this through. I have no idea what they think you can accomplish but they've downloaded a whole ton of stuff from the Vulcan database for you. What's more extraordinary is they've encrypted it to your voiceprint."

It was not often that the Captain had the pleasure of seeing his irrepressible Chief Engineer completely floored. He stared at the Captain in stunned silence. It took him a couple of tries to get his mouth to work properly. "They did what?"

"You heard."

Trip shook his head slowly from side to side. "I heard but I don't believe it. How the hell did they manage that? We don't have voiceprint access and this is *our* ship. How did they do it?"

"Don't forget who helped us build Enterprise."

Trip closed his eyes momentarily. "Oh Lord." His eyes sprang open again and rested on the Captain. His look rueful. "I just hope we don't find other less welcome surprises care of our dear Vulcan friends."

Then he thought about just how big a concession T'Pol's parents had made. For the first time in days the Commander saw the light at the end of the tunnel and it *wasn't* an oncoming train. His face broke out into a huge giga-watt smile. He had been worrying that he might have blown it. "Thanks, Cap'n."

The Captain frowned. "What did you ask for?"

"Everythin' they could find on Koss."

Before the Captain could berate him Trip rushed on. Not wanting to leave a gap wide enough for the smallest protest.

"I know how it sounds, Cap'n, but I *do* have my reasons."

"Am I gonna like them?"

Trip shrugged. "That depends." He paused a moment, his expression compacting into something hard as flint. For just a split second Captain Archer got a glimpse of how implacable a foe the Commander could be. "I wanna be able to crawl inside that bastard's head and see what he's thinkin' before the thought can make it to his mouth."

A look of concern flickered over the Captain's face. His voice dropped. "He's dead, Trip. Let it go."

The Commander shook his head. Distancing himself slightly from that hard edge for the Captain's sake. "Uh huh. I need to know what he's been playin' at Cap'n if I wanna get to the truth. An' if there's even the smallest chance the Sub-Commander is still alive I have to be able to second guess him. I can't do that unless I can get inside his head."

"Okay Trip, you win this round - for now - though I don't like the way you played T'Pol's parents."

"I wasn't playin'. Cap'n."

"You'd better hope your digging turns up something other than another can of worms. Do I make myself clear, Commander?"

Trip nodded. "As crystal."

The Captain turned to his Tactical Armoury Officer. "And what are you going to do, Lieutenant?"

"If it's all the same to you Captain I'd like to help the Commander."

The Captain sighed and shook his head. He was getting too old for this kind of thing. "Commander Tucker, see what a bad influence you are?"

The Commander flashed him a grin as the three of them began to walk to the door. Already itching to get his hands on those files as they joined Sar. "I just want the truth, Cap'n, that's all."

"And if you don't find it?"

Trip paused. All humour vanished. His look solemn but calm. Something deep in his eyes catching the light and sparking. Like granite striking flint. "Then at least I'll know I did everythin' I could for a friend."

The Captain fell silent. There really was no arguing with that.

* * * * *

Her breathing was laboured now. She was feeling dizzy. The knock on the head, the unbearable smell and heat, not to mention the foul water that came halfway up her calves. T'Pol had literally had enough. No one came to check on her. To see how she was. Not even to give her food or water. What was she doing here? Where were they taking her? T'Pol began to take a good look around. First with her eyes then using her hands to rummage through the debris that littered this foul stinking place. That was it. This was a place for all the refuse, the garbage, the putrid remnants of meals. The vacuous waste of both ends of the food chain and all parts in between. When she realised what the slimy material was that slid against her legs, she dry heaved over and over again until she thought her very throat would cough up blood. It was horrible. Horrendous. Disgusting filth. And she did not have the benefit of nasal inhibitors to help her endure it.

* * * * *

Sar was concerned for his Senisa. Trip had been carefully perusing the material sent by T'Pol's parents and had been up all night. Hunched over the keyboard in his quarters and hardly moving except to click through another screen and read even more of the cramped text. Everything from Koss's early childhood up to the present day. The early days were standard dry fare. Little or nothing of interest up until Koss and T'Pol were betrothed at the tender age of eleven. Eleven! His blood boiled but he managed to tamp it down. To control his emotions so that he could continue. Koss certainly applied himself to his studies achieving regular accelerated promotions in every field. At first Trip thought he must just be exceptionally bright then he noticed a pattern emerging. Koss was not being educated like the rest. He was being groomed. But for what?

He was surprised to find out that Koss was fluent in nine languages. One of them the Human tongue of English. That was interesting. As he scrolled through his language skills he stopped. His heart racing. Koss could speak Naausican! A tremor ran through him. Naausican. What was it Captain Benmar had said? Ah yes, the pirates were Naausican. It was too much of a coincidence to be accidental. Something cold stirred in his veins. This looked like the link he was searching for. This had been no simple pirate action but a carefully planned kidnap. The seizing of all the passengers had been done to hide the identity of the one they were really after. All of a sudden the spacing of the passengers made a sick kind of sense. He looked up and did not see Sar watching him with gentle concern. When he tried to get up he found he was too stiff. His legs had cramped and would not obey him. His muscles were locked and painful.

Sar at least had not forgotten that he had only come out of surgery mid-day. "Senisa, you must rest." He said softly. His voice like plush velvet, a cushion for his aching ears.

"Don't think I can move, Sar." He mumbled in response.

The Volaran was next to him in the blink of an eye. Large capable hands helped him to his feet. Trip closed his eyes quickly as a spasm of pain shot through knotted muscles. Sar tutted quietly and half carried him to his bed. A second bed had been fitted above his bunk and Kai slept dead to the world, his sightless eyes closed in sweet and happy content. For a moment Trip marveled that this gift was his to share. A soul he could help in his own small way to grow and flower. He resisted Sar's urging to sit on his bed and let the Volaran begin to undress him as he stood leaning against the bunk bed for a few moments to watch the boy sleep. It soothed him in a way few other things could. Made him feel a surge of hope so deep and fierce that it made him weak with emotion. Sar gave him a few minutes then coaxed him into sitting on his bed. Trip closed his eyes and yawned. He opened them and looked at the Volaran. An ocean of blue trapping a sea of gold.

"I've found the connection, Sar."

The big man nodded and took his boots and socks off. Trip let him work, his mind a whirl of possibilities. It felt good not to have to concentrate on more than one thing at a time. Right now thinking was his priority. Slowly a plan was forming in his head, but the thoughts were growing so sluggish. He really was dead on his feet. "What connection, Senisa?"

Sar's words brought him back to a semblance of coherent thought. "Koss."

He was stripped down to his regulation underwear now. Sar looked around for his sleepwear. Trip knew what he was looking for without him asking and pointed to a drawer. Sar nodded and opened it. Took out a pair of pajamas and put them to one side. "What did you discover about Koss, Senisa?"

"That he speaks Nautical."

Sar was hunting for something else. It momentarily distracted Trip. "What ya lookin' for Sar?"

"Oils."

"Oils?"

"You are sore and your muscles are locking. I need to massage them for you."

"Not necessary, my friend. Besides, I'm too tired. Just wanna grab a coupla hours sleep. Besides you're not my servant, Sar. I can put myself to bed."

Sar shook his head. "You need to loosen the knots Senisa. If you are right then tomorrow will be a very busy day and you must be able to face it fully refreshed. It is a small thing I do for you."

Trip yawned, too tired to argue. He gave the man a dizzy half smile as Sar triumphantly emerged from the bathroom with the bottle he was seeking. "Since when did ya turn into my mother, Sar?"

The Volaran smiled then made him take off the last of his clothing and lay flat on his stomach. Warming the oil first in his massive hands, Sar worked it into the tired and bunched muscles. Kneading out every knot and carefully relaxing his tense friend. Trip was halfway through explaining his plan when his voice trailed off. Before Sar had finished the Human was fast asleep and snoring gently. Sar smiled down at his friend and carefully put his pajamas on then pulled the covers over him. "Sleep well, Senisa. Sleep well, my friend."

* * * * *

She was definitely losing it. Her head lolling while inside it pounded in painful percussive waves. Sight became fragmentary illusions of light amid the darkness and gloom of her fetid prison. Odd noises cascaded against her eardrums and tormented her. T'Pol had never been able to sleep standing up but that might change. With nowhere to lay her head and nothing dry to sit or stand on, she made do with what little she had. Braced against a metal bulkhead she sighed deeply and tried to think of a way out as she rested. This muck had got in here somehow. That meant pipes, waste channels. She did not like to think about what she was contemplating but knew she had to face each possible option. As limited as they were she might have to do something in a hurry and it was only logical to be prepared. A cavalcade of really hard choices paraded through her rapidly numbing mind like a tatterdemalion rummaging through a waste disposal looking for viable scraps. The imagery too close to her current reality for comfort.

As irritating and discordant as human voices could be, right now T'Pol would have given almost anything to hear one. She tried hard not to think of the one that crowded her memory with something so close to joy that it was painful. His image hung in her heart like a portrait of everything she treasured most and was doomed to be denied. She neither thought about the vagaries of life nor dwelt on her losses. She was a Vulcan. There had to be a logical way out of this. If only she could rest properly. Get some sleep. Perhaps then she could think clearly enough to pave the way for her own deliverance. At last she dozed. The dream solidified in that half-waking state that robbed her of reason. She fancied his voice calling out to her. So softly, so full of love and concern. His gentle face warped into distress, riven with worry. His touch orchestrating emotions in her that lay dormant to anyone else. His smile warming her heart, soul and mind from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. Her whole body smiled back at him while the faint crescent of her weary lips murmured his name like a prayer.

* * * * *

He slept late and woke cranky. Surprised to see An-aga with a tray of food in his quarters. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Why didn't ya wake me, Annie?"

She smiled at his nickname for her. He only used it occasionally when they were alone. It amused Sar and made her happy knowing that it was born of affection. Trip got out of bed and poked about on the tray wondering what An-aga had brought him to eat. He smiled at the pecan pie but frowned at the other dishes. "What is this, An-aga?"

The look on her face was so beautiful it made her plain face shine. Her golden eyes regarded him with quiet joy. "Sar wanted you to be strong. He says you will need it."

Trip chuckled. "Did he now?"

"Yes. These other dishes I prepared myself, Trip. Carakan jarg is very nutritious and gives the body a burst of energy that is unequalled with other foods. Your Dr Phlox has been plaguing me for the recipe."

Trip was laughing. "I'm not surprised but how d'ya get chef to let ya cook this? I know I'm pretty protective of my engines but it's nothing to the almost murderous gleam in Chef's eyes when anyone tries to use his utensils. I'd rather face twenty Suliban than one enraged cook."

She knew he was teasing her and loved it. Loved the gentle humour that was so much a part of his nature. It took a moment for Trip to realise that Kai was not in bed. Seeing his expression she hastened to reassure him. "Kai is with Sarsa. They went to see the doctor."

Alarm shattered his calm demeanour. "What's up with him?"

"Nothing, Trip. The doctor wanted to take a look at his eyes, see if he could do anything for him. I knew he was nervous and didn't want to leave you but I told him I would be here when you woke and then Sarsa offered to go with him."

That calmed him. He was inordinately grateful to Dr Phlox for taking an interest in his son. Adopted or not he was well and truly family to Trip now. Nothing short of death would part them. An-aga indicated for Trip to take a shower and clean up. His meal would wait. While he saw to his ablutions An-aga tidied the room and sorted through his clothes. He was surprised when he emerged to find a fresh pot of coffee added to his repast and a gleam to the room that it had never had when he was in it. He looked at her dumbfounded. Was there nothing these people would not do for him? First he had Sar hovering over him like a mother hen, gently chiding him when he didn't get enough sleep, working the knots out of his muscles and putting him to bed. Now here was An-aga bringing him breakfast cooked with her own fair hand and tidying his room for him like he was a six year old. Part of him was flattered while another part of him was getting embarrassed. He was a grown man after all.

He took her hands in his as she finished laying out a fresh uniform for him. "Annie, ya don't have to do this."

She smiled gently at him. "It is a privilege to serve one of honour."

He flushed lightly. She thought it brought a lovely colour to his too-pale face. The Human had been through so much. "That may be so, Annie, but I'm just a man."

In a flash of insight she realised that this was what he saw. It was not her perception of him. An-aga urged him to sit and moved the small table up to him, placing the tray of food within easy reach while she sought to explain. "Do you know what a mirror is, Trip?"

He flashed her a smile and began to eat. "Yes, ma'am."

"Do you know what it is to gaze upon a still pond and see your own face looking back at you?"

"'Course I do, Annie."

She watched him chew his next mouthful, her look thoughtful. "And do you ever get the two mixed up?"

He paused, a look of confusion stealing over his face. "Ma'am?"

"Do you ever forget which one is you - the man of flesh and blood or the reflection?"

Trip shook his head. Intrigued now. "No, never."

"Neither do we, Trip. When we give a service to another they are like gifts. The only real things we have to offer for they come of ourselves not purchased from the sweat of another brow. With friends, lovers, family and those we care about the things we do for each other are gifts of the heart. Whether it is a smile, a touch, a sorrow shared. Whether it is a duty born in silence. A mundane task completed for another can bring such joy. To ease another's burden is as noble as to take away his pain. It is not servitude. For my sake, Trip, do not confuse the two."

She could see that her words had moved him. Her husband had been right about this man.

"Wherever we are you will always have a home. Wherever we go you will always have family. Whatever you choose to do you will always be loved."

Tears pricked his eyes. An-aga looked at him with such tenderness. At last she nodded. Her quiet voice echoing in his ears like a gentle surf rolling to shore in a loving benediction. Bringing all their many gifts with it. "Now," Said An'aga in a gentle but firm voice that brooked no argument. "Now you understand."

* * * * *

Captain Archer looked relieved to see Trip when he finally came on to the bridge. It was just passed two in the afternoon but Sar had explained that the Commander had been up all night reviewing the information from T'Pol's parents. To the Captain's surprise the Volaran had not stayed with Trip but had come on to the bridge and asked permission to speak. He had then outlined what he knew of Trip's plan. While the exhausted Commander got some much needed sleep, Lt. Hess had been milking the engines and cosseting the warp core to maintain Warp 5 for as long as possible. They were on the trail of the Naausican vessel. When Trip stepped on to the bridge, the Captain gave him a wide smile though his eyes were anxious. Searching those of his impulsive friend. Anxious to make sure that he was alright. The Captain would never forgive himself if he let his best friend push himself too far. "We're following the Naausican warp trail, Commander."

Trip looked surprised but pleased. As his gaze lit on Malcolm he saw the sombre Lieutenant grin and was even happier. "How far behind are we?"

"A few hours at most."

The shock on Trip's face almost made Captain Archer laugh aloud, only he did not want it look as if he was mocking his friend. "What day is it?"

The Captain chuckled. "Take it easy, Commander, you just had nine hours much needed sleep. Nine hours we made good use of I might add."

"So I see." He turned his head and looked at Sar. "This is your fault, isn't it?"

Sar simply gave a tiny smile and said nothing. Any further conversation was halted with a cry of alarm from Ensign Sato. The Captain's head whipped round. He searched her surprised face. "What is it, Ensign?"

Her eyes grew round as saucers. "You know that Naausican ship we've been following, Captain?"

"What about it, Ensign?"

She gulped. Her heart thudding painfully. Trying to keep her voice steady. "It knows we're here."

Commander Tucker frowned. "Are ya sayin' it's hailin' us, Ensign?"

She shook her head, her eyes still fixed on the Captain. "No, sir. I'm saying it's turned right round through 180 degrees. As we speak the Naausican vessel is heading straight for us!"

* * * * *

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Four of you have made comments

Beautiful! Man, I love the way you write! Your portrayal of Trip is so warm and wonderful. And I love that all those around him know him so well and love him so much. Thank you, Alison, for sharing your magical talent with us! I look forward to the rest of this great story!

Can't wait for more. An-aga's description of why she helps Trip was beautifully written.

Plumtuckered beat me to it: you really have a wonderful talent for moving your readers. This is moving gently, and yet, also vigorously, forward, building to what must be a confrontation, and yet we're all enjoying the journey for it's beauty.

Thank you so much for sharing this with us, and bring on ch. 16.

Alison, you are one of the few who can make me read Trip/T'Pol and almost like it. The reason is the way you write Trip. Your love for the character is so obvious and I love the way you write him. Don't ever stop!