Enemy of the State-Ch 20

Enemy of the State

By Quills

Contact: quills@thequillpen.net
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star trek and I derive no financial gain from this story.
Codes: A, T/Tu, Ma, S, R, P angst, drama, romance, humor, action/adventure
Summary: The starship Enterprise is on a desperate mission to save Earth from the mysterious Xindi. While searching for the weapon the Xindi intend to use against Earth, Captain Archer and his crew are reunited with their friend from the future, Captain Soma, who brings news of an even more sinister plot by a Xindi faction involving the Vulcans, which threatens not only Earth, but the entire galaxy. Now it is up to Archer and his crew, with the help of Soma, to unravel the Xindi plot and prevent Earth and the galaxy from falling at the feet of their greatest threat…Vulcan.
***Special note: This story takes place after the season three episode, “Carpenter Street”, but before the episode “Harbinger”.

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Chapter 20

Archer, Soma and T’Pol headed down the walkway. Even at this late hour, the city was still alive with sights, sounds and smells of the local denizens and the off worlders who came to sample what they had to offer. They had made good time; managing not to get lost as they followed the directions Soma had been given. The walkway had led them to an even seedier part of the city, where deviances of every shape and manner could be found. Archer and his companions even discovered that for the right price, there were persons willing to make up new ones. He had thought he’d gotten used to the wild, sexual and violent nightlife that seemed to possess this version of Vulcan. He’d seen his share of cultural taboos practiced both on Earth and off world. Still, it never ceased to amaze him the lengths people would go to explore forbidden passions.

Forbidden passions, he thought. It disturbed him, and he questioned whether or not he had unintentionally indulged in his own hidden desire. The guilt he was feeling was real enough, as was the memory of the venomous look, which he had seen on Soma’s features. He wanted to talk to the man, explain that it was a misunderstanding. But the more he thought about what had happened, the less he believed that it was an innocent mistake. He began to question himself and his convictions. Had he taken advantage of the situation and used T’Pol to fulfill his own lustful desires? She was beautiful. He couldn’t deny that or the fact that he had often thought of her as someone who might be more than just a friend. And what about her? The response she had given him was…unexpected and more than a little frightening. She seemed to enjoy the kiss as much as he did, which only increased the guilt he was feeling.

A sudden shove forward, followed by a deep guttural bark, brought Archer out of his troubled thoughts. Looking up he saw a burley Naausican pushing his way through the crowd. No one was bothering to protest and he could see why. The Naausican was even larger than the one he had met aboard the prison ship a few years back, and that Naausican had intimidation down cold. His first thought was to teach him some manners, but decided against it. He would have to be careful. There were other dangers besides the Vulcans, and he didn’t need to do something foolish and attract unwanted attention. They had a mission to complete and guile was required. Looking up the walkway, he noticed Soma and T’Pol had gotten several meters ahead of him. Hurrying to catch up, he started into a sprint. After only a few meters, he suddenly felt a throbbing sensation in his temples. Slowing, he could feel his legs buckling, ready to give out beneath him. Trying to stop, he was pushed along by the throng of pedestrians. Moving in a daze, he pushed through the wall of people until reaching the inner edge of the walkway. Barely making it out of the crowd, he collapsed against a nearby stonewall in a deserted alleyway.

T’Pol followed Soma, making her way through the crowd. He was still within site, even in the heavy crowd, but he had gotten several meters ahead of her. She had tried to catch up to him, but each time he seemed to pick up his pace. It was as if he was deliberately trying to avoid her, and she was uncertain why. He had been quite cold to both she and Archer when he had come out of the merchant shop. A thought had occurred to her and an uncomfortable feeling threatened to break through her resolve. If he had seen what she suspected then it went far to explain his behavior. Was his anger at what he might have seen or at her? He had warned her about the trellium, and he may have been right. The feelings she experienced had nearly overwhelmed her. And what of Archer? He was her friend, but she felt the passion as his lips caressed hers. Looking behind her, she glanced to see Archer, and immediately noted her captain’s absence. Quickly, her eyes searched the crowd for him. Failing to locate him, she turned, calling to Soma.

“Jonathan!”

Soma stopped, turning to look at T’Pol. He could see the unmistakable look of concern, and wondered what the matter was when he noticed Archer’s conspicuous absence.

“Dammit!” he cursed, moving against the flow of the crowd.

Reaching T’Pol, he told her to back track along the walkway, keeping in site of one another. They had already been separated from Archer; they didn’t need to find themselves separated from each other. Navigating through the crowd, they scanned the area for their missing captain. In such a large crowd, he could have easily stumbled, fallen and been injured by the constant flow of moving people. If he were injured, that would complicate matters considerably. But first, they had to locate him. Soma pushed against the crowd. A number of people were none to happy to be pushed aside and Soma assumed their short worded responses were what passed for foul language.

”Jonathan!”

Hearing his mother’s voice, Soma turned in the direction he thought it had come from. The noise from the crowd made it difficult, but after scanning the flowing mass of bodies, he caught sight of his mother standing by a wall just off the walkway. Pushing through the crowd, Soma cut across the walkway until he reached her. Once he had gotten off the walkway, he could see that she had found Archer. The captain was crouched down, leaning against the alley wall of a merchant shop. Soma noticed that Archer’s breathing was erratic and he appeared to be disoriented. It didn’t take a doctor to figure out what had happened.

“Jon,” said T’Pol, putting her hand on Archer’s shoulder. Her touch had an almost instant steadying affect and he shook his head reassuringly.

“I’ll be all right,” he said weakly. “I just need to catch my breath.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” said Soma.

Archer looked up at him. He tried to stand, but he suddenly felt light headed. Slumping back down, he used the wall to brace himself.

“You’re suffering from anoxia,” stated Soma, kneeling next to Archer. “Vulcan’s thinner atmosphere is affecting you. The more you exert yourself, the worse your condition will become.”

“I can handle it,” said Archer. “I just have to be careful.”

Soma shook his head disapprovingly. “Careful will not protect you from the combination of a reduced atmosphere and the harsh Vulcan sun. Either one could prove fatal.”

“He’s right,” agreed T’Pol. “And with the heavy industrialization, the pollution levels are at almost toxic levels.”

Soma pulled out a small cylinder from his coat. Archer recognized it as one of Phlox’s hypo-sprays. Glanced back, Soma looked at the passing crowd. He didn’t wish to attract any more attention to them than was necessary. Some passing spectator might think they were using some illicit substance. Although he was more concerned that someone might try to join them than he was that they would notify the authorities. Holding the cylinder up, he pressed it against Archer’s neck.

“Tri-Ox compound,” said Soma, injecting the contents. “You’ll require regular injections; yet another reason you should not have come on this mission.”

Archer rubbed his neck where the hypo spray had entered. Looking up at Soma, he gave him a disapproving stare. He may have felt guilty about what he had done earlier, but he’d be damned if he’d take Soma’s condescending attitude.

“Well I did come and I knew the risks,” said Archer. “I don’t need you to remind me of them.”

Soma glared at Archer. He was surprised the man had the courage to look him in the face after what he had done with his mother; not that he didn’t hold her responsible as well. But with the trellium in her system, he could absolve her of a great deal of the blame. No, it was Archer whom he held responsible. He had trusted the man, respected him, and even come to love him like family; making Archer’s actions even more reprehensible in his eyes.

T’Pol watched them both, uncertain what to expect. Soma had taken on a very dire attitude, particularly towards Archer. She suspected why and wondered if Archer also suspected. But she was certain of one thing; it was beginning to complicate the mission. Deciding to resolve the matter, at least temporarily, she reminded them both of why they were here.

“We should proceed,” said T’Pol, forcefully. “The contact you spoke of…I believe you said he would not be at the location all night.”

Soma continued to stare at Archer. He wasn’t through, not by a long shot, but she was right. They were wasting time. Looked up at her, he nodded and stood up.

T’Pol looked down at Archer. ”Are you well enough to travel?”

“I’m fine,” said Archer. Pushing himself up with some effort. Looking at Soma, he gave him a hard stare, daring Soma to challenge him again. Soma returned the stare, but said nothing. He knew this wasn’t the time or place for it. He and Archer would settle the matter soon enough, but for now, they had a mission to complete, and the clock was ticking. Turning away, he moved to rejoin the crowd along the walkway. Looking back, he eyed T’Pol and Archer.

“Let’s get moving.”

Archer looked at T’Pol for a moment. He wanted to say something to her, but the expression on her face told him not to. She was either aware of, or at least suspected what was behind Soma’s unusual behavior. But like their companion, she knew where their priorities lay. Moving onto the walkway, they hurried to catch up to Soma, continuing to move along the walkway, looking for a sign or banner that might tell them that they had arrived at their destination. Unfortunately for Archer, most of the script was in Vulcan. It was left to T’Pol and Soma to determine their location. Archer gave a low curse, and vowed that when this mission was over he would talk to Hoshi about language lessons. Suddenly, T’Pol stopped and he had to do a quick maneuver around her to avoid running right into her. Soma, bringing up the rear, came around to Archer’s right. Looking over at them, she motioned to the dozen narrow stone steps leading up to a portal. Next to the entrance was a medium size low relief placard with Vulcan script on it.

“This would appear to be the place we are looking for,” said T’Pol pointing to the placard. “The name of the establishment is ‘the Delki’.”

“Doesn’t look like anyone is going in,” said Archer, noticing the lack of people on the staircase.

“Perhaps we have arrived too late,” added T’Pol.

Archer didn’t like the sound of that. They had come to far to meet with failure. Wasting no time, he headed for the stairs, “Lets find out.”

Following Archer, T’Pol and Soma made their way to the top. Once there, they saw that the stairs led to an alcove with two dark ornate double doors at the end. Crossing to the end of the alcove, they noticed two people exiting. Moving quickly, Archer grabbed the door; opening it, he stepped to one side offering a slight bow to T’Pol and Soma. T’Pol gave Archer a raised brow. Looking up, he smiled, giving T’Pol a wink. Following T’Pol, Soma glanced down at Archer.

“Try not to lose yourself in the part,” said Soma.

Archer smirked and rising from his bow, followed Soma and T’Pol into the establishment. The room they entered was low lit and adorned with several statues mounted in receded arches along the wall. Soma inspected them as he passed. They looked like primitive art, but he couldn’t certain. He had made a small study of proto-Surakian culture as a youth. His grandfather, Soval, had always encouraged him to learn more about Vulcan’s rich heritage. Turning his attention to the end of the room, he noticed a tall Vulcan male standing just outside the inner archway. Soma noted that he was wearing a long flowing scarlet robe and held what looked like a data padd in his hand.

“Good evening, sir,” said the man, as they approached. “I am, T’Sek, the host for the Delki club.”

“Good evening,” replied Soma, putting on his best elitist affectation. “We’d like a table in your fine establishment.”

“Your name, sir?”

He looked at T’Sek for a moment before answering. “Soma.”

T’Sek looked down at his data padd. Pressing several keys, he accessed the data files it contained. After a moment, he looked up at Soma.

“I’m sorry, sir. Your name is not among the members or their guests.”

Soma glanced at T’Pol and then back at T’Sek, “We are here to see a…friend,” said Soma. “His name is Setel.”

T’Sek’s eyes narrowed as he heard the name. The look did not escape Soma, but he remained silent. Setel was obviously well known. But whether that was to their advantage or not, remained to be seen.

“Is Setel expecting you?” he asked cautiously.

Soma gave the man a slight smile. “Nooooo…but I’m sure he’ll want to see us…regarding a business transaction.”

“Setel has many business associates,” replied T’Sek hesitantly.

“I understand,” said Soma smiling. The man had not made a move to send them away, so there was merely the matter of easing his mind. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out the small bag of latinum. Removing two silver strips, he waived them in front of T’Sek. “But I’m sure you could speak to Setel for us, while we wait …preferably in private.”

The man looked at Soma, and then at the silver. A slow grin began to form on his lips. Reaching up, he took the two strips from Soma’s hand.

“I would not want to turn away one of Setel’s associates,” he smiled. “Please, follow me.”

Soma glanced back at T’Pol and Archer. They were both looking at him with more than a little surprise. Smiling, he shook his head.

“Every man has his price.”

Following T’Sek, they descended a long staircase to a wide-open main hall. Large numbers of patrons were congregating in groups, while others were seated at open tables or semi-private booths ornately decorated with detailed engravings and what appeared to be precious or semi-precious stones and metals. Along the smooth ebony, stonewalls hanged what appeared to be tapestries and mosaics of Vulcan’s history; a very bloody history. Images of conquest and battle could be seen from one end of the hall to other. They could hear music being piped into the room, but the lyrics were either alien or unintelligible. Successfully navigating the floor, they followed Setel up a short flight of stairs to a terrace. Entering the terrace, they could see several recessed booths with heavy red curtains surrounding them. The man pointed to the end booth.

“This is one of our private booths, sir,” he smiled. “It affords a view of the main floor, and these curtains can be pulled together for privacy.”

Soma shook his head. “It’ll do.”

“Very good, sir” replied the man. “I’ll see that one of the servers brings you refreshments…while I see if Setel is available.”

T’Pol and Archer slid into the crescent shaped booth, while Soma finalized their business with the T’Sek. The booth was maroon colored, like the curtains, and was intricately detailed with carvings of the native wildlife of Vulcan. Waiting for the T’Sek to descend the steps, Soma looked down at the crowd of patrons of the Delki club. The more common folk appeared relegated to the main floor while those of greater standing or means were given preferential treatment. It was always the same. Turning his gaze back to the terrace, he noticed that it was largely unoccupied. A few people were standing at the far end, but none of the other booths were being used. Sliding into the booth, he pulled the curtains closed so their conversation could be a private one. Sitting opposite Archer and T’Pol, he pulled out the bag of pressed latinum, inspecting the contents.

Seven silver strips and three gold, he thought.

Archer eyed the strips in Soma’s hand. “How much did you give him?”

“No idea,” he replied, shaking his head, “but apparently it was enough.”

“You mentioned a name to him,” said T’Pol.

“Setel,” replied Soma, shaking his head, “he’s the man we need to find.”

Archer’s brow furrowed. “Who is he?”

“An information broker,” replied Soma. “He acquires what others need to know and supplies it to them…for a price.”

Archer shook his head. “Theft…the oldest profession.”

T’Pol’s brow went up and she looked at Archer in surprise. “I was under the impression that humans believed sexual prostitution was the oldest profession.”

Archer smiled and gave a shrug. “Somebody had to pay for it.”

“Well let’s hope he has what we need,” said Soma, “and that we can pay for it.” He looked over at Archer. He still hadn’t forgotten the earlier incident with his mother, but he valued the captain’s opinion and Archer was in command. “What do we do if we can’t meet his price?”

Archer considered it for moment. They had come all this way; to be stopped by one man’s greed would not be acceptable. There was too much at stake. He was about to respond, when the curtain parted. Looking up, they could see a slender female carrying a tray of red goblets and short, wide based decanter holding some kind of translucent amber liquid inside. The woman looked human. In truth, they couldn’t be sure if she was human or not, but she was certainly a slave. She bore the telltale red barcode on her neck. Not looking directly at them, she gave a slight bow and placed the tray on the table. Soma gave her a slight smile.

“Thank you,” he said.

The girl didn’t say anything, but the look she tried to hide was evident…fear. Quickly she closed the curtain and moved off. They could hear the sound of her footsteps as she hurried down the steps.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever quite had that reaction from a woman,” said Soma.

T’Pol shook her head. “We have no idea of what transpires among these people. But clearly there is a line drawn between those who hold the power and those that do not.”

“More of a reason for us to do whatever it takes,” said Archer.

Soma looked at T’Pol. She had always had misgivings when it came to brute force. As a Vulcan, she believed in Surak’s philosophy of peaceful dialogue. But her time spent in Vulcan Intelligence taught her that passive response was not often the wise or possible. Vulcan and Earth, and possibly many other worlds were in danger. Their objective was clear, as was the need to meet it. She was about to voice her agreement with the captain, when the booth’s curtain parted once again. Startled, she turned to look at a slender hawk faced man. His pointed ears and upswept brow made it evident he was Vulcan, but his demeanor reminded her of the large lobed pirates who had tried to rob Enterprise a few years earlier.

“I am Setel,” said the man, introducing himself. “I’m told you have business with me?”

“That depends,” said Soma.

Setel’s eyes narrowed on him. “On what?”

“On whether or not you can supply what we need,” he replied.

Setel grinned. “If it exists, I can supply it.”

Archer sat quietly as watched Soma converse with Setel. Watch was really all he could do for they were speaking in Vulcan. He saw Soma give him a congenial smile and motioned him to take a seat in their booth. He already despised the man, and was quite certain he didn’t trust him. Setel slid into the booth, sitting opposite T’Pol and next to himself. Setel gave him a cursory look, but once he saw the tattoo marking him as a slave, his interest disappeared. Turning his attention to T’Pol, he studied her intently.

“I feel I should know you,” he said to T’Pol.

T’Pol considered her response. She could tell that she was arousing him, and detected the feint hint of male Vulcan pheromones in the air. Making no move to discourage him, she allowed his eyes to roam over the curved lines of her revealing outfit. They required Setel’s cooperation. Logic suggested that she encourage his advances; at least for the moment.

“That is possible,” said T’Pol returning Setel’s gaze.

Setel smiled. He was clearly enjoying himself. Soma watched the Vulcan’s eyes roam over his mother like a hungry wolf. He could feel his already burning anger rising to the surface. He knew she could take care of herself; after all, she had taught him the Vulcan defensive arts. But she was still his mother, and his father had always taught him to defend her, both in virtue and in body.

“My associate and I are in need of your…services,” said Soma, trying to divert Setel’s attention to business. Turning over the goblets that the serving girl had brought them, he poured three glasses of the amber liquid, and pushed one towards Setel.

Setel reluctantly turned his attention to Soma. He gave him a brief smile, and then sat back, folding his arms. “And what is it you require.”

“Information.”

Setel stared intently at Soma. Soma’s cryptic response told him that whatever they wanted, it was highly illegal and in turn, highly profitable.

“You realize that the more…sensitive the information, the higher the price.”

Soma nodded. He knew exactly what kind of man he was dealing with.

“Good,” smiled Setel. “Now why don’t you tell me exactly what it is you need?”

“Access to the historical archives,” said Soma, flatly.

Setel straightened and his eyes widened. He looked as if Soma had just made some disparaging remark about his lineage.

“No one has access to archives,” said Setel, emphasizing the first two words again. “No one.”

“Did you not state that, ‘if it exists, I can supply it’?” said T’Pol.

Setel gave her a wounded look. “My dear lady, you know not what you ask of me.”

“On the contrary,” said T’Pol. “We know exactly what we are asking.”

“And it is quite impossible,” he replied, shaking his head.

Archer had remained silent during the conversation. As a slave, he was most likely not permitted to speak, and even if he was, he didn’t know the language. But he was certain the conversation wasn’t going well. He studied Setel’s body language, his facial expressions and gestures. He become so engrossed in studying Setel, that he didn’t realize he had attracted the man’s attention. He gave Archer a curious look, and the captain wasn’t certain what to make of it; until the back of the Vulcan’s hand connected with the side of his face. Archer reeled into the corner of the booth, slamming his shoulder into the back of the booth. T’Pol instantly moved to defend her captain, but stopped when she felt Soma’s hand grab her arm. She glanced at Soma, who gave signaled her not to act. Turning his attention to Setel, he watched and waited for what the man would do next.

“You dare to look at one of your betters!” he bellowed angrily.

Archer looked up at the man. A white-hot rage flashed in the captain’s eyes, but he made no move against him. He wanted to give Setel exactly what he had just given him, but that would most certainly end any chance of gaining information from him. He had to play the part he had chosen…at least for now. Averting his eyes he was certain Setel would take it as an act of submission. He bowed his head low, rubbing the shoulder that had slammed into the wall. Soma took Archer’s supplication as an opportunity to diffuse the situation.

“You’ll have to forgive him,” quipped Soma. “He’s been with us so long he forgets his place.”

Setel turned, glaring at Soma. “You would do well to remind him. A good beating would do that.”

Soma glanced at Archer. “Believe me…I’m tempted.”

Archer looked at Soma for a moment, their gaze locked. Archer had little difficulty divining what Soma was thinking. Nodding, he conceded the point only to settle the matter. No matter what, they needed Setel.

Soma poured Setel another drink, and was about to redirect the conversation back to the securing his services, when T’Pol touched his arm. Turning, he looked over at her and she motioned him to look past the narrow opening in the curtain. Peering through, he could see down the staircase and onto the open floor. The club patrons had suddenly stopped their orgiastic celebrations. Looking into the crowd, he saw what had interrupted the festivities, Alliance soldiers.

“Heads up,” he said, “the black knight and his entourage just arrived.”

Archer leaned across the table, to get a better look. Instantly he saw the soldiers, three…no…four of them; all covered in shining black armor. They were making their way across the crowded floor and unless he was mistaken, they were headed for the staircase. Soma looked over at Soma. He touched his hand to his sleeve, where his palm size disruptor was hidden. Soma looked at Archer for a moment, then nodded. They couldn’t be taken.

Until that moment, Setel had been oblivious to what was happening. Looking through the curtain opening, he could see the Alliance soldiers. They were at the foot of the stairs.

“Alliance soldiers!” he cursed. Normally they left clubs like The Delki alone; heavy tribute saw to that. So, what were they doing here? Then Setel looked at Soma.
“You!” he spat. “They’re here for the three of you, aren’t they?”

“I don’t think they’re here for the entertainment,” said Soma, sliding his hand into his jacket, positioning his disruptor so it was within easy reach.

“I’m getting out of here!” said Setel as he began to rise, making his way for the exit.

Instantly, Archer’s hand shot out, grabbing him by his collar and pulling him back into the booth. Setel reacted by swinging his arm back at Archer’s face. Ready this time, Archer ducked; letting Setel’s arm swing harmlessly over his head and causing the Vulcan to fall back into the booth. Coming back up, Archer brought his arm into a backward swing, connecting his elbow with Setel’s windpipe. He gasped and wheezed, clutching his throat where Archer’s elbow had connected.

“We’d just assume you didn’t,” said Archer, glaring at him.

Setel looked at him in shock and then to Soma, who was smiling. He could see the expression of disbelief on Setel’s face. Soma shrugging his shoulders.

“I’ll be sure to remind him of his place, when this is all over.”

Setel scowled at him, but Soma paid no attention. His immediate concern was the Alliance soldiers. He could hear their booted footfalls on the stone steps. They would be at the top of the stairs any moment. He glanced at T’Pol and then Archer. They were ready, disruptors concealed, but within easy reach. Soma leaned forward, whispering.

“Don’t make a move until I give the order.”

T’Pol looked across at Archer. He was her captain, but he was also at a disadvantage. He couldn’t speak Vulcan and Soma could. His nod told her what she needed to do: follow Soma’s lead.

The soldiers had ascended the stairs and were now on the terrace. They could hear the snap of their hard boots against the stone floor as they drew near. With no other booths occupied, they would be the only ones to attract the soldiers’ interest. The sudden appearance of a black-gloved hand on the curtain confirmed their fears. The curtain was violently pulled to one side, revealing four black-garbed soldiers surrounding the opening to the booth.

“Your identity cards citizens.”

Soma looked up at the man with a muted expression. They didn’t have any kind of identification. This was something they had considered before undertaking the mission. Ensign Sato and Lieutenant Reed had been unable to come up with anything that would stand up to scrutiny. Everyone carried identity cards that were tied directly into the planet’s central polis bureau. There was no way they could fabricate identities, so they had to avoid attracting attention. An effort that had proven futile in a police state where everyone, high and low was subject to on the spot inspection. He looked over at Archer, whose hand was reaching for the disruptor in his sleeve. The captain’s eyes narrowed and he gave a quick nod, fast and quick. They would have only a few seconds before the element of surprise was gone.

Reaching into his coat, Soma gripped his disruptor. Looking up at the soldier who had addressed him, he gave the man a warm smile. “Of course…I have right here.”

“M-My apologies!” stammered the soldier.

Soma froze, his hand still gripping the concealed disruptor. He glanced at Archer, who had also frozen with his hand ready to deliver a fatal blow. Looking back at the soldier, he immediately noticed that his attention was no longer on him. Following where the soldier held his gaze, he found to his surprise that it ended at T’Pol.

“We did not intend to intrude on your private affairs,” said the soldier, continuing in his apologetic tone.

Soma looked at T’Pol. He wanted to say something, but decided against it. His mother had been a member of Vulcan Intelligence. She would know what to do.

“You recognize me then?” said T’Pol in an offhand manner. She posed it less as a question and more as an expectation. Clearly, he had recognized her, and clearly she was someone of some importance.

”I-I…a mistake my lady,” replied the soldier, stepping back with a bow. “We sincerely apologize for the intrusion.”

She watched as the soldier quickly turned, motioning his men to follow. Quickly, they made their way down the steps and back into the crowd of patrons. When T’Pol was quite certain they were not returning, she looked at Archer and Soma.

“Fascinating,” she said.

“What the hell was that all about?” asked Archer.

“He recognized you,” said Soma

T’Pol turned towards him, arching her brow. “Indeed…and he was afraid.”

Soma turned to look at Setel. He had the same look of fear that the soldier did. Soma decided to push that fear a little further. Leaning close, he gave the man a hard stare, precipitating him to lean back, squirming away from Soma.

“Please, let me go. I won’t say anything. I swear it!”

Soma glanced at T’Pol, who gave him a slight nod.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked, with the same cavalier attitude she had used with the soldier.

“I…” Setel stammered, trying to catch his breath.

“Answer her!” barked Soma.

“T-the lady T’Pol,” he cried. “Daughter of Prefect Soval, Vice Chancery and adviser to the Council.”

Soma looked at T’Pol who managed to hide her surprise. Apparently in this time-line, she had a doppelganger.

“Rumors circulated about your death,” explained Setel, who only moments ago, was tight lipped, and now they couldn’t shut him up. “Something about a power struggle. I swear, I know-”

Soma grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, silencing his ramblings.

“We may have use of your…services,” said T’Pol.

Setel’s eyes widened; partly in fear, and partly in greed. “For the lady T’Pol, I would be honored to conduct business,” he said, in a slippery tongued manner. “Of course, her ladyship realizes the price is quite high…”

T’Pol’s eyes narrowed on Setel, and he straightened in his seat.

“But very reasonable,” he added, quickly. “Given the nature her ladyship tends to engage in. I’m sure we can both be of service to one another.”

***

Archer, T’Pol, Soma and Setel exited the club, proceeding down the busy walkway. Even at this late-hour travelers crowded the district. They used the crowded walkways to conceal their movements from any further patrols. In a crowd, they were less likely to be singled out for another inspection. T’Pol might be able to masquerade as her temporal opposite, but neither she nor Archer and Soma cared to test their luck. It was best if they just avoided any further run in with the authorities. But unknown to them, a watchful pair of eyes was observing their departure.

“Yes, Excellency,” said the Vulcan, speaking into a headset communicator, “I’m quite certain.” The black armored soldier was looking through a pair of night light field glasses. He could see T’Pol and the others as if Vulcan’s sun were high and bright overhead.

“There are two strangers with her and a criminal named Setel.”

The soldier continued watching them through his field glasses, but made no move to follow them.

“Yes, sir…I understand sir,” he replied into the microphone. “It will be done.”

Putting down the glasses, he turned to a second soldier standing behind him.

“We are to follow them and see where they go,” he barked

The younger man looked at his superior, unable to hide his apprehension. “Follow the lady T’Pol?”

The senior soldier shook his head, giving his junior an evil grin. “It is so ordered by her father…Prefect Soval.”

Chapter 21

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