The Messiah- Pt. 3

The Messiah

By JD1

Rating: PG, Mystery, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Paramount. No profit was made

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Part Three

**California**

“Can you go any faster?” Archer urged Travis. They were a half an hour away and the meeting was about to begin.

“We’re going as fast as the safety limits allow, sir,” Travis warned.

“Then forget the safety limits!” Archer ordered. “I want to be there in twenty minute or less.”

“Aye, sir.” Travis went up to warp seven, the fastest any ship could go but not the safest. The normal speed to travel was at Warp six which they had done for the entire way.

“Sir, the core’s becoming unstable! It can’t take much more of this!” Trip announced five minutes later.

“Not yet. Travis?”

“Eight more minutes, sir.”

“Admiral,” Trip hissed. After a few grueling minutes, they dropped out of Warp to see the planet Vulcan right in front of them. “Admiral, the core’s pretty much fried. It’s going t’ take at least five hours to fix.”

“I’ll give you three, no more.”

“Jon, even with the resources of this ship, I don’t think that’s goin’ to be enough time!”

Archer and Trip stared at each other for a few minutes, seeing who was going to be the first to back down. “All right, T’Pol, get a team working on the core. Have every engineer on it, if you have to. I just want it back up by the time I step onto the ship again.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Malcolm, Trip, Mayweather, you’re with me. We’ll need weapons.”

“Already on that, sir,” Malcolm said, almost with pride.

“Should I have the shuttle pod warmed up?” Travis asked.

“No, we’re going by transporter,” Archer said to them just as the turbolift doors closed.

After scanning all of the diplomatic buildings, they signaled out all but one. It was the only one that had Vulcan, Human, a Vulcan/Human hybrid, and four anomalies bio-signs. They beamed down and rematerialized in an empty hall. The walls were gray and bare. The lighting seemed nonexistent for it was very dark.

Cautiously, they headed toward the Human/Vulcan signature. Their weapons were upholstered and ready to fire. They walked through a maze of corridors until they reached the room Shiloh was in.

Silently, Malcolm, who had the scanner, that there were sixteen other people in the room. Archer cursed, inwardly, as he tried to come up with a plan. He motioned for them to move away from the door and asked, "Can you detect anyone else in here?"

"Two others down the hall. Why?" Malcolm answered, his voice hushed.

"Is there any type of vegetation or meat products in their vicinity?"

"Yes, why?" Malcolm responded, confused as to where this was heading.

"Then it's a good bet they're the stewards and are preparing lunch," Archer explained.

"And we could pretend to be them," Trip continued.

"Malcolm and I should go. You two know Admiral Forrest personally, he'll recognize you the minute you stepped foot inside."

"Travis is right. We'll go," Malcolm said.

"Alright, we'll wait out here; watching the door. You two, take their spots, get in there, and see what we're up against."

"Yes, sir," the both said.

Getting in wasn't that hard. They taken the stewards by surprise and knocked them out effortlessly. Both wore Starfleet uniforms, so they just took their pips and replaced theirs. The food was already made and ready to be served, so they took the trays and walked to through the tunnel connecting the rooms.

When they walked in, the talking abruptly stopped and all eyes were on them. They were not yelled at or anything meaning they were supposed to be there. They started to hand out food, staying silent and observing the situation.

Travis's eyes locked with Shiloh's. Shiloh and Travis had been good friends on Enterprise and he knew immediately that it was him. Travis would not align himself with this madness, he knew that meant that they were trying to help him. Shiloh looked over at Malcolm and saw the look on his face. It was a hidden message for him that said to stay quiet.

Once the diplomats saw that they were only the stewards, they started to talk again. Malcolm and Travis listened carefully and made sure they worked slowly so they could heard as much as possible.

"We have the child, who is virtually unharmed. And as soon as we’re gone, you will never hear from us again. We assure your protection. Our masters will not harm you," A Taso said.

"Exactly, he is virtually unharmed. We agreed that he would not be hurt, period!" Declared one of the Human ambassadors. Malcolm remembered that he was Ambassador White, the ambassador sent to 'observe' Trip and T'Pol.

"He will be fine in a few days; there is no permanent harm done. If we do not deliver him to our masters in two days, they will come and hunt you down. Find out why and get him," The same Taso announced.

"You violated the agreement and that's what we'll tell them," came the cool retort from Soval.

Malcolm and Travis had finished passing out the food and walked out into the passageway. Once the door had closed they breathed a sigh of relief. "Well he's ok. That's good."

"What are they talking about? Who are their masters?"

"I wish I knew," Malcolm stated. "Those Tasos, sitting to the right of the one that spoke, that was Captain Terion and Uion."

"I thought they looked familiar. But how are we going to get him out of there?"

Malcolm thought about it for a minute; his tactical mind coming back to him.

Malcolm and Travis had finished passing out the food and walked out into the passageway. Once the door had closed they breathed a sigh of relief. "Well he's ok. That's good."

"What are they talking about? Who are their masters?"

"I wish I knew," Malcolm stated. "Those Tasos, sitting to the right of the one that spoke, that was Captain Terion and Uion."

"I thought they looked familiar. If that is them-” Travis stopped mind sentence not wanting to finish and Malcolm understood. Then he said, “But how are we going to get him out of there?"

Malcolm thought about it for a minute; his tactical mind coming back to him. He sighed and said, “We’ve got to find some way to get all of them out into the halls, snatch him, and get the hell out of here.”

“That’s the plan?”

“Better than nothing,” Malcolm remarked as they walked back to the room they had started in.

“How are we going to get them out of there?”

Malcolm looked at him and said, “We attack.”

The plan would work, it had to. The California would fire a few shots one hundred meters away and, hopefully, scare them out into the halls.

“Here goes nothing,” Archer mumbled as he gave the signal. The entire place shook and alarms went off. All four of them stood off to the sides and tried to stay relatively out of the way. The doors opened and the seventeen people walked, or rather ran, out of the room.

Malcolm ran and tried to grab Shiloh but his attempts were halted by a Taso getting in his way. They seemed to have surrounded him; trying to protect him, almost. One Taso said something into his communicator and all five disappeared.

The other eight, startled by them, froze momentarily. Malcolm, Archer, Trip, and Travis all pointed their phasers at them and kept them from going anywhere.

“Interesting job; stealing and selling children,” Trip mocked after seeing his mother and father-in-laws in the group of delegates.

“We can explain.”

“Don’t even bother,” Trip spat at Sevel when he tried to talk.

“We should take them back to the California, maybe they know where the Taso are going,” Archer said.

They beamed up to the California and had the eight people escorted to the brig. Travis and Malcolm stayed with them while Trip and Archer scurried to the bridge and filled in T’Pol.

“They left a few minutes ago, we were unable to track them,” T’Pol reported the status of what had happened on the ship. Trip’s eyes were not focused on his wife but instead on the figure next to her.

“Hoshi?”

“Hello, Captain- I mean Admiral. Trip.” Hoshi was beaming. They had not seen each other for a long time; not since the year after Enterprise’s mission ended.

“When did you get here?” Archer asked, in as much shock as Trip.

“I work at the communications center on Vulcan. We detected your ship and thought it odd that you had no orders to be here nor had you contacted us ahead of time. I wanted to check it out and was shocked to find T’Pol as the captain,” Hoshi explained.

Trip and Archer both nodded. Before turning their attention back to the matter at hand. “Shiloh?” T’Pol asked.

Trip walked over to her before he said, “They took ‘im.” She appeared on the verge of crying but held it in like all of her other emotions she had so successfully hidden. ‘We’ll find him, again, I promise.’

When she heard Trip’s voice, she looked up at him with a half-hearted smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She nodded and stated, “We should question the… delegates. They may know something.”

“T’Pol, there’s somethin’ you need t’ know first.” She stopped and looked back at Trip before he continued, “Your parents are two of the ‘delegates’.”

She was the nonplussed Vulcan on the outside, but Trip could sense that it was a pretty big blow to her. She closed her eyes and just turned to get in the turbolift. Trip sighed and followed her lead. Followed by Archer, who walked in after the two, and they headed to the brig.

**Brig**

“Where are they taking Shiloh?” Archer asked all of them. They had asked tons of questions and, strangely enough, they had answered every one of them. Their looks were sincere and taken literally.

For the moment, though, they were behind an energy field which was keeping them in a confined area, so Archer, Trip, and T’Pol could keep an eye on them. No matter their protests, the minute they found Shiloh, they would be handed over to the proper authorities. For now though, T’Pol was arranging confined quarters for them.

“They will be taking him back to their masters’ home world,” T’Rith answered.

“Were is that? Who are they?” Malcolm inquired.

“The Taso never told us. We don’t have any idea,” Forrest insisted.

“We do know that they may be in the Jetogato system,” one of the younger delegates said.

“Travis.”

“I’m on it, sir.” Travis walked out the door and headed for the bridge.

“All right, now how ‘bout some ‘why’s,” Trip said with a very menacing glare.

**Taso Ship**

They rematerialized in the same room that they left from. His eyes stung at the sudden change in lighting and coloration. After a minute or two, he could again see in the new place. He was lead off the platform and guided outside. He could feel that they had gone to Warp and he had a pretty good idea where they were going: their masters’ home planet.

When they arrived at his quarters, Deacon was in there, tiding the place up. “Get out!” Terion barked at him.

Startled, he looked up at the group standing by the door with terror in his eyes. He looked down at his feet and mumbled an apology. Then, he grabbed the few things he had brought with him and tried to escape out the door.

“Wait!” Shiloh called and he turned around. “Don’t go. I’ll get bored again.”

“You don’t want this…thing to be your company. I can-”

“No, him,” Shiloh said, cutting Terion off with his natural dominancy. He knew that he had quite a bit of power over them and he was learning to use it for good purposes only.

“Of course.”

“You’re dismissed,” Shiloh said to him and the others left, leaving Deacon and Shiloh alone.

“You are getting better at accepting what must be done.”

“Excuse me?” Shiloh asked, bewildered.

“You will be their messiah at this rate. There is no stopping it. And the way you have the ability to control them proves that.”

“No!” Shiloh said, defending himself in a half futile battle. “I’m only doing it to… I only did it to help you. I didn’t want you in trouble.”

“Thanks for the concern,” Deacon said as he went back to work. Shiloh sighed and decided to help him. He picked up a rag and helped him as he washed the walls. Shiloh had wondered what the walls felt like ever since he got on board. They were solid and sturdy but soft and cushiony to the touch. “You don’t have to help.”

“And you don’t have to clean,” Shiloh retorted and looked at him. Their eyes locked as they did the same thing Archer and Trip would do; stared into the other’s eyes until one cracked. Deacon looked away and ignored his comment and his actions.

**The California, Brig**

“They came to us fifteen years ago. They told us that if we didn’t cooperate…their masters would…destroy all of Earth and Vulcan,” Forrest explained.

“They told us that a Vulcan and Human would have a child that would save their masters. If we did not allow that to happen, they would kill all of us. They told us that they had selected two…subjects and had collected plenty of information to make their plan work,” T’Rith added.

“When we found out about most details, they had already happened or were too far along to stop. We had no say in what happened, who was chosen, or anything,” White said, his voice solemn.

“And you just sat by and watched all this happen?” Malcolm said, repulsion filled his voice.

“We didn’t have a choice. How do you think we felt? It was our daughter, our grandson,” T’Pela said, her voice just as guilty and remorseful as the others.

“Yea, well he’s my son.” Trip sulked out of the room and finally felt the blow he should have a long time ago. The reality of his situation came to him in full force as the shock wore off and he realized that he might never see his son again.

He leaned against the wall and started to cry. He had slid down the wall and was sitting on the ground even as his silent sobs continued. As the tears followed down his checks, T’Pol walked out and saw him like that. She knelt down next to him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. She smiled, trying to reassure him, but he kept crying; letting out the pain and betrayal he felt.

“So, have you ever seen this place?” Shiloh asked causally as he and Deacon cleaned the floor.

“A few times.”

“Nice place?”

“Gorgeous. But lately, they’ve been ignoring the planet, and it’s no longer as beautiful,” Deacon answered, remorse in his tone.

“Shame. So, what are they called? Do you know?”

“Of course. They are the A’j’ay,” Deacon said causally as he finished the section he was working on.

“Wait, why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“You never asked,” Deacon said with a smirk but sincerity in his voice. Shiloh just shot him an annoyed look, the one he had inherited. “It’s getting late. I should go and let you sleep.”

Deacon had packed everything up and headed toward the door. “Night,” Shiloh called as he walked out the door. He walked to his bed and hopped in. His eyes closed and his exhaustion came over him.

He stood in a doorway, looking out at a beautiful landscape. There were mountains with snow-covered peeks in the background. In the foreground, apple trees and green grass with flowers everywhere in the mid- and foreground. A crystal blue lake cut itself through the blades of grass that grew.
He looked up at the sky. It was night and the stars where out. He looked at them and starred in admiration that they were so far away from anything, yet so close to many things.
He turned away from the window and saw no one anywhere. As he walked down the halls, he heard the sound of his feet echoing in the empty halls.

The images of Trip and Archer grabbing him and the three of them running in the middle of the night, blended with the image of him standing on a starship. It seemed as though he was on a lovely planet, running through the opened fields in the pitch black heading toward a forest. Then he was on what appeared to be the California.
Then, the scene changed to him on Vulcan. The sands where scorched; black instead of the natural golden tan they’re supposed to be. The buildings where nothing but ruble; they were burnt to nothing. Corpses where everywhere. Some crushed under the building’s remains and others burnt to death by the fires that destroyed the buildings.
Again, the images changed to that of Earth. The buildings and people where identical to Vulcan’s brunt and destroyed ones. There was no more grass, no more waters, nothing but flattened and cratered Earth and scorched ground.

He shot up in his bed, his breathing fast and husky. Slowly, he laid his head back onto the pillow. He starred up at the ceiling as he thought of all that he had seen in his dream.

The last dream he had had, just recently began to make sense. For one, it told him that he had to cooperate and trust the Taso. Secondly, it told him that, wherever he was going, they would treat him well and consider him important.

What had never made sense until now, was the feeling of claustrophobia the room created. This dream explained all that. If he stayed, he would forever be lonely and long to go home. Yet, if he left with them, Vulcan and Earth would be destroyed.

It was a trap. Something predetermined that had no other way to escape. This decision was his and that was not something he was comfortable with. He wanted…no… needed another choice. Something that would lead to neither of these consequences.

**The California, Bridge**

They arrived in the Jetogato system at last. The up side to this was that they were not fired upon in this region of space for they had no claim to any of it. The down side was that it wasn’t charted making it a lot harder.

The system was eight planets orbiting a red giant. Five of the eight were M-class and four of those were populated. Trip, Travis, Archer, Malcolm, Hoshi, and T’Pol were huddled around the Helm trying to decide which one was the right one.

“They said they didn’t know which planet, so we’ll have to make our best guess,” Archer announced to the group.

Trip wasn’t paying much attention. Instead he was looking intensely at the screen of the Helm. They had called up a picture of the four inhabited planets. One seemed eerily familiar but he couldn’t place it.

There was one with a molten red like surface. It appeared to have hundreds of craters on it, which scans indicated were caused long ago by eruptions. They planet was now safe to on but was several degrees higher than most humans are used to.

Something about the planet told him that they should go there. He had always trusted his gut feelings and he would not stop that now. He could vaguely hear Archer saying something along the lines of trying the first planet when he said, “That one.”

They all looked at him. “Why that one?”

“Just a gut feelin'. Trust me, Jon, that one’s it.”

Archer looked at him while he considered it. “All right. Travis, set a course.”

**Taso Ship**

In the mourning, he went through the same routine: Deacon came with his breakfast and they talked about whatever. Then, Deacon changed his bandages and left so he did not get in trouble with the Taso. Later, he came back with their lunch and again they talked of whatever they wished.

Only this time, Deacon told him that he heard word that they were about to arrive at the A'j'ay's home world. Seconds after he mentioned it, Captain Terion and Uion walked in.

"We have just arrived at Ajtowea," Terion declared. Shiloh looked over at Deacon and his looked asked if that was their masters' home world. His silent question was met with the slightest of nods.

"Come, they are awaiting us." Shiloh stood up and walked over to them. He gave a sidelong glance at Deacon and he gave his nod of support. The group then walked out the door and headed for the transporter room.

**The California**

T’Pol walked hastily down the corridor. The delegates had finally been brought to temporary quarters until this was all figured out and T’Pol was not going to let her parents off the hook any time soon.

She had not wanted to say anything while they were with the others and she was likely to loss control. But now, they would be alone and she would have no shame in doing so.

She rounded the corner and could see the security guards assigned to watch her parent’s door. They were all confined to their quarters and guards were posted to make sure of that. When she walked up to the door, the guards moved aside and allowed her entrance.

They were sitting on the bed but stood when they heard the door open. “T’Pol,” her father said in a stoic yet guilty way. But T’Pol remained silent even as he tried to exchange greetings. “We can explain.”

“Silence,” T’Pol barked at him. Her training as a commanding officer had taught her to yell without really yelling with any emotion in it. “I do not want an explanation, I want to know why. Why do you agree to this?”

“We did not want to. We were forced to negotiate with them and…you were just chosen. By the time that was told to us, it was too late,” T’Pela justified.

T’Pol starred at her, her eyes filled with unsheltered or repressed rage. “And even if it was not me, would you still have cared? Or would it be fine because it was not your child? Not your grandchild?”

Both her parents looked away, ashamed of their actions and even feelings toward the entire situation. They loved their daughter as much as the next parent; they loved their grandson as much as his parents. But, truth be told, they most likely would have been able to detach themselves far easier if it had not been T’Pol.

“I see. Then I shall leave you. If you wish to speak of any information you have, contact myself, Trip, or Admiral Archer.” With that, she walked out, her resolve slipping far more than she would ever admit to; more than she cared to even think about at the moment.

**Ajtowea**

They beamed down to the most beautiful planet Shiloh had ever seen. A thousand or so meters away, stood snowcapped-mountains and white clouds that floated not much higher above. What looked like apple trees where in rows everywhere.

He was led on a path that seemed to lead up to a huge building. A palace almost. But, no matter its beauty and majestic appearance, his attention was on the hundreds of people gathering around him.

At first, this scared him, but then he began to look at their faces. They were hopeful yet frightened, alive despite their ragged, passive looks. They pleaded with him to help them; prayed to not be ignored.

He saw that they ranged from the tender age of three or four to the elderly age of eighty some years old. Yet there was one child that caught his eye. She was about five or six in human years. Her black hair flowed past her shoulders and her golden brown eyes sparkled in the bright sun.

Shiloh walked over to her and knelt down to be eye level with her. He smiled and prayed that they spoke a language close to the others'. "Hi, I'm Shiloh. What's your name?" His tone was gentle and polite.

She smiled back at him and giggled. Then said, "Ta'te'a."

His smile brightened; glad she understood. "It's nice to meet you, Ta'te'a." He looked back at the Taso guarding and escorting him. They seemed impatient and very uneasy with his speaking with the child. He brushed her shoulder, stood, and again walked with them.

They entered the building through the huge gold doors. He gasps when he saw the inside of the palace. The ceiling was almost three stories tall. The walls were golden and had symbols covering them. Twenty long columns, spread evenly among the halls, kept the ceiling from falling down. Blue, red, purple, and gold drapes hung from the ceiling. Tapestries telling of the history of the planet, were hung all over the walls and laid on the floor as rungs.

When they reached the end of the long hall, a throne of sorts was placed on a platform, twenty steps leading up to it. Terion, Uion, and the other Tasos bowed to the man, presumably the ruler of the A'j'ay people. Shiloh, not wanting to offend him, emulated them and bowed down to him.

The man's laugh echoed in the large hall. "Look, the mat'iah bows to me. Stand, boy! I do not want to be the one responsible for your clothes being dirty, now do I?" Shiloh, startled by his words, stood. He straightened himself into a ridged stance, allowing the Vulcan in him to take over momentarily. "This is all you give him to wear. No, no, that is not acceptable. Go find him something more suitable."

One of his attendants rushed off to fulfill the task assigned to him. Then, he stood and walked down the stairs to come closer to Shiloh. "I do not require any more clothing than I am already wearing."

"None sense, child. What shall I call you? Your title is too formal and I hate formalities. And child is not sufficient to your status."

"My given name is Shiloh. You may refer to me as that if you wish," Shiloh answered, his tone steady and emotionless. "And what am I to call you?"

"Well I am emperor, but, like I said, I do hate formalities. So call me Ti'en; my given name."

Shiloh nodded. The air of the emperor was soothing. He was like a small child; speaking frantically of one thing only to start speaking of another before you knew what the first thing was about.

He wore gold and red robes. His cape, which flowed elegantly behind him, was a silky red material and hooked around his neck by a gold fastener. He had a stride that portrayed his leadership and power, yet had the curiosity of a Human child.

"Ah, where are my manners? Allow me to introduce my council. This is my chief advisor, Karu Gabi." He pointed to a man that was in his late forties, early fifty in human terms. His face was hard and he seemed to be a practical yet suspicious man.

Next, he pointed to a much younger man. He was muscular and obviously worked out a lot. His eyes and posture gave away his ferocious and aggressive nature. "This is the grand master of Ubi Tiga, Grand Master T'poish." At Shiloh's confused look, he added, "Ubi Tiga is a form of Martial Arts."

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