Consequences-Part 35

Consequences

By Samantha Quinn

All disclaimers in part 1

Part 35

To Dry Up All the Rain. . .

Zealousgirl and Eratta: I know, no one likes Koss. Poor guy. I mean, it wasn’t his fault his parents were scummy. :) Actually, I realized mid way that this story could have been really, really fun with Koss in Soval’s place. But it was far too late, so I let him show up anyway.

And the rest of you-I take it ya don’t like Sopel much?

A/N: I’m not a doctor. The medical stuff comes from various websites and is semi-confirmed by my sister who is a nurse. Extreme possibilities, she says.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jonathan Archer was not pleased. Not pleased at all.

“What the hell is the matter with him?” Archer demanded of a mostly innocent Ambassador V’Lar. He would have been demanding information from Dr. Phlox, had Phlox not been in surgery. It was said surgery that upset Archer so greatly.

“Commander Tucker is currently undergoing surgery. The surgery was necessary because in your species a sudden rush of adrenaline can cause a spasm in an artery which can cause it to temporarily close,” Ambassador V’Lar replied.

“His artery closed?” Archer repeated in disbelief. “He was perfectly healthy-he works out every day and eats right with the exception of the occasional piece of pecan pie. How the hell did his artery close?”

“His condition was caused by his body’s reaction to the pon far,” V’Lar stated.

“I figured that much, Ambassador,” Archer spat. “What I want to know is how he contracted this illness in the first place.”

“Captain-" Ambassador V’Lar began before she was interrupted by Archer.

“And don’t give me any of that crap about Vulcan privacy or logic! A man is about to die because of your people. I think that deserves a little explanation, don’t you?”

“Captain Archer,” V’Lar began again, “Dr. Ventik and I have already told you everything we can-“

“Yes, you’ve told me everything you can, but not everything you know, isn’t that right?” Archer seethed.

V’Lar remained calm. She did not take offense, as she understood that Commander Tucker’s illness was taking its toll on the Captain. Clasping her hands behind her back, V’Lar studied the man in front of her. “As Ventik and I have explained, Captain, we do not know how the condition was contracted.”

“Then give me a conjecture,” Archer demanded.

Typically, V’Lar sympathized with humans. Indeed, she had lectured T’Pol on the importance of understanding them-and their emotions. Regardless of her empathy, she could not share the truth-or what she believed to be the truth-with him. Too much was at stake. While Vulcan-human relationships were important, they did not take precedence over the very structure of Vulcan society. Thus, she replied with a very uncharacteristic answer, “Vulcans do not conjecture, Captain.”

The phrase was unexpected from V’Lar, and the surprise showed visibly on Archer’s face. The line about what Vulcans do and do not do was more T’Pol’s style. It was her standard line of denying whatever emotion Archer suspected.

*Denial.*

The realization hit Archer almost immediately. “Bullshit,” he answered. He was no longer yelling. Instead, his voice was calm and his entire demeanor had changed. “Vulcans are quite PROUD of the fact that they’ve been in space when humans were still using horses as their most advanced form of transportation. You wouldn’t be as advanced in your space travel if you weren’t damn good scientists. And scientists do conjecture. It’s part of their job.”

V’Lar paused. “You are correct, of course, Captain. However, I have no logical explanation for what has occurred.”

“Forget LOGIC!” Archer snapped.

“I could no more forget logic than you could proceed with your questioning in a calm fashion,” V”Lar replied.

“CALM? You expect me to be calm when one of my crew-and a very dear friend-is dying?”

“No, Captain, I do not. That was my point.”

Archer took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. “You want to use logic? Then fine, we’ll use logic. Logically, I don’t think T’Pol was responsible. She was too surprised and upset to have been the reason. That leaves Soval. Soval was clearly sick and he and Trip had some type of interaction in his quarters. So, did Soval have pon far when he was aboard my ship?”

“I did not examine Ambassador Soval. It is impossible for me to say for certain,” she answered.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Archer responded. “How was the disease transmitted?”

“The usual means for sharing of pon far is sexual intercourse. Dr. Phlox has assured us that this did not take place between your officer and Ambassador Soval,” V’Lar countered.

Archer sighed. It was clear she wasn’t going to give in. “Fine. Tell me how they intend to treat it on Vulcan. How is that going to be any more effective than what we tried here, with T’Lal?”

“I apologize, Captain, but I cannot provide the answers you seek. Perhaps you should have inquired from Captain Skon,” V’Lar answered.

It was fortunate for both Archer and T’Lal that they were interrupted at that point. When Phlox’s voice came over the intercom, the doctor sounded very subdued. Archer answered accordingly. “Go ahead, Doctor,” Archer greeted. His anger was forgotten-only to be replaced by immense anxiety for his friend.

“Commander Tucker is out of surgery. We were able to prevent any sizeable damage. His condition is rapidly decreasing as we speak, however.”

“Will he make it to Vulcan?” Archer demanded.

“I don’t know,” Phlox replied.

Archer resisted the urge to yell at the doctor, to demand to know what type of doctor he was if he didn’t know whether his patient would live or die. Instead, he asked only, “Can I see him?”

Phlox nodded his agreement, and Archer entered sickbay to take his vigil.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Malcolm Reed took a deep breath, concentrated his aggression on the bag in front of him, and let go.

*One.*

That was for Trip, for being sick.

*Two.*

That was for Vulcan, for being an additional two hours away.

*Three.*

That was for T’Pol, for leaving. If she had been here, everyone would have felt a little bit more at ease.

*Four.*

That was for whomever was responsible for transmitting this Vulcan illness in the first place.

*Five.*

That was for his dearly departed great uncle, who had been the first to have aqua phobia.

*Six.*

That was for his uncle, for overcoming his fears.

*Seven.*

That was for himself, for being unable to overcome his own fears.

*Eight.*

That was for Shuttlepod One, because really, that’s where it all began.

*Nine.*

That was for Trip Tucker, who insisted on weaseling his way past the boundaries of propriety that Malcolm had established.

*Ten. Eleven. Twelve.*

That was for his father, for being right about fraternization.

“Your timing is considerably off, Lieutenant,” said an unfamiliar voice. Malcolm turned abruptly and noticed a Vulcan female he was unfamiliar with standing in the doorway of the gym.

“I wasn’t aware I was being watched,” Malcolm replied. “If I had, perhaps I would been paying closer attention to my timing.” If he were a tad snottier today than he would have been previously, it was due entirely to the condition of the man lying in sickbay.

T’Lal gave him the ever reliable eyebrow raise. “It is a public area, is it not?”

“Yes,” Malcolm admitted.

“Then why did you not take into account the possibility that others could be observing your activities?” T’Lal questioned.

Malcolm sighed in frustration. “I just had other things on my mind. I’ll work on my timing.” With that, he turned back to bag in front of him and again released his dissatisfaction.

*Thirteen.*

That was for Trip, for being in surgery.

*Fourteen.*

That was for Ambassador Soval, who clearly hadn’t told them the whole truth.

*Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen.*

That was for Doctor Phlox and Captain Archer, who clearly were not telling the entire truth about Trip’s condition.

*Eighteen.*

That was for himself, for messing up his timing yet again.

Malcolm expected T’Lal would move to another portion of the gym but she did not. Instead, she remained where she stood, watching him thoughtfully. It was too much for Malcolm to bear. He stopped taking his frustrations out on the gym bag and turned around again to look at T’Lal.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Malcolm asked in annoyance.

“I am curious as to why you are demonstrating aggression towards the object,” T’Lal questioned.

“Well, punching the bag is a bit better than punching another person, isn’t it?” Malcolm rejoined.

Both of T’Lal’s eyebrows raised at that. “Why do you desire to cause bodily harm to another person?”

Again Malcolm sighed. “I don’t-not really. It’s just. . . a good friend of mine is ill, and I’m afraid I was taking out my concerns on the bag.” Malcolm gave a weak smile.

“Is he a fellow crewman?” T’Lal inquired.

“Yes,” Malcolm replied. “Commander Tucker. He’s a bit too weak to take it out on him, you see.”

The small joke was completely lost upon the Vulcan. “It would not be appropriate to provoke an injured being,” she said solemnly.

“No,” Malcolm said with resignation, “It would not.”

“I have often heard that humans were violent creatures,” T’Lal remarked. “I suspect now that it is true.”

*If that’s your conclusion now, I’ll certainly not let you know just how much I enjoyed this exercise,* Malcolm thought perversely. “From what T’Pol has shown me of your martial arts, I’d say Vulcans are pretty capable of being violent themselves.”

T’Lal looked far more interested in that statement than any proper Vulcan should. “Indeed?” she questioned. “Are you proclaiming proficiency in kareel-ifla or ponn-ifla?”

“I believe T’Pol called it ke-tar-ya,” Malcolm responded.

“Indeed?” T’Lal repeated. “The ke-tar-ya is one of our oldest-and conversely, most violent, forms of self defense. I am curious as to why T’Pol thought it appropriate to share it with you.”

“I am the ship’s armory officer,” Malcolm explained. “She likely thought it would be useful in my job of defending the ship.”

“I see. In that she was wise,” T’Lal conceded. “Even Vulcan ships have tactical officers.”

“I imagine they’re quite efficient,” Malcolm replied.

“They are,” T’Lal agreed. “But they are not so efficient as to be able to practice ke-tar-ya without a partner.”

“Nor am I,” he admitted.

“I would be prepared to assist you,” T’Lal offered. At Malcolm’s look of surprise, she added, “It would relieve your tensions with far greater ease than hitting an immovable object, I believe.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Malcolm agreed. “But you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t understand the reason for your concern.”

T’Lal regarded him steadily before answering. “I have met your friend.”

“Of course. You must have brought the treatment from the Vulcan ship,” Malcolm figured.

T’Lal’s left eyebrow raised as she responded. “Yes. . . I was responsible for the treatment.” She paused before adding, more quietly, “It was ineffective.”

To Malcolm, a man who frequently suppressed his own emotions but certainly still held them, it sounded strangely like she was blaming herself. “Well, that wasn’t your fault,” he offered.

“No, I suspect it was not. Regardless, as Surak would say, ‘the spear in the other's heart is the spear in your own: you are he.’ I grieve with thee, Lieutenant. Especially knowing that a Vulcan illness is to blame.”

“Thank you,” Malcolm replied. “Now, about that practicing. . . "

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Two hours later, Archer was still at Trip’s side when he was hailed by Lieutenant Hess. In Trip’s absence, the Lieutenant had taken not only his place in engineering, but his place on the bridge as well.

“We are currently in orbit,” Hess informed the Captain. “Vulcan Space Central has welcomed us. We are clear to send down a shuttle whenever we’re ready. Captain Skon has sent us the co-ordinates.”

“Very well, Lieutenant. Contact Ambassador V’Lar, Sub-Commander T’Lal, Lt. Reed, and Ensigns Mayweather and Sato and tell them to meet me in the shuttle bay. Archer out.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Phlox was not pleased about having to remove Commander Tucker from sickbay so soon after surgery. The doctor understood, however, that the expedition was in all probability Trip’s last chance. Thus, he complained minimally. His patient traveled on a stretcher in the first of two shuttle pods their journey necessitated. Ambassador V’Lar traveled in Shuttlepod One alongside Trip, Phlox and Captain Archer. Following closely behind were Lieutenant Reed, Ensign Sato, Ensign Mayweather, and Sub-Commander T’Lal in Shuttlepod Two.

Archer expected the co-ordinates to take them to the Vulcan High Command center, or Security Head Quarters. He was unquestionably surprised when instead of a tall, imposing building, their shuttles landed beside a medium sized, informal structure that was, undeniably, a personal home.

Turning to Ambassador V’Lar, he questioned, “Do you recognize where we are?”

“This is the home of Captain Skon, where no doubt T’Pol is staying.”

“Is the nearest hospital very far?” Archer asked.

V’Lar raised an eyebrow in response. “If you are referring to Commander Tucker’s condition, I doubt very highly that he shall be treated at a hospital. I believe he shall be treated at the residence of Skon.”

Archer started to speak again, but Phlox interrupted him. “Perhaps it would be best, Captain, if we were to exit the shuttle and find out. Preferably quickly.” The unspoken urgency in Phlox’s message incited Archer to take his advice.

“I’d forgotten how hot it is on Vulcan,” Archer grumbled as he struggled with the stretcher.

“I’ve never been here, but it does remind me uncomfortably of a particular summer holiday in the Sahara,” Malcolm remarked, coming over to assist Archer. Although Archer’s ego protested, his body gave in and relished the armory officer’s assistance.

Noticing the struggle Archer was having, T’Lal moved to assist Malcolm as well. “I was unaware that humans took expeditions to deserts.” As Archer, T’Lal, and Malcolm carried the stretcher up stone path, the remaining members of their party lagged slightly behind them, no doubt allowing their bodies to adjust to the different atmosphere of the planet as well.

“We don’t, particularly,” Malcolm admitted.

“Especially not in the summer,” Archer added.

“However, my father believed I was in need of additional character building,” Malcolm supplied. “His result was a month long obstacle course in the Sahara desert.”

“Hmm. Sounds like you should have been on Zobral’s planet** instead of Trip and me,” Archer puffed good naturedly, speaking of the last desert expedition he and his chief engineer had endured.
“I believe I did visit that planet, Sir,” Malcolm retorted with a slight smirk.

“Saved our asses, I believe,” Archer agreed with a grim smile.

T’Lal looked impressed. “You are an ever increasingly efficient armory officer, Lieutenant Reed,” she mused.

“Yes, he is. We’re very proud of him,” Hoshi put in. The tone was definitely possessive, Archer decided. Briefly, he wondered if he was the only one on his ship that faced lonely nights.

The figure of Captain Skon emerged from the stone building. After the traditional greeting, Skon glanced down at Commander Tucker’s figure on the stretcher. “T’Pol will be immensely pleased with Commander Tucker’s presence.”

“As are we,” came a voice behind Archer. The Captain was certain he saw the briefest emotion of dread flicker across Skon’s face. It was brief, but it was there. It was followed by something that closely resembled the look that came over T’Pol when she was angry. Anxiously, Archer turned his head to get a glance at the speaker. He was the Vulcan that had come aboard his ship along with Skon, T’Pau, and V’Lar. He was accompanied by a second Vulcan that Archer definitely didn’t recognize. Introductions didn’t take long, however.

Skon straightened. “Welcome to my home, Sumarek. Greetings to you as well, Koss.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

To Be Continued. . .
**-This is in reference to the planet in Desert Crossing. Did they ever give it a name?

A/N: Yeah, it’s a chatty chapter. ;) And while it may appear that nothing important happened, I promise it’s all essential to the next two chappys (the last ones!!) Think of it as my version of the TNG ep, “Family.” Not a lot of action, but necessary character “stuff.”
Please review.

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Three people have made comments

Rats! What a terrible place to leave it, with Koss there too, I wasn't expecting that! Hurry up T'Pol, poor Trip can't hang on much longer without you. This is really cranking up to a very taut pitch, I have everything crossed except my eyes! Excellent story, waiting with baited breath for the next part - Ali D :~)

Too many cliffhangers, too many cliffhangers...

Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way, but my imagination is starting to go crazy.

ARGH! Cliffhangers! What will happen next? Oh, the suspense! The suspense!

Please post more soon!

Sincerely,
She who is shaking with the suspense of the story