Unbound-Part 22

Unbound
An "Enterprise" story

By Alison M. DOBELL

RATING: PG-13.
STATUS: New. SEQUEL to "CONUNDRUM"
ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.
FEEDBACK: Welcomed.
EMAIL: AlisonMDobell@aol.com
WEBSITE: http://carlajane.50megs.com/Ali00.html

SUMMARY: "T'Pol and Dr Phlox continue with their plan but the Commander has no intention of being a sleeping partner."
The usual disclaimers apply. The characters and 'Enterprise' are the property of Paramount. No infringement of copyright is intended.

Part 22

"KINGDOM OF THE BLIND"

* * * * *

It was so dark he was beginning to think the light of memory was a fantasy. A dream of impossible images made flesh to divert himself from the infinite boredom of this empty void. Was this Hell? Damned if he knew. In fact he was not sure of anything any more. He fancied he breathed a sigh into existence but had no means of knowing if it had happened. Never before had the gift of imagination seemed so like a curse.

* * * * *

The briefing was surprisingly short and succinct. Lt Reed wondered whether it was in deference to the Chief Engineer's difficulty in staying awake. He had to quash the temptation to ask the Commander for what seemed like the hundredth time if he was alright. And was that a flicker of surprise on the Sub-Commander's face when he entered the situation room with Trip?

"We are approaching the Xindi ship and will be within range in 2.4 hours." Said T'Pol carefully. "It is imperative that we do not increase speed and remain beyond their scanning range."

"What is their scanning range?" Asked the Armoury Officer.

"We do not know." The Sub-Commander admitted bluntly.

That did not please Lt Reed. "If we do not know their scanning range then they may already be aware that we are following them."

"That is correct."

For a moment he just stared at T'Pol then glanced aside to look at the Commander. This was the part where the normally voluble Southerner would make his observations but there was not so much as a peep out of him. Lt Reed only knew he was awake because his eyes were open. What was wrong with him and why was the Sub-Commander so close to the hostile species who wanted to annihilate the Humans along with their home world? Something was not adding up.

Travis Mayweather could feel a subtle tension. He glanced at Hoshi but she was no wiser that he was. Both were disturbed not only by the Commander's lack of input but also by T'Pol's bald statement. "Sub-Commander, if I may ask, what are we going to do?"

"We will continue to follow them to see where they go."

"An' if they don't go to their home world what do we do then?"

All heads turned to look at the Commander. Sub-Commander T'Pol seemed to stiffen imperceptibly. "Then we will destroy the Xindi ship."

A collective gasp punctuated the sudden silence. Trip stared at T'Pol. His mind was fairly numb and thoughts were sluggish but he was slowly pulling himself back together. The marathon session with the Sub-Commander earlier had obviously taken more out of him than he expected. Damn, he could do with some of that Vulcan stamina right now. He felt T'Pol in his mind, her thoughts gentle and soothing. Concerned. A seeming contradiction to her tense stance as he viewed it now.

*There is no other way, Ashayam.*

*You should be resting.*

A trickle of suspicion seeped through his consciousness. *Is that what all the love makin' was about? Did ya hope to tire me out so much that I'd miss this meetin'?*

She tried to be unaffected by his theory but the guess hit home. No words could express how much that knocked the stuffing out of him. The Sub-Commander tried to reassure him. *You do not understand, Trip. With your devotion to the Captain, even knowing or believing him to be dead, I could not be assured that you would be able to allow this option.*

*Option?* Real rage began to build behind that mild word. *Jonathan Archer isn't an OPTION T'Pol an' I don't like the way you're tryin' to manipulate us into followin' a course of action that'll take the possibility of gettin' him back out of our hands. Just what the hell are ya up to?*

*The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, Commander.* Her thoughts echoed quietly inside his head, scalding his mind with her cold hearted logic and searing a path of unbearable pain and sorrow through the walls of his heart.

Lt Reed was anxious. After his comment to T'Pol the Commander had clammed up again and just stared at her. Now. Unless he was much mistaken. He could see tears building in the man's eyes. He put a hand on his friend's shoulder and leaned close enough to whisper. "Perhaps we should go, Commander?"

He made no response. The Sub-Commander was talking again but Malcolm barely heard her. Carefully steering Trip away from the room as the meeting broke up. Instructions ringing in his ears that he was only partly aware of. He could almost feel the Vulcan's eyes boring through the back of his head and wondered just what the hell was going on.

* * * * *

"You cannot tell him." Said the mammalian Xindi.

The Xindi Captain was the calmest. They were in the war room of their ship, all five sub-species in conference. "Yet they follow. Why?"

The Chancellor tilted his shoulders in what could have been a shrug. "Do not ascribe intelligence to random acts of neurosis."

"They are sentient."

"By definition only, and a loose and rather generous one." He paused. "Remember our doom."

All three nodded solemnly. The insectoid Xindi was growing impatient. "The Humans are slow, encumbered by their inadequacies. Yet the portents are beyond question."

The thought seemed to trouble his mammalian cousin. The Chancellor frowned. "We should have killed him."

"No," Said the Xindi Captain. The other two looked at him, wondering at his steadfast insistence.

"Why do you persist, cousin? An enemy should not be left to soil our air, pollute our waters. The taint will surely fill our nostrils long after he has gone. Would you choke on the foul stench of their bile?"

"Something is not right."

"*You* are what is not right." Sneered the Chancellor.

The Xindi Captain resisted any attempt to bait him. He was thinking. His fast reptilian brain detecting an emerging pattern his cousins had yet to see. If he was right the life or death of a single Human would pale into insignificance but even voicing his suspicion would be enough to ensure his own very painful death. No. His best hope for uncovering the truth and calming his volatile cousins was to do this carefully. The smart way. Let them fight over the outcome once it was assured. Timing, after all, was everything.

* * * * *

The Ambassador listened carefully, his body angled forward in deep obeisance. His Master's echoing voice fell silent, the dark column of his energy warping the very air around the dais with his awesome power. Ambassador Chot was faint with joy, enervated by the prospect of pleasing him. "These Humans are quite ingenious, Master. They should not have been able to leave Zeon yet they did so leaving none behind. They should not have survived confrontation with the Xindi yet their Captain still lives though that thread grows weaker with every passing day. They should not be able to follow yet they do."

"It will avail them naught."

"Master?"

"I sense a wavering in our protégé. You will go to them, *persuade* them that the time has come to solidify their allegiance or face the consequences."

The Ambassador paused just a fraction. "This could divide the union."

"Only the strong will survive."

"Yes, Master, but we need all of them to survive."

"No. We need nothing but the inspiration of our intellect. These weak vessels are amusing for a while but they can hold little of lasting value. If they fail they die."

"And if they succeed?"

"We may spare them."

"And their world?"

"Will be a place of pilgrimage to honour their ancestors."

"That was not our bargain."

"No." Soothed the Master, his deep rich voice making the air tremble with dark vapor. To the untutored eye it looked not unlike smoke drifting in a faint breeze. "But life is nothing if not adaptable." He paused and the Ambassador felt a shift in his temperament. "You should not have suffered the Vulcan to live." He rebuked mildly.

The Ambassador bowed even lower. "We did not expect her to bring the spy. She knows too much for her knowledge to be accidental."

"You think her High Command authorised this?" The Divinity sounded surprised. A rare thing indeed.

"I know not, Master, but it is unexpected. With the Vulcan on a ship of Humans it makes sense of the prophecy. The portents grow stronger the closer they get to the spawning grounds."

"And you have found the one? The link that will fashion a more durable steel from this flawed metal?"

"No. There is a confusion of emotions, Master."

"Explain this confusion."

"The Vulcan is very loyal to the Human Captain."

"He is the link?"

"Possibly."

"You are not certain?"

"No."

"Who else?"

"She is very close to the spy."

"He is Denobulan?"

"Yes, Master."

"How many Humans?"

"82."

A long pause. "A large number."

"Yes, Master, but I do not believe all can be candidates." He paused. "The Vulcan is very particular as is their predisposition to forge order out of chaos."

"You must find her. Bring her to me."

"And the Humans?"

"Let the Xindi earn their position in evolution. Nothing teaches better than the drive for survival."

The Ambassador stilled and let pleasure seep through him as a dark vaporous hand detached from the column to crown him, the power shifting down through him and filling him with an intense burning resolve to prove worthy. As he inhaled the intense heat of that unrefined power the outer layers of his current form were immolated and shriveled in liquid flames that bathed him in the fire of rebirth. When the hand drew back the sharp pang of loss was replaced with renewed commitment fashioned to his newly rendered form.

* * * * *

It had taken some doing to get her alone but once the door hissed shut behind them he could hold in his temper no longer. "What the hell do ya think you're doin'? How dare ya play God with the Cap'n's life!"

Sub-Commander T'Pol gazed back at him, her pain only apparent in his mind. To all outward appearances she was emotionless. The bland mask showing nothing but an unfeeling face. Trip knew differently but at that precise moment he saw the carefully schooled architecture that protected her Vulcan sensibilities and allowed the facade to inflame him. Building on his passion and sense of betrayal. There were tears in his eyes.

"How could ya, T'Pol?" He choked out, his own heart compressing in a pain that could not be contained no matter how much he tried to hide the hurt from her. She would have known anyway for they were one. One. That was a laugh. She had tricked him and weak fallible Human that he was he had fallen for it. And damn, but it hurt.

*Ashayam...*

"Don't ya 'ashayam' me as if you've done nothin'. Do ya know how dirty I feel, T'Pol?" His voice cracked and he sub-vocalised the rest of his sorrow. The beat of her own heart a frantic shudder of emotional debris that was beyond her control. *How can I ever trust ya again, T'Pol? Don't ya understand? I love ya, not affection, not respect, not the regard of one colleague for another. Hell it goes beyond all those things an' more. Ya hurt me T'Pol and I don't know how I can get passed the pain*.

She blinked slowly, the moisture in her eyes momentarily blurring her vision. This was why she had not told him. Why she had tried to outflank his sensibilities hoping that he would sleep through the worst of it. She should have known. The Commander was nothing if unpredictable in all but his passions. *I apologise, Trip. I did not mean to deceive you.*

*Yet ya did.*

His thoughts were faint, little echoes of the betrayal constricting the beat of his sorrowing heart. Ignoring the words that had gushed forth in pained accusation she closed the distance between them and raised a hand to cradle the side of his face. He looked deep into that dark liquid pool, his eyes twin pools of misery. Gently her fingers splayed and settled on the pulse points. He was so upset he barely noticed. *You can trust me, Ashayam.*

He was choking back tears. Wanting so desperately to believe her but not daring to. Not knowing what other nasty skeletons lurked in that Vulcan closet.

"Do you trust me, Ashayam?" She whispered out loud.

Impossibly he realised he still did. The hurt and betrayal dimming as he gazed deep into her eyes. Unable to stop loving her. His voice caught as he responded. "Ya know I do."

"How much?" She asked softly, her lips less than a handspan from his face. Her warm breath making him sway towards her with need and helpless desire. Trip thought he would drown in those eyes.

"Heart an' soul, darlin'. Heart an' soul." He could feel her love stirring in his heart. Her eyes mirroring everything he felt for her and more. Transfixed he could not look away.

*Enough to blindly follow wherever I lead?"

He searched her eyes for a clue as to where this was heading. A flicker of suspicion threatening to plunge him back into emotional chaos. Her love eased into all the dark places of his soul, her touch on his face echoed through every cell of his body until he was aching for her. It was more than a physical longing, it was a cry from the soul. "Yeah." His voice was shaky with emotion. "It's probably stupid, T'Pol, but I do."

Her look softened in some indefinable way. He felt a slight tingle on the side of his face where the warmth of her handle gently cradled his cheek. It was the only warning before he was plunged deep into that exotic mind. This time the journey was smooth, fast, and bewilderingly... alien.

* * * * *

Darkness. So complete and utter that his senses could find no foothold in reality. He thought he fancied another voice apart from the inner one screaming his fear and frustration in the calm void that bound him. If this was not Hell was it Purgatory? That no man's land of the soul where the damned were left to weep and gnash their teeth and never draw near to the Gates of Heaven? Or the waiting room for the Devil's Own Playground? Did he have to wait for new evils to be born before he joined their number? Thinking was not so much painful as wearying yet wherever he was there was no rest from the endless cycle of his thoughts. So was this living or a mockery of death?

A shock of sensation suddenly burned right through him redefining every definition he knew of pain. Unable to tell where it had touched him or whether he had imagined it mimicking some memory that radiated like a sharp needle point of bright agony bursting in his numbed mind and forcing an alertness into his wasting senses. He felt as if his skin had been peeled off with a blowtouch and something had just brushed the exposed weeping flesh beneath. Had he cried out? He could not be sure, not even aware of whether he had a mouth to open let alone the architecture of a body to frame neural responses to a torture he could not quantify. Baffled and frightened his thoughts trembled. Oddly enough the fear reassured him. Only the living knew fear. It was a pathetic prop but he clung to it shamelessly. Survival really was the strongest instinct.

* * * * *

Ensign Mayweather was careful to keep far enough back not to disturb the ship's wake yet he could not help wishing they knew how far the Xindi sensors could reach. Were they out of sensor range or being drawn into a new trap? He glanced across at Hoshi, her face paler than usual, the look in her eyes frozen between fright and fear. He wished he could reassure her but what with? His head turned as Sub-Commander T'Pol returned to the bridge. Lt Reed looked up at her, a query in his eyes that went unanswered. She did not take the Captain's seat but stood with legs braced, hands clasped behind her back, her eyes facing forward and watching the screen.

Lt Reed wondered where Trip was but knew better than to ask. Something was definitely going on between his friend and the Vulcan Sub-Commander but he was not prepared to speculate further. He just hoped the Commander knew what he was doing.

"Has there been any deviation in their course, Ensign?"

The boomer shook his head, checking his instrumentation as he did so. "No, Sub-Commander."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. She looked at Hoshi. "Have they sent any transmissions?"

Ensign Sato shook her head. T'Pol's frown deepened. Everyone was aware of an inexplicable rise in tension. The Armoury Officer decided to call her on it. "Sub-Commander, what are you suggesting?"

"I am not suggesting anything, Lieutenant, but I am surprised."

"Why?"

She turned her head to look at him. "The Xindi are Zenari puppets. I am surprised they are acting without any orders from their masters."

"Who says they aren't?"

All eyes turned as Trip stepped on to the bridge. He still looked tired but he was walking and talking without any problem and that was something of a welcome improvement.

"There have been no transmissions, Commander. No contact with the Zenari."

He shook his head, his eye on the screen. "Uh uh, no transmissions doesn't mean no contact T'Pol, ya should know that."

She stared at him. *What are you saying?*

He chose to answer out loud. Not wanting the bridge crew to know they could sub-vocalise. That was his and T'Pol's little secret. Perhaps it was one the Zenari and Xindi shared too? "They could be telepathic, Sub-Commander."

Ensign Hoshi Sato looked surprised then a spark of interest sharpened the look in her eyes. "It *is* feasible, Sub-Commander, and the mindset of both species is close enough for it to be a distinct possibility."

"Is there any evidence this is the case, Ensign?"

Hoshi reluctantly shook her head. "No, Sub-Commander." She glanced at Trip, her eyes saying sorry. He did not seem perturbed but walked over to his work station next to Malcolm.

"Good to see you are feeling better, Commander." Murmured the Lieutenant quietly.

Trip smiled and gave him a brief nod. Lt Reed felt himself relax. Glad to have the Chief Engineer acting more like his usual self. Trip looked around at the others, a muted twinkle in his eyes. "So what have I missed?"

* * * * *

They had been quarrelling. Again. The Chancellor was getting tired of leading the Humans around by the nose. He wanted to engage them in battle. Wipe the murderous scum out of the Expanse and scatter their raw material among the solar debris of lost stars. "This is a waste of time. We should destroy them now."

The mammalian Xindi was cautious. "They could have a hundred ships waiting for just such an act of aggression."

The Chancellor leaned across the table on his powerful forearms. "Then where are they? We have picked nothing up on sensors. They are bluffing."

"Or confident that they have the upper hand." Said the Xindi Captain.

The Chancellor was about to challenge his puny intellect when the air warped around them. All conversation stopped. The large tank behind them churned as their aquatic cousins glided closer to the glass. "We are not alone."

They turned and stared as a column of dark shadow coalesced out of the empty air into a distinct recognisable form. The Xindi Captain was surprised. The mammalian Xindi looked alarmed as if their dissention had caused the form to appear. Almost he seemed fearful of being punishment. The Chancellor did not relinquish his belligerence though he did moderate his tone. "They are still in pursuit, Master."

Ambassador Chot nodded. The Xindi all inclined their heads in an almost choreographed act of submission. "The Humans must not reach the spawning grounds."

The reptilian Xindi Captain dared to speak. "That was not our instruction, master."

"Instructions can change. Outcomes must be assured."

The Chancellor felt a surge of excitement. Carefully he schooled his features, not wishing to seem too eager and thus earn a bad opinion from the only authority that mattered. "What do you wish us to do?"

"Kill them! But first you must capture the Vulcan. She is not to be harmed. Once we have questioned and examined her you may extinguish the rest."

The Xindi exchanged furtive looks of surprise. To extract a single lifeform out of many was not an easy task. Destroying the Human vessel was.

The mammalian Xindi tried not to look troubled. "What of their other ships? We could be advancing the end of our race."

"Do you question your maker?"

He trembled and bowed low. All thought of speaking again quashed. The Ambassador eyed them each in turn. The insectoid Xindi flexed his mandibles and Ambassador Chot replied in his complex language not the common tongue. The aquatic Xindi moved with sinuous grace inside their tank, bowing to whatever decision Chot cared to make. Knowing the Divine Hand he represented and the cost of opposing it.

* * * * *

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Four of you have made comments

Another great chapter Allison. I love the bonding between Trip and T'Pol. Your form and content of dialogue is well organized and easy to read. I always enjoy your chapters. MOre please.

Oh Ali... what can I say but bravo! You know how to write a good story and I can't wait to read the next chapter.

Such suspense, at the end of every chapter, lovely. The bond between Trip and T'Pol is amazing. I am waiting for your next chapter, so help me out here!! Thanks for the great writing.

Wow, wow, wow! And lots of suspense! What are they going to do, hmmmm????