The Ring of Truth - Part 7

The Ring of Truth

By Evalyn A.

Fix the Finale Fic

Disclaimer: All Paramount’s, not mine, though they don’t deserve it.

A/N: It is assumed that although the overall historical events of TATV did happen, the moment-by-moment details of the events, as well as the personal interactions, would not have been part of the historical record. Therefore, the Enterprise-D holodeck recreation was a dramatization, fabricated as needed to make a better story. And hopefully, I have made a better story than the one they came up with.

********

Chapter 7

Looking out the window of the autocab en route to her room, T’Pol noted that the weather in San Francisco was much more typical than it had been on her last visit; a fine mist covered everything. She recalled standing in the bright sunlight outside the Reeds’ house, and Malcolm’s parting words to her.

“Remember, you’re going to have to sit tight till I’ve found you a ship. Could be a day or a week, so the best thing you can do is go back to work and act natural.”

Easy for him to say. Between the headaches and nausea, and the nervous anxiety, she was not sure that she would be able to act natural – perhaps it would be better if she took some time off away from everyone, somewhere where any odd behaviour would go unremarked.

She stifled a sigh. In fact, rather than trying to get away from San Francisco, she should take advantage of the fact that Dr. Phlox was likely still here. The autocab pulled up outside her door and she disembarked, unlocking the front door of the walkup using the security keypad, and climbing the single set of stairs to her room. Once inside, she dropped her travel sack from her shoulder, pulled out her personal communicator and keyed in his name.

*********

Phlox stood with his arms crossed, frowning at her as she sat on the diagnostic bed inside Starfleet Medical. “You showed none of these symptoms on your post-tour medical,” he commented, a fact they both knew already. “Did you experience any of them before the wedding ceremony?”

“No,” she replied succinctly. “The first symptoms appeared within 24 hours of my departure from Vulcan.” T’Pol had told Phlox only those facts necessary for him to understand what led up to her visit, and had not mentioned anything to do with her knowledge of Trip’s disappearance. While she knew Phlox had been part of the conspiracy, there was nothing to be gained by adding his name to those with whom she had discussed it.

“Well,” he said thoughtfully, “it certainly seems likely that the events of the wedding ceremony precipitated your condition. Whether those events are actually the cause is another question. Certainly brain scans will be necessary. I can continue to investigate this by myself, or I can call in one of the Vulcan physicians that is posted here; there are three excellent individuals with various specializations, and they might have more insight ...”

“No,” she replied again, this time with particular vigour. “I trust your skills are more than adequate to the task, Doctor. Continue.”

He nodded somewhat dubiously. “If you say so, T’Pol,” he acquiesced, “but there could be something that they might recognize that I would not; after all, it is well known to physicians in the IME that Vulcan doctors do not tell us everything about Vulcan biology, particularly in areas relating to Vulcan mating customs.”

She stifled a wince at his casual reference to such a sensitive topic. “I will take that chance for now, Doctor,” she said firmly. “Do what you can. I will pursue other avenues myself.”

“Very well,” Phlox agreed, resignedly, clearly vexed by the Vulcan unwillingness to discuss mating habits more openly. “Come over to the scanner and we’ll get started.”

*******

Phlox had found some irregularities in blood chemistry, and as a stop-gap measure had injected her with a bioregulator. “This will bring down some of the elevated hormone levels temporarily,” he explained, “but it will provide only symptomatic relief for a day or two at most. That will give me some time to examine your scans in more detail, however. You should plan to be back here not later than Wednesday afternoon. I will contact you tomorrow with an update.”

T’Pol had nodded and climbed off the bio-bed, already feeling somewhat less nauseous. It was possible that by Wednesday, Malcolm would have found her a ship, in which case she would miss that appointment – a chance she was willing to take, for she suspected that there was only one permanent cure for her condition, a cure that Dr. Phlox could not provide.

In fact, it had taken four days before Malcolm had made the contact, four days marked by a slight improvement in her condition due to the treatments, but no breakthrough in Phlox’s diagnosis.

The contact had come shortly after supper. “I’ve been able to make that booking for you to Brazil with a friend of mine, T’Pol,” Malcolm had stated cryptically. “He’ll be ready to leave around 0800 tomorrow. I expect you’ll enjoy the rest of your leave, he’s a very good tour guide.” She needed no more information, for various possible options had been discussed in advance, with the destination of her purported travel acting as a code for the rendezvous arrangements.

The time of the rendezvous had, in actuality, been 2300 that night, at the San Francisco Aerospace Terminal. There, garbed in a pair of nondescript coveralls with a hat pulled down over her forehead and ears, she had been greeted by one Orlando Vishnakov, an extremely personable gentleman with long, flowing, black curls, flashing black eyes, who sported expensive, well-cut clothes.

Funds had changed hands, considerably less than she had anticipated. “I owe Malcolm one or two,” Vishnakov had explained with a grin. “And it never hurts to have friends in high places. Besides, I’m kind of curious about all this.” He handed her an identicard whose chip, she was sure, contained her retinal scans and a suitably doctored photograph identifying her as an Earth citizen.

T’Pol raised her eyebrows. “Precisely what did Mr. Reed tell you?”

“Don’t worry, not too much – but if he had, it wouldn’t be a problem,” Vishnakov explained. “My clearance was higher than his when I left the section.”

In fact, T’Pol had been more interested in what Vishnakov might know that she did not, but she was reluctant to pry too much for fear he might have second thoughts about the risks involved. They had boarded his vessel, an innocuous looking freighter, and received clearance for departure almost immediately, T’Pol’s forged documents passing without comment.

Once they had left Earth’s atmosphere, Vishnakov had adjusted a few controls on the command console, and T’Pol had felt considerably more power engage than she had expected for a freighter. Vishnakov had chuckled at her expression. “There’re a few tricks under the hood of this baby,” he explained, “that make freighter runs a bit faster and more profitable. We’re hauling some rather interesting cargo that I was able to offer to carry for a friend of mine who had some engine trouble and an urgent delivery to make. According to our flight plan, destination the research station on Io. Except, according to my friend, we can expect a last minute diversion closer to Europa.”

“Europa,” T’Pol repeated. “There is nothing on Europa.”

Vishnakov grunted and flicked his hair over his shoulder. “I doubt if they intend us to just drop beryllium power cells and protein resequencers in the middle of nowhere. And for a dead moon, there’s been an awful lot of shipping activity in the vicinity lately.” Finishing the engaging of the autopilot, he turned and examined her critically. “They may not let us close. If I were them … whoever “them” is … I would arrange for a transfer vessel to pick things up. I presume you want to get closer than that.”

“Indeed,” T’Pol agreed. “And I presume that Mr. Reed did not engage you unless you were fairly resourceful and capable of some advance planning.”

Vishnakov grinned again. “Mmm, I suppose not. Let’s head back to the hold, then.”

There, he had showed her the shipping crates that contained the items to be delivered. The power cells were packaged in individual shielded cartons, each substantially larger than one smallish Vulcan. One of these cartons contained a small compartment hidden behind a false back, appropriately padded, into which T’Pol would be able to insert herself quite comfortably while wearing an emergency evacuation suit, which would provide her additional shielding to compensate for her location within the shielding of the carton.

“The suit’s got two hours of air, and there’s an extra tank in there with you,” Vishnakov explained. “You may not need any of this, depends on how the hand-off goes; if there’s a pressurized hold, you’ll be fine without. Before we hand you over, I’ll make sure we’re within reasonable range of Europa – if necessary we’ll extract you and come up with something else. That’ll get you into the off-loading area, after that you’re on your own,” he finished.

T’Pol nodded. “That will be satisfactory, Mr. Vishnakov, thank you,” she said, mentally reviewing the arrangements. “I believe I will be able to handle it from there.”

He nodded speculatively. “I don’t suppose you’d tell me why you’re so interested in whatever’s going on out there? It can’t be anything nefarious, or Malcolm would never be involved. That chap’s such a straight arrow, even when he’s being devious he’s principled. He must think it’s the right thing to do,” he continued thoughtfully, as T’Pol crossed her arms and showed no sign of responding to his probing. “Ah well,” he grinned and shrugged, “Perhaps I’ll get it out of him eventually. In the meantime, you might as well get some rest, it’s getting late and it’s still a couple of days to Europa.”

*********

The remainder of the trip passed with T’Pol alternating between meditation and rest, attempting to focus on controlling her recurring symptoms, which appeared to have changed somewhat in tenor. The headache had largely passed, but the anxiety had increased in pitch to a feverish nervousness that nothing would alleviate. Only with great strength of will could she refrain from pacing the small ship, and hammering the walls in frustration at their slow pace. Her meditation space, rather than being a place of quiet contemplation, now vibrated with an annoying deep-pitched hum that would not cease – whether this was a metaphor for her nervous state, or an indication of some sort of outside connection, she was unsure. Certainly it did not have the desired calming effect.

As a result, by the time they had reached the transfer point not far from Europa, and she had climbed into the compartment while wearing her EV suit, she was too preoccupied with simply being able to remain still enough to avoid detection to be nervous about what would happen after the transfer was complete.

As it happened, the transfer happened efficiently and without incident. Vishnakov’s credentials apparently passed muster, and if the cargo was scanned for humanoid life during the receipt inspection, the shielding around the power cells prevented her detection. The equipment was treated with care, and she barely felt a bump as the carton was passed from one ship to the other. They landed smoothly within 15 minutes of the transfer.

Her suit radio had been wired with an external microphone to pick up sounds outside the crate by direct conduction through the crate’s surface, and shortly after landing, she heard the hiss of repressurization, and then the sound of voices approaching. Her crate was placed on some sort of vehicle, and moved to another location on a trip of perhaps 5 minutes duration, passing through doors and down corridors. The crate was then removed, along with the other cargo. The voices echoed slightly as the crate handlers departed the storage area through a door that swished shut behind them. All fell silent.

Forcing herself to wait for sufficient time to ensure that the freight handlers were not returning, T’Pol then carefully opened the door of her compartment. The room was dark, but her EV suit had an internal light, and she turned it on low to provide her enough light to allow her to remove her suit, place it back within the carton, recover an additional satchel that she had filled with a selection of items she might need, and close up the compartment. There was now no sign of disturbance of the shipping crate.

Extracting another light from her satchel, she made her way to the exit and placed the microphone, which she had removed from her suit, against the door, listening for sounds in the corridor outside.

Satisfied that all was quiet, she examined the door controls. It was a simple mechanism; while there might have been some sort of alarm to prevent unauthorized entry, there was no such alarm to prevent exit from the storage area. Checking again for sound outside the door, she opened the door a small amount and inserted a mirror out into the corridor. It extended in either direction a fair way, with no signs or other indicators to suggest an appropriate direction.

She paused and closed her eyes. Yes, there was an indicator, an insistent tug that pulled her in one direction. She took a deep breath – her muscles were vibrating with excess energy. Then she pulled down her hat and exited the room, turning in the direction of the pull.

There appeared to be no security within the parts of the facility that she travelled; unimaginable perhaps that anyone could penetrate into a location that was only known to exist to a very few. She only came close to detection on one occasion, but her sensitive hearing allowed her to hear the approaching footsteps and hide behind a bulkhead until the two individuals, talking casually, passed by. Finally, she stood before a door marked “Chief Engineer”. He was not within, the tug continued to pull her onward. However, this was perhaps as good a place as any.

Again, she listened at the door, and, hearing nothing to indicate other occupants, she opened the door and entered silently, shutting the door behind her. The light was on, illuminating a small office, jammed full with technical drawings plastered over the walls, data disks piled on the desk, and multiple display screens. One screen was active.

It displayed a cavernous room, several stories tall. Perhaps thirty or forty people worked purposefully within, moving over and around a gigantic object, completely unrecognizable, but covered in obviously functional components pulsing with energy.

T’Pol watched this screen with intense curiosity, the tug in her mind almost forgotten, as she viewed what was obviously the centrepiece of the facility, the cause of the extreme secrecy and of Tucker’s precipitous departure from Enterprise. She examined the drawings on the wall, recognizing his terrible handwriting – her heart pounded as she ran her hand over it. She could barely read the notes he had jotted all over the drawings, and what little she could read did not illuminate her.

Shrugging with intense frustration, she turned and pulled the chair up to the computer located at the desk. She took the first data disk off the delicately balanced pile, inserted it into the data drive, and began to scan its contents. Her eyes darted back and forth, while her fingers touched the screen to scroll as needed. Every few minutes, she paused to absorb what she had read, or to change the disk. An hour passed without her noticing, completely preoccupied with what she was reading.

Without warning, the door opened, and the chief engineer of the Europa Research Station entered his office, intensely perusing a data padd as he closed the door behind him. He looked up to make his way to his desk, and stopped short, as if slammed into a door, an expression of utter shock on his face.

Sitting erect, her hands folded on the desk in front of her, T’Pol stated icily, “Mr. Tucker, I believe you have some explaining to do.”

Part 8

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A whole mess of folks have made comments

OK. All I have to say, is *please* update this soon. Oh, and great chapter :-)

Excellent! Can't wait for the next chapter.

Yippee! You've updated! Yippee! It's a fabulous post! Yippee! T'Pol's found Trip! Oh, crap - you stopped there. How could you do such a horrid thing? Uugghhhh!

Please, pretty please, update soon!! **lays out
offering of cyber brownies** Please, may we have some more soon?

-j

p.s. - T'Pol, my dear, such an antagonistic greeting for your t'hyla? and when you're in such a degree of need for his 'assistance'? tsk, tsk.

Oh my, my, my! I canNOT wait for that confrontation! Such an evil cliffhanger there! I hope the next chapter will come out soon.

Great job of keeping us turkeys in suspense.

Very nice! And yes, Mr. Tucker does have some explaining to do! Looking forward to the next chapter...

fantastic! dying to read the next update!...

Great chapter. Horrible, evil cliffhanger... Can't wait to see how Trip handles the fact that T'Pol found him (and why she went looking for him) and incidently the highly secretive base he's working at... Though I just got this image in my mind with that last line of Lucy and Desi with his trademark, 'Lucy, you got some 'splaining to do...'

HOLY CLIFFHANGER, BATMAN! What a way to end the chapter. Great stuff! I can't wait for the next update!

Love the last line. I can just imagine the look on Trip's face when he sees Tpol.

I absolutely loved the cloak and dagger aspect of this one. I could literally see T'Pol all curled up in that crate expending all of her energy trying to keep still and fight off claustrophobia while she's dying to see OMT. And then she's too stubborn to show him how much she's missed him when she finally finds him. How wonderfully Vulcan of her! I'm gonna have a knot in my gut until you update, so please make it soon. : )

Great update. Gotta agree with some of the above comments: A VERY EVIL CLIFFHANGER. Can't wait for more.

CLIFFHANGER!!!! AHHH!!!

lol, I was just waiting for her to run into him randomly in the corridor or something, this is great! I really thought that inside all T'Pol wanted to do once she found him is throw herself into his arms but I forget, we're still operating under the assumption that they *WERE* broken up for 6 years prior to "that-which-must-not-be-named" right?

And it IS more Vulcan of her to be irked with him, but I hope she embraces him like she wants to soon! :D

Great story, UPDATE FASTTTTT!

Another excellent chapter. Can't wait for more. Soon please !!

Mwa ha ha, that was reeeeeeeally evil of you! I can't wait for mo-ore! I can't wait for mo-ore! Ya da da da da-daa! :)

That was one heck of a place to leave us hanging! LOL Their conversation ought to be very interesting. Please update soon!!!

YAY!! Ive been waitin for TnT to finaly meet up,,,, an Oh boy dos Trip got a lot explainin to do. Im really wonderin what the heck Trips workin on there at that secret base,,, almost more worried bout that then seein TnT kiss an make up. ;) So to speak.

Great Chapie loved the Cloak an dagger stuff to.
Cant wait for the next update.

Brilliant line out of T'Pol at the end. He sure as hell does have a lot of explaining to do. Terrific chapter, and oh what a torturing cliffhanger. :)

AGGHH!!! You can't leave us there like that! Quick, woman, post an update! SOOOON!!!

Please update soon! Don't make us wait tooo long! Great chapter by the way! :)

Lucy yews got some xplainin' to do! That's all I could hear in with that last line. Nicely done.

Please stop making us wait so long between posts.

Well, that last comment was inspired by comments of you very reviewers to the previous chapters. Let it not be said that you don't have an impact on the outcomes!
As for timing between posts, for a while I was afraid it'd be even longer, given the amount of RL I've been dealing with.

This is really excellent. Thanks for writing.

That's a helluva cliffhanger!!

More!

Soon!!

More! Soon!!!

Oh, superbly written.

MORE!!!!

Aaaaaaaaargh! I've waited a lifetime for this chapter, and then you give me just enough to get me salivating and then tug it away. Loved the image of T'Pol in the crate and Trip's shocked face, but I must say this is like letting me taste Godiva chocolate and then telling me I have to wrap it up and save it for a few weeks! Please don't make it that long, Ev!

Emily
(Hey, if I can't have more of this fic, I can have the next best thing, right? ; ) )

*runs off to eat Godiva chocolate*