Reflections of Another Universe - Part 4

TRIP/T’POLERS MU FANFIC CHALLENGE

Reflections of Another Universe

By: Misplaced

Rating: PG-13 for mild violence, language and some sexual situations
Disclaimer: Nope, don’t own any of the Enterprise characters. I do this for free.
e-mail: einar_n_randi@msn.com
Archive: Yeah, just let me know where.
Genre: Mirror Universe, Action & Angst
Spoilers: “In a Mirror, Darkly”
Summary: The mirror universe crew of the NX-01 go on a mission to rescue a captured member of the crew… while trying to keep a mutiny on ship at bay.

A/N: I began writing this fic before some of the newer spoilers for the MU episodes were revealed, so it’s not exactly true to the spoilers… with the exception that my little fic ONLY takes place in the mirror universe—where there has not been a Xindi attack on earth. There are NO real universe characters in my story. Special thanks to my betas: Kevin and T’Leela. You guys have helped me push my limits as a writer!

Summary: Taking a page out of Quills’ book, I thought I would give you a brief summary since it’s been a long while since I’ve updated this story. Trip has been captured by a Vulcan ship (Vulcans and Humans aren’t exactly friendly) and T’Pol has been his interrogator. Where we left them last, T’Pol has mind-melded with Trip to try and find out why he was in Vulcan space… Instead she discovers what he most wants to keep from himself. The secret of Sim. Archer is chasing after the Vulcan ship to rescue Trip, while Malcom is making moves for a hostile take-over. I think that should sum things up pretty well. On to the story now:

8-26-05

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Part 4 (Chapters 10-12)

Chapter Ten – What a Difference a Day Makes

Trip opened his eyes as T’Pol withdrew her hand with a hiss. The loss of her touch deepened the hollowness he felt. She had opened a door in his mind that he had wanted to leave closed for the rest of his life. She had made him relive every moment in vivid detail, every moment that he had locked away from himself. Even now he found himself pushing away the raw emotions coursing through his body. Trip didn’t want to remember, and he was angry with her for forcing him to.

“A clone?” T’Pol inquired quietly. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he remained silent, afraid of the answer himself. He rubbed his eyes and was surprised to find wetness. When he finally brought his eyes up to meet hers, he found her looking at him with an expression of curiosity.

Trip snorted. “Are you asking if I’m a clone?” he said. T’Pol raised an eyebrow. “No, not exactly,” he continued.

“I do not understand,” she said plainly.

Trip raised his eyes to the ceiling. How could he explain it to her? How could he explain that Malcom’s explosion didn’t kill him outright as planned? How could he explain that Phlox couldn’t resist the opportunity for another experiment? Phlox had been ‘encouraged’ by Archer to let Trip die, but he hadn’t. The Captain had been angry when he found out that Phlox had made a clone. Eventually the Doctor had been able to convince Archer that in saving the Chief Engineer would mean that Trip would be in debt to him.

Trip’s loyal engineering crew had balked at the notion of following Kelby—Archer’s man; he wasn’t strong enough to be the kind of leader that the Captain needed to keep Malcom at bay, at least not as strong as Trip. Saving the Chief Engineer would have created a forced alliance; a plan that had backfired on Archer—though he did get the alliance in the end. Trip shook his head.

“This,” he said as he pointed to one side of his head, “is me.” He pointed to the other side of his head, “Most of this is… the other one.” Trip didn’t bother to hide the disgust in his voice.

“The clone was created in order to transplant healthy?” she asked, seeking more clarification. Trip sighed. The Vulcan wasn’t going to let it go and it was frustrating. He stood up and moved to his bunk.

“Yeah, that’s about it.” T’Pol didn’t stand, but instead shifted from kneeling to sitting cross-legged facing him.

“And you find that distasteful?” she asked.

Trip looked at her incredulously. “Of course I do!” he exclaimed, “Goddamnit, they cloned me! Me! And then put half of him in my head! They killed him so they could save me!” Trip took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, before speaking again, this time in a calmer voice.

“I’m not the same man anymore.” He didn’t like saying it out loud. He didn’t like admitting that he didn’t know where he ended and where the clone began.

“Sim,” he said quietly, reminding himself that the clone had a name. T’Pol raised an eyebrow.

“That was his name,” Trip explained.

“You believe you killed him,” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone. Trip grimaced as a wave of guilt washed over him followed by a dose of self-loathing. T’Pol furrowed her brow as she watched his expression turn dark. What the hell is this? A psychological evaluation?

“Why the hell do you care?” he snapped back at her, louder than he intended. T’Pol didn’t answer him; instead she seemed to wait patiently for an explanation. There was something in her eyes that he hadn’t noticed before. He didn’t know what to make of it; it was most decidedly not negative. Could she actually care? Trip shook his head. She was his interrogator and a Vulcan—of course she didn’t care. He looked at her once more and found her still waiting quietly for him to speak.

“Isn’t this conversation illogical?” he smirked at her. She had stripped him naked with that meld and he’d be damned there weren’t going to be consequences. T’Pol’s eyes flickered and he knew he was right. He narrowed his eyes as he spoke.

“What? You wanna understand the freak better now?” he said as he watched her become more rigid, “Scientific curiosity and all?”

T’Pol’s silence was answer enough for him. “That’s what I thought,” he replied with a sneer, "You’re just like the Doc.” He didn’t keep the bitterness from his voice.

“Your comparison is inaccurate.” Her voice was quiet, but the tension was unmistakable. He didn’t care that he had offended her, not after what she had done to him.

“Well, it looks pretty accurate from where I’m sitting, sweetheart,” he responded in a tone laced with venom. He spread his arms and continued, “Take a good look and get your money’s worth. You won’t get another chance to study the Frankenstein monster!”

She stared at him and again he saw something in her eyes that made him regret his accusation: Compassion. He couldn’t tear his eyes away to deny the unmistakable emotion that lay in hers. She’s Vulcan, damnit! She wouldn’t have compassion for a prisoner! Finally, he managed to break the contact and rubbed his eyes. He felt suddenly deflated, empty, confusion washing the fight from him. Trip shook his head and mustered the courage to look at T’Pol once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hoshi was late. Archer stifled the anger rising in his chest. He knew why she was late; and yet he would do nothing about it for now. He needed her to believe that he was oblivious to her liaisons with Malcom. He needed her to believe that he was going soft and blind while head-over-heels in love with the two-timing slut.

The wine sat on the small desk with two long-stemmed glasses. A candle flickered there, as well as others scattered throughout the room. Archer wished Hoshi would hurry up. He didn’t trust himself to keep the growing rage at bay for long as he tried not to imagine what she and Malcom were doing.

Finally the door chimed and he considered letting her ring a few times more. Instead he stood, knowing that he needed to act like a love-sick fool. He opened the door with the most enigmatic smile he could stretch onto his lips.

Hoshi slipped into the room, smelling faintly of lavender and soap. Good. She had at least had the decency to shower between her little conquests. A grin graced her lovely features as she saw the wine and candles.

“All this for me?” she asked in a voice that resembled a schoolgirl’s. Archer pulled her close, pressing his lips to hers.

“Who else?” he answered between kisses. He slid his hands down to gently undo the satin sash of her robe. As soon as it fell open, she grasped his hands in hers and forced them to her shoulders where he slid the robe off of her soft skin. Archer found his jealous thoughts of Malcom fleeing as he enjoyed Hoshi’s curves.

He was not, however, so lost in the moment that he failed to notice her hand moving towards her back. He gave her a second before catching her arm as she moved to attack. She fought him, but it was futile, as his strength was much greater than hers. He deftly twisted her arm up her back, forcing her to drop the dagger. Without speaking, Archer shoved her hard to the bed, where she watched with terror as he picked up the knife.

“Hoshi, Hoshi, Hoshi,” he tsked as he walked slowly toward her, “I thought you knew better.” Hoshi stared at him with eyes wide with dread. Archer savored the moment. The scent of her fear sweat was heady. When he brought down the dagger, she closed her eyes, expecting the fate she had meant for him. Instead, he jabbed the knife into the pillow as he kissed her hungrily. There was nothing more exciting than taking the woman who tried to kill him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

T’Pol would have taken offense at Commander Tucker’s accusations, but a part of her recognized he was being irrational. His anguish, lingering from the mind meld, still resonated within her. She could not rise to the bait that he had laid before her. Instead she stared at him in silence, feeling an illogical need to comfort him. When he raised his eyes to look at her once more, his face softened; the anger dissipating. Again, she saw that same pain in his eyes and she knew that he did think of himself as a monster, as less than—well—human.

T’Pol decided to give into her desire to comfort him. She did feel a certain apprehension regarding how she would convey her sympathy and how he would receive it. In their encounters, he often seemed to misunderstand her intentions and would become most disagreeable. Still, she stood and sat down tentatively next to him. The Commander watched her with a look on his face that conveyed his disbelief.

“It is illogical for you to feel guilt over events that were beyond your control,” she said in soft voice, hoping that he understood her acceptance of him. Acceptance? T’Pol took a moment to consider that thought, and decided it was an accurate description of how she perceived this human. His physical condition held little importance to her.

Of course, she realized such thoughts were entirely inappropriate.

“I just can’t…” Commander Tucker began, but didn't continue. His eyes were glistening, his respiration increased, and T’Pol wanting to prevent the flow of tears that would surely follow, hesitantly placed a hand on his arm. Through the contact, she felt his torment more keenly. It threatened to overpower her when he brought his free hand to place over hers. She had not taken into consideration how the physical contact might affect her.

The flow of his sadness lessened; she felt a sense of relief wash over the Commander. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand and spoke, his voice laden with remorse. “What I said, I… I was just angry,” he fumbled the words.

“An apology is unnecessary,” she interrupted, not wanting the moment to become even more awkward. T’Pol did feel awkward and yet, strangely comfortable. Perhaps it was because Commander Tucker had been revealed to her on such an intimate level that she felt as if she knew him well.

“Thanks, I guess,” he said as he squeezed her hand. It was at this that T’Pol became intensely aware of the tension between the two of them, tension that was clearly based on their mutual physical attraction. That open admission to herself was shocking, the more logical part of her mind screamed out in objection. He was human, he was a prisoner, he had violated Vulcan space, he had driven her to distraction with his volatile nature and yet...she felt more for him than she had ever for Koss. Again her rational side protested her inappropriate behavior.

“Commander—“ she spoke, wanting to break the spell he seemed to have cast over her, turning her head away from him. He squeezed her hand again, this time gentle rubbing his thumb across her wrist. The increase in tension was palpable and T’Pol had to gather her strength not to give over to her foolish side.

“Trip—“ she said, not intending to use the name he preferred to be called. This human certainly had her befuddled. She had only intended to comfort him, but things were not going according to plan, not at all.

“T’Pol,” he returned in a tone that sounded hopeful before she could finish speaking. She brought her eyes to meet his. It was a mistake. Perhaps he had some unknown power, but T’Pol’s argument against a continuation of their current behavior seemed less important once she looked into his blue eyes.

T’Pol didn’t know how long they sat like that, holding hands and staring into one another’s eyes, but the Commander did eventually break the moment in a way that was unexpected and at the same time most desirable. He brought his lips tentatively to hers and she almost gasped. In the brief moments they had touched before, there had been a strange spark, but it was nothing compared to the way this kiss lit her as if she were in the middle of the Fire Plains on Vulcan. At the same time it was not painful...in fact, it was quite a desirable experience. She could also feel the Commander’s astonishment and pleasure as well. He depended the kiss and she responded instinctively by bringing her hands up to run her fingers through his surprisingly soft hair. He answered by wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her to him.

It was utterly engulfing, the way their desires fed off of each other, accelerating to the point that T’Pol lost all rational thought. They kissed each other hungrily, demandingly, pressing their bodies against one another. T’Pol’s mind swirled with the heady images of mating, not all of which were hers. She wanted so desperately to give into those desires, to consummate her unbearable, irrational attraction to this human.

Consummate. When that word entered her mind, reality came crashing back into her: the brig, Koss, everything. T’Pol pulled back and Trip attempted to follow her, muttering, “Don’t stop.” Gently pushing him, she removed herself from his lap.

Lap? When did she move to his lap? And when did she start thinking of him as ‘Trip’?

His blue eyes came back into focus and his face was bathed with the regret that she was feeling now. Without speaking, she walked to the door, feeling his eyes following her across the small cell. Just before the door opened, she glanced back at him, trying to find the appropriate words for this uncomfortable moment.

“Don’t say it,” Trip warned her in a heavy voice before she could apologize. She nodded her head slightly, giving him one last lingering look before stepping across the threshold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Trip sat staring at the door long after she left. Human women were baffling, what the hell was he thinking falling for a Vulcan one—and his warden at that? He shook his head, but he couldn’t make sense of what had just happened. Kissing her had felt like licking a live conduit, a shock that left him energized, wanting more.

She was attracted to him, he had no doubt about that, but he didn’t know how it would play out… if it played out at all. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. If there ever was a question that he was an idiot, it had been confirmed now. Forget idiot, he chastised, you’re ready for the ‘compassionate’ execution of the insane!

There was one thing that was certain, though--he needed to escape. The repercussions for kissing his interrogator couldn’t be good, and he didn’t plan on sticking around to find out.

Just as Trip stood to begin his work once more, the door slid open to admit two very serious Vulcans.

“What can I do for you two fine fellows?” he asked with a steady voice that hid the anxiety he felt. Neither answered, but instead ushered him rather aggressively toward the door.

“Sonofabitch!” he muttered as he realized he was probably about to find out what those repercussions were.

Chapter Eleven – The Best Laid Plans…

The air was so humid, so laced with the ammonia of Trip’s sweat, that it was like breathing rancid water. He was enclosed in a small clear chamber the size of a long torpedo casing that forced him to stand, even as his legs attempted to give out from under him. He had lost track of all time. He couldn’t recall how long he had been locked in this glass coffin. In truth, he no longer cared. Trip could only gasp a lungful of the tepid air before the unbelievable pain washed over him once more,

“Why was your ship in Vulcan space?” came the deep, calm Vulcan voice over a speaker that was somewhere above his head. Through the mist on the glass, Trip could make out the Vulcan Commander, Koss. The tall, pointy-eared alien had asked the same question over and over and over. Trip wanted to scream… Actually he had, in fact already, several times.

“Go to hell,” he answered in a hoarse voice, as he had many times before.

Trip had experienced excruciating pain before. He had once thought that nothing could be more terrible than the agony he had suffered in the engineering explosion a year ago, but he now realized that there were no limits to the anguish his mind and body could endure. In some ways he was getting immune to it, adapting to it. He could no longer remember what it was like to be without such overwhelming agony. He couldn’t remember, that is, except in the all-too-brief respites between tortures.

This time it was fire, pure raging fire that seemed to eat at him from the outside in. When he was sure that he should be nothing more than a charred husk, the burning subsided so suddenly that the shock of it took his breath away. In his mind, a voice began to pray for death. It was a reasonable thought, logical even and because of that, he squelched it with an inner will to live. Oddly, it wasn’t thought of vengeance that inspired his survival instincts.

When Trip had first been dragged into the room and unceremoniously squeezed into the agony booth (as he had nick-named it), he had thought that T’Pol might have ordered it. The accusation in his mind, however, didn’t last long. The parting looking of sadness and disappointment in her eyes was burned into his memory and it somehow felt wrong that she would be the cause of his agonizing pain now… at least not because of the kiss.

“Your lack of cooperation is illogical,” Koss explained in his ever calm, ever grating voice. Always about cooperation and logic! Trip gritted his teeth.

“I’m a goddamn, irrational, red-blooded human!” he snapped back with the little strength he could muster. “You can crank this baby up to its highest setting, but the hell if you’re gonna get anything from me!”

Trip had planned on saying more, planned on telling Koss just where he could stick his logic, but another wash of pure agony engulfed him. It was sometime during the sensation of a thousand knives neatly slicing him to pieces that Trip lost consciousness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Captain Jonathan Archer stepped onto the bridge feeling more confident than he had been since his Chief Engineer was captured. Of course, he didn’t think he was out of the woods yet. Surely Reed would have some other plan up his sleeve, but he felt confident he had just won the first battle in this little war. Hoshi followed him off the lift, looking worried and distinctly trying to avert her eyes from the Chief of Security, who stood—too slowly—from the Captain’s chair to resume his post at tactical. A brief smile tugged at Archer’s lips. He should have thrown her in the brig, but he wanted to make sure that Reed completely damned himself before this attempted mutiny was over. He wanted to be able to make an example of the little Brit at the end, which meant no “accidents”—which, more importantly, meant that Starfleet would sanction Reed’s execution.

“Status report,” Archer demanded of Reed, staring down the smug officer while possessively draping his arm over the command chair.

“We’ll be on the Vulcans within four hours, sir,” Reed answered. Archer turned to Hoshi, who was checking her own readouts.

“We can hail them, if that’s what you want,” she replied without her usual attitude. Archer shook his head.

“No,” he said, “I want to surprise these bastards.”

Archer walked over to Reed’s console and stood a moment before the young man before speaking. Reed stared defiantly back at the Captain with his typical smug expression. It took every ounce of self-discipline for Archer not to strike out at the conniving son of a bitch right then.

“Can they detect us?” he asked instead.

Reed smirked. “I don’t think so,” he said, “but we’ll be in firing range by the time they know we’re on them.” Archer began to turn away, but stopped. He reached behind his back and pulled out the dagger with which Hoshi had tried to kill him.

“I found this in my quarters,” Archer explained as he stabbed the point into the console, “and I don’t know who it belongs to... but I have a suspicion.” He walked away from a sour-faced Reed staring at the knife sticking in his work station. Everyone else on the bridge quickly averted their eyes from the gauntlet that had just been thrown down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

T’Pol was concerned. It seemed that she often was lately, but this concern was different. After her pleasing and disturbing encounter with Commander Tucker, she had chosen to return to her quarters, as she always did, to bathe and meditate before reporting to the bridge for her regular duty.

When she had arrived at the small, yet efficient, command center of the V’Laran, Koss was not there. She had resisted the urge to question the officer in command of the Commander’s whereabouts. There was no urgent need in which she needed to see him, so to pose a query would be illogical. In truth, his absence should have had no affect on her.

A few uneventful hours later, she had become concerned. Since coming to the ship, Koss had seldom been far from T’Pol at any given time. She believed it to be because of his apparent affection for her. His absence, now, seemed out of character and she was troubled. T’Pol had caught herself pacing several times before the end of her shift.

Her replacement arrived on the bridge and she stood, undecided as to what she should do next. T’Pol contemplated whether she should search for Koss and admit her failure at the mind meld, omitting the subsequent activity that took place, of course. She also had the fleeting thought of returning to the brig to attempt another meld with the human. It was a thought she banished quickly, more so because it was what she irrationally wanted to do most—and it wasn’t because she was interested in seeking information about his presence in this sector of space. Her desires regarding the human were scandalous and absolutely could not be acted upon.

In the end, T’Pol chose to return to her cabin to meditate. If Koss did not seek her out before she was done, she would find him. As she walked onto the lift, she tried to suppress the concern that only seemed to deepen further.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Archer stood in the corridor with his hands in the air, mentally cursing himself. Phlox had called and said that he needed to see him. Archer had left the bridge, taking his two guards with him, heading to Sickbay. The two guards had barely gotten off the turbolift when they were fired upon. One managed to fire a single shot before he was killed. When the Captain realized that the lift doors were going to remain open, he finally stepped into the corridor with his hands raised.

Archer didn’t know if Phlox was in on this little ruse, but if he survived it, the Denobulan would have something to answer for.

The Captain kept his face impassive, hiding the anger and betrayal that stirred inside of him as one of Major Hayes’ men frisked him and relieved him of his weapons. Instead Archer stared down defiantly at the Major, attempting to show that he was still powerful.

“I thought you said I could trust you,” he replied through clenched teeth.

The Major shrugged, nonplussed. “I don’t recall ever using those words, Captain.”

“Let me guess,” Archer spat, “I’m about to have a little...accident?”

The only answer that the Major gave was another small shrug, before he moved behind Archer and prodded him forward with his phase pistol.

Chapter Twelve -- …And It Hits the Fan.

Varok stood at the small guard station in the brig, taking an inventory of the small weapons locker. Though it wasn’t a particularly stimulating task, it did pass the time during his fairly uneventful shift. This evening the humans seemed relatively quiet, not protesting their capture or yelling indecipherable babble. Varok wasn’t versed in the Terran language, but he did have an electronic translator. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), the device was often unable to translate the outbursts that came from behind the cell doors. That suited Varok just fine

Varok’s companion, S’rel, was running a routine diagnostic on the computer system in the brig. It shut down the automatic alarm system temporarily, but that was of little concern to Varok. If one of the humans managed the impossible and escaped from a cell, he was confident that the alien could be dispatched with little problem.

Yes, it would be another unremarkable shift, thought Varok.

And then, one of the cell doors opened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Trip stifled the urge to whoop once he managed to figure out how to break out. He scrambled, instead, to grab the heaviest wall panel of those strewn on the floor, and pressed his back to the wall beside the door; holding his breath, waiting.

It wasn’t long before an alien weapon entered the room, followed by the arm and body of the Vulcan that held it. Without hesitation, Trip slammed down the panel on the alien’s head with more force than he thought he could muster. Before the Vulcan hit the floor, Trip leapt after the weapon as it skidded across the small cell. With one fluid movement, he picked it up, shot the fallen guard and dashed for cover beside the door.

Again he waited. One second passed, another, then another, but the other guard didn’t come. Finally, Trip peeked around the threshold, only to jump back as phase fire nearly singed his ear.

Dammit!

Trip hastily ran through his options. He could use the other guard for a shield. No, too damn heavy! Think! His eyes scanned the room looking for anything that could be used as a distraction. Finally, he picked up another wall panel and heaved it out the door.

The Vulcan shot at it, giving Trip just the chance that he needed to take aim. As the guard crumpled to the floor, Trip said a silent ‘thank you’ to his daddy for all those hunting trips.

Now he just needed to get the rest of his crew and get the hell out of here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In another brig, on another ship, the Captain was pacing in the cramped, airless box they called a cell. He supposed he should be relieved that he hadn’t been pushed out of the nearest airlock after his capture by Hayes, but he wasn’t. Archer could probably guess why Reed wanted him alive.

As he wore a hole in the deck plating, the Captain thought about his options, his allies. There was Mayweather...he glanced at the cell next to him through the plexi-glass, but the young man wasn’t exactly in a position to help Archer at the moment. The ensign had been thrown into the brig very nearly the same time as himself. Phlox was an ally, Archer supposed, but he doubted that the doctor would make any moves to rescue him. Who was left? Hoshi? That was laughable—she had just tried to kill him. Kelby? Maybe, but then Archer wasn’t confident that his little chat had gone over well with the engineer. The Captain grudgingly admitted to himself that his situation was grim.

The speaker in the brig came to life with a distinctly British voice. “Attention crew. This is Lieutenant Commander Malcom Reed and I regret to announce that I have taken command of this ship.” Archer stopped pacing and ground his teeth so hard that it caused him pain.

Reed continued in a voice that had none of the disappointment he pretended. “I have just received orders from Starfleet that Captain Archer is being called to question for his actions in Vulcan space.”

“Bullshit!!” Archer yelled at the speaker. Reed's words were an utter fabrication; Starfleet had sent them out here in the first place.

“We are also ordered to continue in our rescue of Commander Tucker and his crewmen—“ So you can make sure he’s really dead, thought Archer distastefully “—before we leave Vulcan space. All of you are to carry on with your duties. Reed out.”

Archer was enraged. If he ever survived this, he would make sure Reed, the duplicitous little bastard, would pay dearly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Trip stood against the wall, waiting for Biggs to check around the next bend in the corridor before moving forward. He ignored his shaking in his hand that held the Vulcan pistol tightly. Fear wasn’t all that made him tremble; complete and utter fatigue threatened to overwhelm him. Adrenaline was all that kept him from collapsing. Biggs gave the “all clear” signal and the three humans turned the corner and ran along the wall. It was because of sheer luck that they had made it this far. Trip didn’t know why there didn’t seem to be an alarm, or why there weren’t heavily armed, pointy-eared aliens chasing after them, but he sure wasn’t going to complain about it

The three humans reached another bend and again Trip signaled for Biggs to scout ahead. Normally Trip would have taken the lead, but he didn’t think his reflexes were up to par at the moment. He had used most of his energy dragging the two Vulcan guards back into his cell and locking the door. He didn't know if they were dead or just stunned and he hadn’t taken the time to check; frankly, he didn’t care. Trip’s primary goal was to get the hell off this ship and find his way back to Enterprise alive.

It was just too bad he couldn’t take T’Pol with him. He shook his head, momentarily cursing himself for even thinking such a ludicrous thought. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? It was just a kiss, a little kiss...

Yeah, right. And Enterprise is just a garbage scow.

Biggs gave the “all clear” signal again, but Trip was distracted. Something wasn’t right. He had the distinct impression that he was going the wrong way. The feeling had been growing in him the closer they got to what the Vulcans used as a shuttlebay. It didn’t make sense, but the inkling was undeniable. He was going the wrong way, regardless of what rational thought told him, and Trip was beginning to suspect why he had this feeling.

“Damnit,” he muttered in a near whisper.

“Sir?” Hess asked with a worried expression on her face. Trip didn’t know how to answer her; he didn’t know what the hell he was about to do, himself. Biggs also looked at him with anxiousness. They were afraid of getting caught and he couldn’t blame them. Memory of the Vulcan agony booth floated to the surface of his mind once more. Trip shook his head, making a gut decision.

“You two,” he whispered, “get to the shuttlecraft. If I’m not there in ten minutes or the Vulcans show up, get the hell out of here.”

Biggs looked even more worried at this. “Sir, you aren’t coming with us?”

“Not yet,” Trip answered with a grimace, “I’ve got something that I need to do. Ten minutes.” Trip pointed the pistol at Biggs. “You leave before then without me, I will find a way off of this rusty bucket and you’ll wish the Vulcans still had you holed up in the brig when I do. Got it?”

Biggs and Hess nodded their understanding before they turned the corner of the corridor. Trip, on the other hand, went back the way he came, not at all sure he was making the right decision. What he did know for certain, though, was that the chances he would get himself killed were growing by the minute.

“She damn well better be worth it,” he said aloud to the empty corridor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the door slid open to her quarters, a hint of trepidation settled in T’Pol’s middle. She stepped into the dark room, noting that everything appeared to be in order. As she summoned the lights, she couldn’t stifle the growing worry that was tying her muscles into knots. Although everything appeared to be in order at first glance, something wasn’t quite right. Chiding herself for unfounded anxiety, she rubbed her neck with her slender fingers before reaching to unzip the back of her uniform. A movement in the mirror caught her and made her breath catch. Turning around, she found Koss sitting on her bed holding the PADD that contained the letter from her family. He was watching her without a sound.

“I see that you have been informed of the change regarding our wedding,” Koss said quietly. T’Pol felt the offense of the invasion of her privacy acutely, though the same niggling uneasiness haunted her. She walked to Koss to relieve him of her personal letter. He grabbed her hand firmly and she fought the urge to jerk it away.

“What is it, T’Pol?” he asked in a calm voice.

“To what are you referring?” she inquired in an equally calm voice, though she was growing more disturbed by his unwelcome presence with each passing minute.

“What is it that makes you resist our union?” clarified Koss. “I do not understand these illogical delays.”

“I merely wish to finish my commission aboard this ship,” she stated the partial truth. T’Pol hadn’t planned on speaking with Koss about their impending marriage, not yet. She forced herself to look into his eyes as if to put more strength into the truth of her answer. He released her hand and stood to his full height, towering over her petite frame while keeping eye contact with her. Finally he stepped away, clasping his hands behind his back as he appeared to study her meditation candles.

“Was the meld with the human successful?” he asked after the uncomfortable silence. The question, catching T’Pol off guard, brought the memory of the kiss to forefront of her mind. It was a question that she wished she could avoid answering.

“No,” she said in a quiet voice.

At this Koss turned to face her once more and gave her a searching look before speaking. “Is that so?”

Vulcans were not supposed to experience fear; but T’Pol was certain she was experiencing it now. There was something in way he spoke that justified her earlier concerns. Where had he been when he was missing from the bridge? What had he done? These questions swelled in her mind as Koss moved toward her. She resisted the urge to step back when he was nearly on her. He stared at her intently, icily, like he never had before.

Koss leaned down, placed his lips near her sensitive ear and whispered words that made her cold with fear:

“I can smell the human on you.”

Part 5 (Chapters 13) (Conclusion)

Return to Part 3 (Chapters 7-9)

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A whole mess of folks have made comments

Scorching!

fabulous post - absolutely worth waiting for - LOVE the last line

At last starting to see some of my favourites updated. First there was 'Clarity' by Ludjin and 'Enemy of the State' by quills and now this one. As Mr. Burns would say exceeeeeellent.

I've some what lost interest in some of the fanfics lately (too much TATV fixs -- just not interested anymore) Anyhow, nice to see this update, and what an update -- it certainly packs a punch. Love the back and forth from one ship (Enterprise), to the other (V’Laran). Great MU characters, thanks and looking forward to your continued story :-)

[Evil MU LOL] Ahh wonderful! [/Evil MU LOL],,,,,,, God I cant wait to see what happens when Trip gets to T'pol,,,, but I really wonder is what Koss is about to do,, could be anythin this is the MU,, but better becarfull this Trip probably wouldnt have one problem with beatin Koss to a Bloody pulp,,,,,,,,, Loved that first Meld/kiss scene,,, whoda thunk it that their could ever be sweet kind hearted scenes in the MU,,, but their have been quite a few poppin up,,,, Great work Star!

This is fantastic, Startraveller. I'm really impressed by your take on the MU. This universe is one you've created entirely on your own, and the characters are very vivid and three-dimensional. Can't wait for the next installment!

Excellent! Great update...can't wait for more...

Damn that Evil!Koss...

;)

Yea. Great chapter. It was worth the wait. I love your take on the MU. The characters are well written and very enjoyable to read. I like how each character has a significant contribution to the story. The cut-throat politics on Enterprise and the T/T'P story are both engaging. Great work! I can’t wait to see what happens next.

Excellent chapter, startraveller! Things are moving along briskly; hope Trip moves along briskly too - hopefully Koss can't do too much damage in ten minutes, but... one never knows these days. And I agree that you've definitely carved out your own MU with great characters and intriguing alliances. There's so much you can do with this story - can't wait to see the next installment.

Woo-hoo! I am SO glad you've continued with this story. I've gone back several times reading it, enjoying it more every time, waiting for the next installment. Love the post-meld scene. And Koss? Scary guy. Great development on all fronts. Can't wait to see the next one!

Oh, WOW! Great job, ST. I can't wait for more! I think I like your version of the MU even more than canon. :-)

aaaahhh,the thrill! just gotta love these mirror universe stories :-)

Oooh, I can't wait to see what happens next. Koss seems a mite annoyed! Verra nice kiss between our favorite duo!

Can't wait for the next chapter!

OMG, this is marvelously nasty... but making T'Pol gentle and NICE... and Trip conflicted about Sim...it's a stroke of genius. Too many MU fics depict them as self-centered and violent. I love your version. Hope Trip shows up and shows Koss a thing or two about messin' with his woman! - : )

Mwa ha ha ha! This is awesome! Snap! I can't wait for more, so, write fast! :)

Thanks everyone for your kind comments. I'm glad that people are still willing to read this even though I took such a long hiatus!

Part 5 is about a third of the way done and I'm working like mad on it! No 4 month hiatus this time! :)

Poor Koss. He's about to face the wrath of MU-OMT. Heh. Looking forward to the next one!

I'm all caught up and loving it! Koss is not a happy camper. Yikes!

I loved the aftermath of the meld. I wonder what the guards thought of all that steam coming out of the cell? ;)

Great story, startraveller, intriguing plot and excellent characterizations. I missed this story when it was first posted, so I got to read all four parts at once. It was a really satisfying read. Can't wait for the next installment!

This is "rub-your-hands-together" good and I can't wait for the next installment! I am so hoping we get to see MU Trip opening up a big old can of whoop-ass on Koss!!!

Thanks everyone! I'm one chapter away from having the final part finished! Thank you all for your patience. :-)