There Are No Shadows In the Dark - Part 2

There Are No Shadows In the Dark

By: vero3110

Rating: G
Disclaimer: See Part I

Part II

X.-

Trip opened his eyes to the sight of dark brown hair on the pillow near his head. It was a sight that had always made him smile, and this morning wasn’t any different from the ones before.

Yesterday evening had been surreal. T’Pol had meditated most of the time while he napped on her bed, surrounded by a faint smell that he recognized as hers – mildly floral, like passing by jasmine, and at the same time an earthy essence like deep woods. Whenever he opened his eyes he was able to see her, sitting in front of her candle. At first he thought he would disturb her, but apparently she didn’t even notice his presence. Or maybe she did. He had this hunch that she kind of enjoyed having him there, but he wasn’t completely sure. Trip breathed deeply and got a little closer, his left hand sliding under her camisole so he had access to her belly. She always liked it when he did that. She’d never voiced it, but he knew. His fingers tips ran slowly around her navel. Moving up to her rib cage, he traced her ribs with his thumb while he embraced her, waking her up. He felt the change in her breathing rhythm while her fingers intertwined with his.

“Soval’s coming today,” he spoke into her neck. She nodded. “We’d better get up,” Trip continued. There was no answer or movement from her, so he kissed her neck softly and waited for her.

Trip closed his eyes while he remembered yesterday evening’s events. After her meditation was over they’d gone to the Mess Hall to have dinner together, but they’d run into Phlox, who’d updated them on his findings regarding the Terra Prime files he had reviewed. This information had had an unsettling effect on both of them. Who had helped Paxton with the medical procedures that had allowed him to create Elizabeth? It was clear now that they’d had alien aid, but who did it and why?

When they’d left, on their way back to each of their quarters, Trip had decided not to leave T’Pol, so he’d followed her. They were both tired, even him after napping for most of the afternoon, so the logical action was to get some sleep, as she’d told him so calmly.

She played me like a master, he thought, smiling. He had wanted to stay with her so badly last night. She’d probably known it. So she’d made it clear that it was only logical for them to stay that way - together.

T’Pol turning and lying on her back next to him made him return to the present. “Mornin’,” he said.

She acknowledged him with a slight nod. Her eyes were clear, the greenish shadows under them gone. She studied his face for some time while Trip caressed her ribs again – palm wide open – moving up to touch the underside of her breast, his fingers tracing the soft rounded skin lovingly. Her face showed nothing. She was impassively looking at him, but her breathing gave her away. It was slightly faster than it should have been. T’Pol surprised him when she moved closer and kissed him, sucking at his upper lip softly but non-stop for a full minute.

“Good morning,” she told him, moving her head back to her pillow. Trip rolled on top of her. Her legs parted, cradling his hips. He kissed her back with deep loving kisses, his fingertips touching her face, hers lightly traveling up his back. Before he realized it, he’d started a slow, subtle rhythm with his hips against hers.

She remembered the early morning wake up kisses, as Trip called them, that they both had enjoyed before she invited him to visit her home. She had missed them every morning since then, but she’d managed to control her nostalgia as a Vulcan should. After some months, she’d sublimated her need so completely that she didn’t notice she was still missing them – she was a creature of habit after all – until he’d left her. And then everything she’d felt for him had re-surfaced, with the accompanying pain, sorrow and regret. Her embrace tightened. Her arms and legs closed around Trip, making him stop his kisses and look her in the eye. He felt her calves press against the back of his thighs and her arms surround his back, her hands grabbing his sides.

It wasn’t difficult for Trip to interpret her thoughts, or parts of them. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, still looking at her.

“Good,” was all she managed to say before her voice cracked a little.

His eyes warmed a bit more, if that were still possible, and he kissed her cheek up to her ear, touching her face with his. His deep low voice reverberated through her ear, making her shiver. She heard him say her name and she pressed her cheek against his. Trip kissed his way back to her mouth, where he sucked and tugged at her lower lip until the tip of his tongue invited hers to return the attention. Which she did, making him smile widely.

The com system sounding caught both of them by surprise.

“Bridge to Commander T’Pol.”

Trip pressed the button to answer and kept quiet.

“Go ahead, bridge.” Her voice sounded almost normal, just a little off.

“Ambassador Soval will be arriving in about 90 minutes and he has requested a meeting with the senior staff as soon as he arrives, ma’am. The captain ordered it to be held at the Command Centre.”

“Understood,” T’Pol said.

“Bridge out.”

They looked at each other, not moving. “What time is it?” she asked.

Trip moved up to peek at her console. 0743, it showed. “If we get up now we’ll still be able to get some breakfast,” he told her while moving back to cover her. T’Pol’s hands went to his face so she could touch him softly with the backside of her fingers. “Or we could stay right here and skip it,” he said, while turning and kissing one of her hands.

“We should get up. I believe the captain will want to meet with us before the Ambassador arrives,” she said in a gentle voice. “And you owe me an update on the results of your work with Ensign Mayweather,” T’Pol continued.

“I can tell you here,” he suggested with an innocent look which gained him a raised eyebrow. He chuckled, and disentangled himself, moving to the side next to the bulkhead and leaving her free to leave, which she did, walking towards her bathroom.

________

XI.-

Malcolm fingered his pad to access the plan for crew background checks and give it to the captain, but he never got to do that. The console chirped and showed Starfleet’s Intelligence logo surrounded by a bright red thin line, announcing a communication from the investigation team on Mars. Secure channel, thought Malcolm, relieved.

The captain accepted the incoming call and the update meeting started. Rossi’s face appeared on the screen and he greeted Archer and Reed, moving back so Hoshi could be seen, too. They both sat at a small elliptical, metallic table. It seemed that they were at the lab where Hoshi was working on the ciphering algorithms. In front of each of them rested a couple of pads. Rossi looked as if he had worked non-stop through the night, his day old stubble and the dark shadows under his eyes clearly visible from Enterprise. Hoshi, on the other hand, was only given away by the strands of hair that carelessly hung at the side of her face and the wrinkles on her uniform. She always looked fresh and shiny in the morning – a typical early bird. Must be Miss Crankiness this morning, considering how much she hates night shifts, Malcolm thought, smiling to himself.

“We’re still not done analyzing all the information that’s coming out from the de-encrypted files, but we have some new data I think you’ll be interested in,” Rossi told them.

Late the previous evening, Hoshi had been able to discover how to generate the keys that decrypted business files and medical logs. She discovered that the icons that every Terra Primer was identified by were codes, much like finger prints that translated into numbers. These codes, as well as retinal scans from each individual and sometimes pairs of them, were used to create encryption keys used to cipher logs – personal, medical and business alike. The first logs decrypted were Paxton’s. They were a very unsettling and distasteful reading experience, in her opinion, but for Rossi they would provide research material for months. He hoped that the information would help him disarticulate the Terra Prime organization that survived.

“Have you read Ensign Mayweather’s and Doctor Phlox’s reports?” Rossi continued. Both Archer and Reed nodded.

“Good” he murmured.

Hoshi looked at the commander surprised, When did he have time to do that? she thought. She had been observing Rossi while they browsed through Paxton’s files. She noticed that the man could focus on something almost to the point where he wasn’t aware of his surroundings. Quite unnerving, if you ask me, she was musing to herself when his voice interrupted her.

“I can confirm that they lost – recently – all of the genetic material they stole from Enterprise. Susan Khouri mishandled it, so it ended up being useless. We don’t know if it was intentional or not. Neither did Terra Prime. According to Paxton’s log the remains were destroyed after the incident, which is consistent with their Doctor’s log. We haven’t found how they got the material yet, though.”

“I bet they didn’t record that kind of information,” Archer said.

“Well, sir. I wouldn’t bet on that. Paxton believed he’d become a great leader. He recorded almost everything so history would portray him correctly. I’m certain that he saved that kind of information. How he defeated Starfleet – it is here. We just have to be patient,” Rossi said almost angrily.

“You OK, Commander?” asked Archer. Rossi’s emotionalism took him by surprise. It reminded him of Trip.

“I’m fine, Captain. Just tired and a little on edge,” Rossi said. He calmed visibly, but his mind was still reeling. How could Terra Prime and Paxton go this far? Why hadn’t Starfleet Intel, himself included, realized the threat they had become before now? He thought about the baby girl that had died because of Paxton’s doings and he remembered his babies - his sons – cuddling and laughing with him and his blood boiled.

“There’s a freighter that has been a regular visitor to the mining colony for the last 3 years. The ship is the Chimera, and before that was called the Magellan. I already know you’ve never run into it,” he pointed at Hoshi as explanation and then he continued.

“We think it’s the third party that Paxton used to access alien technology,” Rossi continued, while reaching over to one of the pads and browsing through it.

“What’s the cause of the name modification?” Malcolm asked.

“It was transferred from a Boomer family to a European citizen, Klaus Bern, six months before its first visit to Orpheus. The new owner changed its name,” said Hoshi while tucking her rebellious hair behind her ear.

“Aquí está,” Rossi muttered and looked up. Hoshi was looking at him with a pensive look. She had been picking up his slips into Spanish since they met, but still hadn’t been able to identify where he was from.

“Sorry” he said, looking at the console. Both Archer and Reed moved their hands, gesturing that it was all right.

So the commander continued. “The information we have on Mr. Bern states that he acquired the Magellan through a well known broker from the Helvetic Confederation, ordered and paid for a complete refit for the ship at a space port on Mars, appointed himself as captain of the Chimera, and has been on board the ship since then.” He finished reading and looked at Archer and Reed.

Rossi didn’t give them time to ask anything. “And here comes the curious thing. Whenever he visited the Moon, he never met Paxton, well, not officially. It’s not recorded on any log. He always met with one of his men, most of the time with Greaves. We found entries that state that the Chimera transported almost anything, including alien medical supplies, sophisticated medical equipment from a Coridan market about two years ago, and several times, from Alpha Eridani II, Rigellian mechanical pieces. Apparently Paxton is a very thorough manager,” Rossi said while leaving his pad on the small table again.

“Any idea where the Chimera is now?” Archer’s voice sounded clearly from the speakers embedded in the console at the lab where Hoshi and Rossi had been preparing the update for the last hour and a half. Archer’s mind worked feverishly, trying to find a good reason that would justify Enterprise going out to search for the Chimera. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but he couldn’t let the opportunity pass. The Rigellian origin of the mechanical pieces reminded him of Mayweather’s theory. Travis might be right, he thought.

“Not really”, he heard Rossi answer. “Its last visit to a human outpost was to Jupiter Station about 3 weeks ago, allegedly to deliver a mineral cargo from Orpheus, its next destination Utopia Colony. But its arrival is not recorded on any space port on Mars. We’re already checking if Starfleet has any data regarding course changes or communications with the Chimera since it left Jupiter station.”

There was something that had bothered Malcolm about the information about the Chimera’s captain since he’d heard it, but he hadn’t had an opportunity to ask until now. “Wasn’t Bern the capital city of Switzerland?” he said, winning strange looks from the captain and Hoshi but not from Rossi, who turned back to the pad he had been reading from.

Hoshi picked up the connection and fingered her pad as well. “Anything on this guy prior the transfer of the ship?” she heard Rossi ask her.

“No, and I don’t remember reading anything at all about Bern before he purchased the Magellan,” she said, looking at him. “I’ll ask Lieutenant Carras to speed up the search on his background,” she said, standing up. Rossi nodded and she walked closer to the com system.

“We have a possible alias for the captain, I guess,” Archer said to Reed, who nodded.

“Do we have any information on the crew of the Chimera? Those who left the ship during the last four years? Or those who replaced them? I don’t think they would bother hiding their identities,” Archer offered as a suggestion. Hoshi heard him clearly and passed the idea to Carras right away.

Rossi scrubbed his eyes and forehead before looking at the console. “We didn’t think of that,” he said apologetically.

“Never mind, it isn’t that obvious. Who remembers capital names not used for the last 100 years?” Archer said looking pointedly at Malcolm who shrugged. “How long did you sleep last night?” Archer asked Rossi.

“I didn’t. Actually, no one on the team did. We spent the whole night reading whatever was decrypted,” he replied tiredly while looking at the captain and Reed.

“Well, sounds like it was a pretty successful reading session, if you ask me,” said Archer, smiling. “Did you find anything on that genetic procedure Phlox mentioned in his report?”

Rossi shook his head. “No, but we accessed part of Paxton’s medical logs. Commander T’Pol was right on with her suspicions. He had been using Rigellian gene therapy to treat himself for Taggart Syndrome. We filed an inquiry with the Rigellian Medical Authorities regarding the Khoi procedure last night, no response yet.”

“Is there anything we can do to help you?” Archer asked.

“No, Captain. But there’s something else. The team decoded some of the engineering logs, and the valve design they used originated on Vulcan. The Vulcans have already confirmed that it’s theirs, used in commercial ships for the last 50 years. Not a word on the nacelle design though,” Rossi told him with a telling look.

He continued while, Archer processed this piece of information. Was it possible that my father’s team used Vulcan technology? He was musing, when Rossi’s voice floated from the console.
When he heard Rossi, it was as if the Commander had been reading his mind, or perhaps he had become too predictable. It did surprise him.

“Maybe our engineers discovered the same principles as the Vulcans did and ended with a similar design,” he volunteered.

“Maybe” said Archer, unconvinced.

“When do you expect to have enough information for a new update?” Malcolm asked Rossi.

“Not before tomorrow I suppose. Anyway, there’s not much to do down here now that the encryption has been broken. Our team will be leaving for San Francisco this evening. The investigation will continue from Starfleet Command. The processing capacity available there will speed up the log decoding.” Rossi’s voice sounded tired.

“So, I can expect you to be back here this evening, then?” The captain asked Hoshi.

“Yes, sir,” she said.

“Is there anyway you’ll authorize a transfer for Ensign Sato, Captain?” Rossi asked Archer with an amused smile. “I’ve been trying to convince this lady about the benefits of Starfleet Intelligence, with no luck,” he continued. Archer gave Hoshi a questioning look. She shook her head, letting him know she had no intention of leaving Enterprise. Malcolm looked relieved.

“Not a chance, Commander.” Archer’s voice was clear and firm. “Will you be heading the investigation from San Francisco?” the captain continued.

“No, I’ll focus on the sociological aspects, my area of expertise. Commodore McCallum will be leading the investigation as a whole,” Rossi answered, relaxing a bit.

“Enterprise will be leaving orbit as soon as our people get back on board. If you’re interested, we can give you a ride,” Archer offered to Rossi. Even though Enterprise was far more comfortable and faster than whatever transport Starfleet had scheduled for Rossi, Captain Archer wasn’t acting unselfishly. He intended to have a long and direct talk with the Commander. If he knows or suspects anything about Terra Primers infiltrating Starfleet, I intend to find out about it, Jon thought.

“Does the ride include meals, sir? Ration packs are not my thing, after all,” Rossi answered. He had a friendly smile on his face, but his thought processes concluded that Archer, and Reed as well, would be interrogating him during his stay on Enterprise if he accepted the offer. He could decline. At least three excuses ran through his head. Instead, he decided to board Enterprise, deciding that maybe he could gather some information as well.

Archer and Reed laughed at the Commander’s words. “What about dinner with the senior staff? You haven’t met our Chief Engineer or Commander T’Pol,” Archer suggested.

Rossi nodded in agreement. “I’ll see you later then. Sir, Lieutenant,” he said in farewell, and the communication ended.

Both Malcolm and Archer watched the console until the communication ended and Enterprise’s data display appeared again. The captain was still trying to decide how could he convince Starfleet to let them go after the Chimera while Malcolm re-filled his coffee cup. Reed’s action took Archer out of his musings, and he remembered the Lieutenant’s words about Bern. How many things do I not know about Malcolm? Archer thought while looking at the coffee pouring into Reed’s cup.

“Coffee, sir?” Reed asked. Archer nodded. The sound of liquid in motion was the only sound in the Ready Room.

The Captain took the pad and started reading Malcolm’s plan. They spent the next hour discussing it in detail until Archer was satisfied. Reed would run background checks on every crew member – using any means at his disposal.

“I’ll decide on the next step based on your results, Lieutenant,” said Archer in a satisfied tone, as if the problem was already solved and the entire crew had already been cleared of suspicion.

Malcolm had always envied the Captain’s naivety and good will. He himself was a pessimist, after all, and couldn’t help but presume the worse for every situation he was involved in. This one was no different.

“Malcolm, have you contacted Harris yet?” The captain asked.

“Not yet, sir” Malcolm said.

Archer looked at him questioningly, but Reed didn’t explain himself. “I’ll let you know as soon as I reach him, sir.”

“Good” was the captain’s answer.

______

XII.-

T’Pol dropped her Vulcan cushions on her bed, finishing her morning ritual: shower, dress, make bed, order cushions, and turned towards the door to leave her quarters. She looked at it and stopped, her eyes returning to her bed. The feel of Trip’s touch on her belly was clear in her mind, the scratchy sensation his stubbled cheeks made on hers still tingling. The effect his kisses had on her breathing caused her nostrils to expand in a deep breath. She closed her eyes in a failed attempt to regain her composure. A tiny, almost undetectable, smile crossed her lips. Her eyes opened and she faced the door again. He is most likely waiting for me in the Mess Hall, she thought.

An almost uncontrollable desire to leave and run to his side washed over her, but she refrained. T’Pol was glad he’d come to her yesterday. She would not have called for him, even though she missed his presence deeply. Her logic would have prevented it. It would have told her that he was probably doing something useful somewhere else. It would not be logical to interrupt him because she was nostalgic. The bond allowed her to sense what he was doing, not in detail but clearly enough to identify if he was busy or not. She didn’t sense busy right now, but anxiousness and sorrow. We must discuss our situation, crossed her mind. Her legs moved in controlled steps as she left her quarters.

On her way to the Mess Hall, Commander T’Pol ordered her thoughts, and decided her discussion with Commander Tucker would have to wait until a proper venue for such an intimate talk was available. During today’s breakfast she would learn about Orpheus’ engines while enjoying a cup of tea and some Earth fruits. This last desire was one of the many unVulcan customs she had adopted while on Enterprise. She was not supposed to enjoy meals, but she did, especially peaches and strawberries.

She encountered a number of crewmembers on her walk from her quarters and greeted them with curt Vulcan nods, so typical coming from her. Most of them saw and saluted Commander T’Pol, the Science Officer, a strong, intelligent woman, and nobody saw T’Pol, the complex, compassionate and vulnerable person she had become. She was Vulcan, after all.

While entering the Mess Hall, she saw Trip sitting at a table next to a viewport, his hands around a coffee mug, his eyes looking into space. She ordered tea and walked towards him.

He had been sitting alone, staring into the stars for the last five minutes, his coffee cooling between his hands. His mind wondered what the day would bring, what T’Pol would tell him, if she agreed to talk. He could still feel her warm touch on his face, his back, his hands. A smile reached his eyes, and he lowered his face, hiding behind his cup while drinking some coffee, self-conscious of his expression. Trip heard someone saluting him and he turned to see who it was – Crewman Davies from security. He nodded back and spotted T’Pol walking towards him. He thought about restraining himself, but he didn’t. He enjoyed watching her openly while she approached him, his eyes traveling down from hers to her hips and then back up to her lips, focusing there until she sat next to him. The sound her cup made when it touched the table made Trip blink and look back at her eyes. Warm dark brown greeted him.

“Want anything special for breakfast?” he asked her while standing up.

“Fruit salad,” she said.

He nodded and walked towards the buffet in search of their breakfast. Her first impulse was to follow him with her eyes to study the way he moved while walking – his back, his arms. Instead, she breathed deeply, concentrating on her tea cup, the steam flowing out from it, the smell of chamomile strong in front of her, her mind blank, until he came back.

A couple of minutes later, Trip sat down next to her and both of them ate in silence.

“We need to talk,” he said suddenly. She turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were calm but the tightness around her lips gave her away.

“I agree,” T’Pol told him. “But I would rather wait until we are in private,” she added.

“Tonight?” he asked. She agreed with a slight nod.

“What did you find regarding Orpheus engines?” she asked, redirecting his attention to safer terrain.

“Before I fill you in about that, the captain ordered us to prepare a detailed inventory related to a sensor upgrade that’s going to be installed as soon as we leave Mars – Vulcan design,” he finished wriggling his eyebrows. “Do you have any plans for this morning?” he asked her.

“No, but I don’t believe you’ll need my assistance to finish an inventory” she answered. Trip smiled at her teasingly.

“It’s a Vulcan upgrade. I’m sure that we’ll finish a lot faster if you’re there.”

She pursed her lips slightly. Doubtful. “Where are the sensors going to be installed?”

“Jupiter Station,” Trip said as he buttered his toast.

“Will you be supervising the upgrades?”

“Not sure. The crew’s going on shore leave. I…haven’t made my mind yet.” Trip looked at her for a while.
“Will you go with me?” he asked her quietly. He had been thinking about going to a quiet beach he liked. He was pretty sure she would like it too.

She raised her eyes from the fruit salad she had been eating and looked at Trip. His expression was guarded, his eyes intent on her. A salty smell washed over her, a moist breeze seemed to pass through her hair. She frowned slightly. The beach, she thought. She was certain both of them would benefit from some time alone together. There was much to talk about and agree upon.

“Will we have time for historical and geographical visits?” she asked him while piercing a slice of fresh peach with her fork.

“Sight seeing?” his voice said, amused.

“Essentially,” she answered without looking at him.

Trip chuckled, nodding at her. She raised a brow at him, amusement evident in her eyes.

When had she first allowed herself to engage in these games with him? He couldn’t remember exactly. They had argued since day one, but at some point, from time to time, it had become a game, a subtle, difficult to notice, flirting and teasing give and take between them. He had never seen her do it with anybody else. Was it because of all those hours they’d spent talking during neuropressure? Probably, he thought. Somehow, during that dark period of their lives they’d won each others trust. For him, it had become clear when he’d let go and cried for his sister in front of her without feeling shame or self-consciousness. T’Pol’s change, on the other hand, hadn’t been so abrupt. It had unfolded slowly through the months they had spent together since then. She’d done it in her own way, showing him her real self: witty, compassionate, tender and even sweet. Maybe she’s not even aware of it, he thought. Her eyes returned to his with a questioning look. He had been watching her tenderly this whole time. He shook his head slightly to let her know everything was fine.

“Are you finished?” she asked him, returning him to the here and now.

“Yep” he said. “Let’s go meet with the Captain, Soval’ll be here any minute now. I’ll tell you about the Vulcan nacelles on our way there.”

“What Vulcan nacelles?” T’Pol asked while picking her cup and dish.

“Paxton’s,” Trip said, shocking her.

________

XIII.-

Ambassador Soval sat alone in the meeting room in the diplomatic shuttle that was transporting him to Enterprise. The room’s dark coppery and sandy coloring highlighted the dark greenish and golden lines on his elegant suit. In front of him lay a series of pads containing the reports Starfleet investigating teams had generated during the few days they had had access to Terra Prime’s material and evidence, as well as detailed Vulcan documentation regarding non-military nacelle designs and – something that had disgusted him deeply – classified genetic research results on Vulcan and Human DNA.

After V’Las’ fall, many Vulcan government organizations had been investigated and audited, resulting in profound changes in their administration and purposes. The Science Directorate and its branches had been spared until now. He was certain that a thorough investigation would reveal political influences resulting in altered research findings. Soval’s logical mind protested. How was it possible that such reputable scientists had been convinced to report misleading results? What arguments had V’Las’ officers used to persuade them?

His mind discarded any explanation, logical or not, that the scientists were likely to offer for their actions. He concluded that the ending of the Science Directorate as it had been known and the appointment of a new scientific authority was the only viable solution. Credibility would be lost regarding every scientific statement produced in the last two decade as soon as the facts he had just read were publicized. It was inevitable. Reputations would be tainted, lifetime works would be lost. It was a high price to pay, but Vulcan had to re-build its foundation based on logic and truth.

His eyes focused on Starfleet’s last report. He remembered Forrest, and the many meetings, conferences and talks they had engaged in during all those years, so different from the current situation. Soval recognized the feeling – nostalgia. His trained mind discarded the sensation and replaced it with productive thoughts. A plan should be defined so he could establish better communications with his friend’s substitute. I’m deceiving myself again…friendship is a human concept, he thought. I should meditate on the journey back to San Francisco, he decided.

The sound of the pilot’s voice announcing that they would be docking with Enterprise in 74 seconds, was answered with a requirement from the Ambassador. “Connect me with Captain Archer immediately,” his voice replied in deep melodious Vulcan.

Archer’s ready room was crowded with his senior staff. T’Pol, Trip and Malcolm were sitting around his desk. They had reviewed – again – the reports from Starfleet Intelligence, mostly to update the Commanders who had returned to duty that morning.It was quite productive, Jon thought. T’Pol’s insight and unemotional views regarding the few facts and several theories they had reviewed was grounding. He had missed her down-to-Earth comments. He smiled to himself. Well actually, I should say “down-to-Vulcan” comments, he mused. Trip, surprisingly, had listened most of the time, only asking questions focused on topics that needed further investigation. Jon realized that he was controlling himself. He’d flushed red in anger a couple of times but said nothing, just looked at the stars each time.

“We don’t expect updates until tomorrow morning,” Malcolm informed T’Pol. “But we may get some news this evening. Commander Rossi will be joining us for dinner,” he added. She looked at him and nodded silently. Her experience told her that Soval would clarify some of the hypotheses they had reviewed. It was the only logical explanation for his journey to Enterprise.

“Captain, we have an incoming call from Ambassador Soval. His shuttle will be docking with us in about a minute or so,” Hoshi’s replacement said, distracting T’Pol from her thoughts.

“Put him through,” Archer’s voice sounded in front of her.

“Captain Archer.” Soval’s voice was clearly heard by the four of them.

“Ambassador,” Archer returned. His voice sounded relaxed as if he was greeting a long time friend and not the Vulcan Ambassador to Earth.

Trip noticed and smiled to himself. Who would have thought?

“I’d rather meet with you on board the Gol, if it is not much trouble for you Captain,” Soval offered stoically.

“Sure. We’re on our way,” Archer said, frowning. Why not here? he thought, looking at Malcolm as the communication ended.

“What’s going on?” Trip asked.

“No idea,” Archer said.

The three men looked at T’Pol, who looked back at them nonplussed. She stood up and walked to the door. “I believe it would be wise to board the Gol as soon as possible,” she told them, pressing the opening button.

“Malcolm, you have the bridge,” the Captain told Reed while leaving the Ready Room.

Their walk to the airlock was silent, each of them hypothesizing the reasons that could explain Soval’s invitation. Archer thought that the ambassador was aware of the presence of Terra Primers on Enterprise. T’Pol concluded that whatever it was that the Ambassador was about to communicate to them must be delicate enough to avoid any chance of eavesdropping.

When the shuttle’s airlock opened, they were received by a Vulcan officer who escorted them to the meeting room where Soval was waiting for them. As soon as they arrived, the Ambassador stood up and greeted them with handshakes, except for T’Pol, whom he greeted in Vulcan. Trip didn’t recognize the words. Whatever Soval said to T’Pol wasn’t the usual “live long and prosper” he had memorized a while ago. He looked at her, checking to see if she was fine with it, and, apparently, she was. Actually, she thanked the older man in response. He felt it again, a warm breeze. He recognized it as their bond. This time, it brought her sorrow as well as gratitude. She caught him looking at her and saw his concern. Her eyes warmed, soothing him.

Soval’s words of sympathy surprised her. It wasn’t usual for him to reach out to others in situations like these. The old mourning verse he had spoken had kindled her sorrow again, forcing T’Pol to concentrate on suppressing its effects. It wasn’t as difficult as it had been in previous days, but she had to consciously focus on it. She looked at Trip and caught his eyes still on her. She wished they were alone.

“Please take a seat,” Soval offered, and each of Enterprise’s officers took seats in front of him. He looked at each of them before speaking. His eyes finally settled on T’Pol, who was patiently looking back at him.

“I’m here on behalf of Vulcan’s High Council, and authorized by Starfleet Command,” he started. Archer frowned, listening carefully. T’Pol didn’t show anything openly, and Trip was surprised with the Ambassador’s solemnity.

“The facts I am about to explain to you are, in some cases, classified, and in others part of an ongoing investigation,” he continued.

“We all understand what you mean, Ambassador. But before you go on, and forgive me for asking so bluntly... Why are you here?” Archer interrupted him.

Soval’s eyebrows rose slightly and his breathing deepened. Regardless of his respect for Archer, he still considered the man irritating.

“As I said before, I’m here on behalf…,” Soval started to answer. But Archer raised his hand to stop him.

“That’s not what I meant. Sorry. Why didn’t Starfleet inform us directly? And it’s not that I’m not glad to see you again,” the captain said, smiling slightly.

The Ambassador’s eyes lowered to the table for a couple of seconds before returning to Archer’s. “I insisted that Starfleet Command allow me to be the one to bring this information to you – all of you,” Soval answered.

“Why here and not on Enterprise?” Archer asked.

Soval’s jaw tightened slightly. “There is some information I am about to disclose to you that is not part of the purpose of this official visit. I believe that can be accomplished safely in here.”

His answer left Archer speechless. “May I continue?” asked Soval. Archer nodded.

“The nacelles used by Paxton on his facility are indeed of Vulcan origin,” Soval told them.

”The design was developed over a hundred years ago while Vulcan was at war with the Rihannsu. Its main purpose was to propel support facilities for our troops. After the discovery of defective self-destruction mechanisms that permitted the loss of several of these facilities by enemy hands, it was determined to be a faulty design and not used again, until now,” he explained. His words reverberated through T’Pol’s head. Earlier she had argued with Trip about the feasibility of his assumption about the nacelles’ origin. It wasn’t logical, she had told him, for Paxton to use alien technology, nor was logical for aliens to support his organization. His instincts were correct, logical or not, she thought.

“Who are these Rihannsu? We’ve never met them. Why would they help Terra Prime?” Trip asked.

“We have met them,” T’Pol said. Both human males looked at her, confused. “They are also known as Romulans,” she explained.

Archer’s mind listed the occasions when he had heard about Romulans: the mine field and the invisible ships; the drones piloted by the Aenar Gareb, and Agent Daniel’s future library and that book about the Romulan Empire that he hadn’t been allowed to read.

“Does Vulcan have contact with them?” asked Trip.

“After the hostilities were suspended, no diplomatic or commercial contacts were officially established. But the Vulcan Security Ministry has monitored Romulan activities wherever they have emerged.”

“Where?” asked Archer.

“The Orion Syndicate, where they have bought enslaved laborers for centuries, Coridan for their mineral supplies, Rigel X and XII for the black markets. We have information that indicates that they have some kind of arrangement with the Klingon Empire,” Soval said before taking one of his pads and giving it to T’Pol. He spoke to her in Vulcan and her face tightened.

The older man had advised her about Romulan activity on Vulcan while handing a pad containing detailed information about it. Realizing the extent of their activities caused her pulse to quicken, especially after recognizing some of the names on the list of suspected collaborators. V’Las, Doctor Kalev the Science Academy’s director, Stel… how many others are involved? she thought to herself. The sound of Trip’s voice broke her focus on the pad.

“Where else?” asked Trip, while looking at T’Pol and feeling her concern.

“Vulcan and Earth,” the Ambassador told him. Trip frowned. Archer started to ask if Starfleet was informed, but Soval stopped him with his hand.

“Gentlemen, I have not finished,” the older man said, his voice deeper than usual. The humans settled into an uncomfortable silence, their emotions, mostly fear and anxiety, filling the room as if a thin fog was surrounding them.

“Vulcan’s High Council has decided to aid Earth against the Romulans. Our involvement should not be disclosed to avoid alienating Andoria and Tellar, and also to prevent any increase on Romulan activity on Earth and Vulcan until their intentions are discovered,” Soval continued.

“Any ideas what that may be?” Trip asked, his eyes narrowing.

The older man’s eyebrows rose in exhaustion before he answered. “Our governments believe it might be related to Earth’s success against the Xindi…but I do not.”

At the mention of the Xindi, Archer’s face sombered. Even though they had been successful, it had been too high a price to pay. Not again, he thought to himself. Soval’s obvious disagreement with their governments made him smile and regain hope somehow.

“What’s your theory?” Jon asked the older man.

“After Administrator V’Las’ government ended, a series of irregularities were uncovered in several of our institutions. The High Command was the most affected, as you are aware, but the Security Ministry was dissolved as well. Romulan activities on Vulcan were not initially disclosed to the Ministers, except for V’Las of course, nor to the public. Minister T’Pau and the rest of the ruling ministers were informed as soon as the information was confirmed. It’s logical to think that Romulan activity on Vulcan and Romulan sympathizers persist in their actions,” the Ambassador explained.

“You believe there are still Romulan sympathizers infiltrated in Vulcan’s government,” T´Pol finished Soval’s thoughts. The older man nodded.

“I am certain of that. What we do not know for the time being is how far this infiltration goes. Minister T’Pau agreed to help Earth without our involvement being disclosed, so we will be able to gain time to continue our investigations,” Soval added.

Trip felt T’Pol’s agitation as a tingling sensation at the back of his head. His eyes went to hers again. She looked calm as always, her slightly faster breathing rhythm was the only sign that gave her away.

“I guess our people don’t know about this, do they?” Archer asked.

“You are correct, Captain. They do not.”

Enterprise’s officers processed this piece of information in silence until Trip spoke up. “If it’s not the Xindi, then what is it that the Romulans are after?”

Soval eyes turned to him – sizing him up. The chief engineer hadn’t lost his focus. Commander Tucker is able to isolate his thinking processes from shocking distractions. He is still following his prey. Why Earth? Remarkable.

“Vulcan’s isolation from our allies,” Soval announced.

“I’m sorry, Ambassador, but I don’t follow,” Trip said, his eyes hard on Soval.

“I believe the Rihannsu decided to use Terra Prime and Earth’s post-traumatic effects after the Xindi attack to isolate Earth from Vulcan. They chose your people carefully. They have been studying you for years. Earth is Vulcan’s ally, the primary one most likely to support us in war or disaster, regardless of the situation. This fact would bring some of Earth’s allies to support Vulcan as well,” he elaborated, tiredness showing on his face.

“Why would you postulate this theory?” T’Pol asked him.

“V’Las’ behavior had been consistent. The decision not to aid Earth after the Xindi attack was not unanimous among the High Command ministers. It was V’Las imposition.” The older man paused and looked at them.

Archer’s expression was guarded but surprised. Commander Tucker’s expressiveness showed clearly that finally the Vulcan’s actions made sense to him. As for T’Pol, her jaw tightened subtly and her eyes blazed with outrage, which was no surprise to Soval. He had known her for many years and he empathized with her feelings. He had been outraged when he heard of the decision for the first time, as well as when the reasons behind it were uncovered.

“V’Las was an opportunistic man. I believe he seized the opportunity the Xindi gave him to accomplish his goal. If Earth had been destroyed, Vulcan would have lost a faithful ally. The message given to the stellar community would have been a damaging one to Vulcan. The result would have been most certainly isolation from some, if not all our allies. Fortunately, Earth prevailed.” Soval paused a moment before continuing.

Archer remembered the talks he’d had with Soval after they returned from the Expanse, his emotional outbreaks as well as Soval’s thanks for saving Vulcan as well. Was he thanking me for avoiding this, too? he thought. Maybe if there was a chance he’d ask Soval sometime.

“The unsuccessful invasion of Andoria was another attempt to debilitate Vulcan, the opportunity the Romulans have been waiting for to attack us again,” the old man told them.

“What does Paxton have to do with all of this? Why would he accept help from aliens?” Trip asked anxiously.

“Nothing at all. The information we posses indicates that Paxton was not aware of the alien aid he received,” Soval said, puzzling Trip even more.

“Mr. Paxton’s goal was to return Earth to its rightful owners as he himself said, which would mean isolation from other species, including Vulcans. He was useful. Terra Prime was contacted years ago by Romulan agents, they had exchanged information as well as technology since then.” Soval’s slow and slightly monotonous voice filled the room while Trip watched him.

“How long have you known about Romulan activity on Earth?” Archer asked.

“The classified report was forwarded to the Embassy seventeen weeks ago. The connection with Terra Prime was uncovered more recently,” Soval said calmly.

“What kind of information do you think they have about us?” Jon asked.

“Most of the investigation results have not been confirmed. However, Vulcan Intelligence is certain that they were able to acquire Human technology – several freighter ships and weapons,” T’Pol said offering the pad she had been reading to the Captain. The name Chimera reverberated through Archer’s skull, his eyes focused on Soval’s unblinking eyes as if in a trance.

“The Chimera?” he asked and turned to look at T’Pol.

“There is no mention of the ships’ names,” she said.

“At least we have a pretty good idea about who provided Paxton with alien technology. Now we just have to find this damn Chimera,” Trip said while rubbing his forehead. Phlox’s words went through his mind as if he were reading music – enclosed between parallel lines, some letters up others down – “deep knowledge of both Vulcan and Human immunological systems…” He was about to ask about it but T’Pol beat him to it.

“Did the Rihannsu have access to Vulcan medical or genetic information?” she asked in a clear voice.

Soval breathed deeply before answering T’Pol. “It is a possibility that is being investigated as we speak,” he said.

“Investigated where?” Trip asked in a low voice.

“At the Vulcan Science Directorate,” the older man said. “A series of previously undisclosed scientific investigations were brought to light recently. At least one of them is suspected to be linked to Paxton’s cloning process.”

“What kind of investigation?” Trip asked again.

Soval gave another pad to T’Pol, who was looking at him, unmoving. “Vulcan/Human genetic compatibility,” he said. Confusion showed on Archer’s face. “I thought that they had determined that Vulcan and Humans can’t reproduce,” he voiced.

“You are correct, Captain, that was the primary result. However the continuing investigations revealed that it is possible through minor genetic manipulation,” Soval voiced uncomfortably.

“Since when did they know about this?” Trip said.

Soval’s shoulders straightened and he moved back slightly before answering Trip. If he were human his body language would have given away the shame he felt, but he was not, so it passed as a Vulcan mannerism to both humans. Only T’Pol recognized the uncomfortable situation the Ambassador was in.

“47 Earth years.” His words filled the gloomy silence in the room.

T’Pol eyes focused directly on the older man’s face. Her voice was steady and low when she asked, “How much of this information have the Romulans had access to?” Soval’s response was worse than anyone expected.

“The facts we have confirmed so far indicate that the Rihannsu have had access to the Science Directorate findings for the last thirty years,” he replied somberly.

“I’ll be damned,” Trip said. Both of his hands went to his head and through his hair before he asked, “What about your technological and military research?”

“If it was under any of the Science Directorate branches it’s most likely in their possession,” the Ambassador said, spreading his hands on the table’s surface.

“I guess keeping a low profile in any Romulan related issue would be the logical thing to do, then, wouldn’t it?” Trip said more than asked.

Archer looked at him, raising both his eyebrows. Trip was right. In this scenario, Vulcan shouldn’t risk attracting Romulan attention. It would be too dangerous. So much for classified material, he thought. “If your suspicions are confirmed, your position against the Romulans is quite weak...but you already know that, don’t you?” Jon asked.

“Indeed Captain, we do,” Soval said.

“What do you want us to do?” Jon asked openly.

Trip had been watching the last exchange of words intently. He thought he was imagining things when he noticed an almost imperceptible change on Soval’s face – relief.

“If the time comes and Earth is attacked by the Rihannsu in the near future, we will need your support in convincing Starfleet and your government that Vulcan cannot be involved openly in any military actions against them. We will aid Earth unconditionally, but our participation must be kept confidential,” Soval voiced calmly.

Archer nodded in agreement. “Let’s hope that won’t happen,” he said.

“It most likely will.” The Ambassador’s words chilled Trip, who had been looking at T’Pol. His eyes returned to Soval just before he continued. Soval took a small data storage device from his pocket and gave it to Archer. “Earth must be prepared,” he told him. “I believe you will be able to pass this information where it will be most useful,” he finished.

“What’s in here?” Archer asked while looking at the small disk.

“Information about Romulan activities on Earth as well as all of Vulcan knowledge on their technology,” Soval answered calmly.

Jon looked at the older man for some time in silence. “Why not give this directly to Star Fleet?” he asked finally.

“It is too much of a risk, Captain. Vulcan can not be linked to any action against the Romulan Empire until their sympathizers are identified and accounted for. Our current government is not strong enough. Civil unrest would be as debilitating as any of V’Las’ past actions,” T’Pol said before Soval could answer. The older Vulcan looked at her and approved her conclusions with a subtle nod.

Archer’s face tightened at hearing his first officer’s words. He hadn’t previously been aware of the situation on Vulcan. He looked at Soval and offered his hand.

“I’ll do whatever I can to help you” he announced. The ambassador studied Archer’s face, noticing the stress lines in his forehead, the graying hair at his temples, the lack of the childlike, enthusiastic light his eyes had worn when he’d left spacedock, defying Vulcan advice. Even though the human had gained much experience during his time in command of Enterprise, his emotions, trust, in this case, were still ruling much of his decisions.

While taking Archer’s offered hand, his words filled the strained silence that had descended on them. “You have not changed. This is a reckless decision, Captain. You should analyze the implications of what I am asking from you before committing yourself.”

You haven’t changed either, you old fart, Jon thought while smiling and shaking his head.

Archer’s amused expression surprised the old man. Irritating human, Soval thought once again.

“I guess you’ll never get it, Ambassador. But as we humans say, that’s what friends are for,” Archer quipped.

Presumptuous as well, the old Vulcan thought while glaring at Archer.

The pact was sealed. Success has been achieved. Soval had not doubted the outcome of this endeavor. Captain Archer was predictable, after all. Even if Archer had distrusted the Vulcan’s offer, Soval had anticipated that Commander Tucker would have believed him, and in doing so would have helped him convince Archer.

The walk to the airlock that would get them back to Enterprise was quiet, each of them engrossed in their own thoughts. Archer was getting used to the idea of being sucked into another war. Starfleet is not a military organization. We’re not ready.

Trip, thinking along the same lines and worrying about T’Pol, mused, Would the Romulans focus on her because she is the only Vulcan serving in Starfleet?

T’Pol, planning the research she would conduct on the information Soval had provided them, focused her mind away from the emotions Soval’s words had elicited. This is neither the time nor the venue, she repeated to herself again and again.

The turbolift’s ride seemed longer than usual to Archer. He was eager to get to the bridge. Finally, he thought when the doors opened. Malcolm, seated in the command chair, joined the others in the captain’s ready room at Archer’s gesture. Once the door was closed, Archer handed the pad containing Soval’s precious classified information to T’Pol. He addressed his First Officer and his Chief of Security.

“Give this a full review and bring me a detailed report as soon as possible,” he told them. Malcolm turned to T’Pol with a puzzled expression. She tipped her head toward the exit.

“To the situation room, Lieutenant. I’ll explain when we get there,” she said briskly. Malcolm raised an intrigued brow as he followed her out of the door.

Jon sat down, leaned his head back on his armchair and closed his eyes for a while. Trip stood standing, his arms crossed and his eyes on the stars visible through the viewport.

“How long do you think we have?” Trip said.

“Not much. Months, maybe a year.”

“We’re not ready, Cap’n,” Trip’s voice came out lower than usual.

“I know.” The man looking back at Trip had aged before his eyes. Tiredness showed on all of his features.

We’re supposed to be explorers, Trip thought while looking at Archer. He understood the Captain’s feelings. They were supposed to be discovering, meeting new species, opening commercial interchanges. War was never a part of Star Fleet purposes. Nor was it something Archer or his father ever wanted to be involved with. But it was a threat – again – so they’d have to cope.

_______

XIV.-

He was supposed to be eating his lunch, not standing in front of a seldomly used terminal at the starboard nacelle’s access tube. He hoped T’Pol wouldn’t be asking him about his whereabouts after not seeing him in the Mess Hall. Bloody Harris and his instructions, Malcolm thought. Even after all the time he had served the Section and all the times he’d had to lie to fulfill his assignments, he had never gotten used to it. ”It’s not my cup of tea,” as Trip would say in his lousy British accent. Malcolm’s thoughts drifted to his friend. He smiled in spite of himself, remembering Trip’s face when he had answered the engineer about being sent to the brig. He was grateful to Captain Archer for ordering him not to let anyone know their arrangement. He didn’t have to lie to the Chief Engineer just find a way not to tell him anything. Trip’s expression had been priceless when he’d replied, in his very best fake southern accent, “Keep your shirt on, Commander. I’m staying on board.”

His eyes went to the display, where he typed in his code and the string of numbers Harris had attached to his instructions. Malcolm wondered about what kind of security settings were available in this specific terminal. If I check the maintenance logs I probably won’t find anything special about it, he mused.
Where was it changed and who did it? Probably after we came back from our encounter with Harrad Sar … so the NX team at Jupiter Station must be the ones, then, or maybe during the conference. There was a team from Starfleet Warp R&D that came on board, Malcolm remembered. I’ll ask Harris directly,he decided finally. Considering the information Soval gave them, it was possible that Harris would tell him the truth. It was worth a try, at any rate.

“Lieutenant Reed, I thought you informed me you wouldn’t be contacting me again, ever,” Harris greeted him, amusement evident in his voice.

Malcolm’s face tightened subtly. You do what you have to. His father’s remembrance was clear in his mind. “I suppose you are aware of the results of the Terra Prime investigation. There is some data that we need,” Malcolm said without preamble.

“We, being Archer and yourself, I assume. I suppose I’ll be indebted to your captain for doing my job and bringing you back into active service.” Harris kept up his pestering line of dialog.

Haven’t you ever heard the saying, “He who laughs last, laughs best”? Malcolm thought to himself. There’s another word for laughter that my father liked to use, he mused distractedly. It was right on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t seem to remember it.

“You’ll be indebted to the Captain, I’m certain of that. We have information that I believe you’ll be interested in, but before we go into that... Who is Klaus Bern? And where is the Chimera?” Malcolm asked.

“I’m sending you everything we have on Mr. Bern and his ship. Actually, I should say... what is left of his ship,” Harris told him while smiling placidly.

Malcolm’s eyes narrowed, his lips becoming a thin line, enraged. Here we go again, one step behind, he thought while reading the data that was shown on his screen. The Chimera was believed to have been destroyed by a Klingon war ship not 24 hours ago. The data on Bern was insightful, though. The guy was a mercenary. He’d worked for the Vulcans for some time as an observer while on board a series of illegal freighters that visited Coridan regularly. The list of people related to him and his business was large. Graves’ name caught his attention immediately.

“What did Soval tell you? If I may ask, of course,” Harris asked, distracting Malcolm from his reading. It was no surprise to him that the Section was already aware of Soval’s visit – but he would bet a considerable amount of credits that they had no idea about the topics discussed. Malcolm’s features relaxed and a tiny – almost unnoticeable – smile graced his lips before he answered Harris.

Mirth, that’s the word, he remembered triumphantly. It’s my turn to be mirthful now. Who said revenge wasn’t sweet?

“Plenty” he informed Harris.

“About what?”

“Romulan activity on Earth, among other things,” Malcolm voiced while watching Harris smugly. He picked up the older’s man controlled reaction – surprise. I got you, you old bugger. Bloody hell, I did! Reed had never seen surprise on the man’s face before.

“What’s your Captain’s offer, Lieutenant?” Harris said in a low almost menacing tone.

“Mutual co-operation.”

Upon hearing Reed’s words, Harris pursed his lips in frustration. He had never been comfortable with mutual commitments. The upper hand was his thing, but this time he wasn’t certain it would do. I’ll try anyway, he thought without conviction. He himself had trained Reed so he knew the man could be trusted on being thorough. Exceptionally so, he remembered.

“When can we meet?” This wasn’t the next step Malcolm had predicted. It was strange. Harris was never eager for meetings.

“We’ll be arriving in San Francisco tomorrow before noon.”

“All right, then, I’ll contact you to let you know where and when,” Harris said before severing the connection abruptly.

“Wait…” He didn’t have time to tell Harris about the crew background checks he needed done.

His fingers typed in a series of commands to check for outside accesses into Enterprise’s main computers, and there it was: a full scan of any files accessed by himself this morning. Underestimated, that’s what I am, he thought while smiling broadly. The encrypted file he planted with his mother’s pineapple cake recipe had just been transferred out. Hope you like it. His chuckle echoed through the access tube while he retraced his steps on his way back to the Mess Hall. The plan was working, the bait was in the open and apparently Harris had bitten – so to speak. He also was right in his suspicions about the Section accessing Enterprise’s data bases. Now Harris was certain that they were aware of it. Malcolm remembered the look T’Pol had given him when he suggested keeping the data on the Vulcan pad and not transferring it to Enterprise’s main computer. She had understood his apprehension immediately.

He stopped at the turbolift, waiting for it to get to E deck. His face calmed. The look in his eyes was clear – hiding his concern. He was certain about what they were getting into, but was Captain Archer?

I’d say the leverage is on our side, for now. But for how long? Reed thought before stepping in.

_______

XV.-

Upon entering the observation deck she noticed that the table was set for eight. Travis will be joining us, she thought. She was early as usual, so she decided to enjoy the little time she had alone, admiring the viewports that showed some of the constellations visible from Mars. Enterprise was on its way to Jupiter station for repairs and some down time for its crew. Ensign Sato was tired and grateful for the opportunity to put some time and distance between herself and recent events. She wanted to go home and spent time with her family.

The decoding of Paxton’s files had demanded long hours of sleep deprived work, but the facts she had read were far worse and had affected her more than she realized. Her mind had drifted to her home several times since Captain Archer told her about shore leave, which was unusual. Most of her previous vacations had been used to spend time with a group of friends in some exotic place on Earth whose language she didn’t know that well. Every time she’d told her family that she’d visit they’d ended up waiting for her in vain. Not this time, she thought while walking to a small side table where water was available.

I hope this dinner won’t end being some kind of stressful event, I’m not in the mood…, Her mental complaint ended in synchrony with her getting closer to a viewport.

The door opened and Captain Archer and Malcolm walked in. She picked up a couple of words from their conversation before they saw her. It seems that Malcolm won’t be going on shore leave, she thought in unexpected disappointment while turning around to greet them.

She had no opportunity to ask Reed about him staying on board. Trip and T’Pol arrived as soon as the door closed behind the Captain. A couple of minutes later, Commander Rossi came in, clean shaven and visibly less tired. He was right after all, two hours of sleep did do wonders for him, she thought with admiration while he walked to where she and the others were talking.

“Captain, thank you for the ride again, sir,” Rossi said while offering his hand.

“It won’t be for free, Commander. I expect you to keep me informed about your findings,” Archer said while shaking Rossi’s hand.

The tall man smiled and nodded. “I’ve figured that out already, sir”.

When the Captain introduced Rossi to the Commanders, she noticed that while he shook Trip’s hand, he only nodded as a greeting for T’Pol, a gesture that the Vulcan returned. They didn’t have to wait long before Phlox and Travis arrived.

Fortunately, Hoshi’s wishes came true. Dinner was quite relaxed, even though she noticed the Captain’s dark mood. What is he worrying about? Trip was quieter than usual too, less outgoing than he used to be. She knew this wasn’t a coincidence, but she attributed it to the information they’d uncovered by decoding Paxton’s files.

Most of the conversation was led by Phlox and, surprisingly, T’Pol, whose interest was piqued by Commander Rossi’s talk about the diverse effects and reactions of Earth’s different population groups after the end of the Xindi threat.

Hoshi’s choice for dessert surprised Malcolm. He was always teasing her about only eating fruits because it was healthier than eating sweets. Tonight she wanted a sweet, creamy, comforting cheese cake dressed with strawberry sauce and a piece of dark chocolate. The look he gave her spoke volumes. Hoshi smiled at him and shrugged. Soon dinner will be over and she’d be able to practice some yoga and get a good night sleep.

Apparently, Malcolm realized how tired she was, or maybe she was just imagining things, but as soon as her tea was over he stood up and told the Captain that he had some reports to finish, which everybody, except Rossi and the Captain, used as their cue to leave.

She watched Trip and T’Pol walk to the door while Malcolm waited for her next to the captain’s chair. Hoshi smiled at Archer before passing by him and catching up to Reed, who walked her to the door.
“Still suffering from your all nighter?” he murmured without looking at her, his eyes focused on fingering the door opening mechanism. Hoshi looked at his profile before answering

“A little…” she said while exiting the room. Reed smiled while watching her.

“You’ll get over it. There’s nothing a good yoga session won’t cure, is there?” he mocked her.

“Don’t start Malcolm. I’m not in the mood.” Her voice was all he heard. He couldn’t see her face, but her smile was obvious anyway.

“Same old, same old,” he said before laughing out loud. She turned and gave him an outraged look. His teasing had the effect he was looking for. She ended up laughing with him, relaxing in the process.

“Come on,” Malcolm told her while walking in the direction of the turbolift.

_______

XVI.-

Trip heard Malcolm’s laughter just before the turbolift’s door closed. He wondered what was so funny while massaging his injured shoulder. It had been hurting some since mid-afternoon but he’d decided to ignore it to ensure he had enough time to study the Vulcan’s sensor schematics and finish the inventory the Captain had ordered.

T’Pol’s touch on his hand was warm and soft. Concern was evident in her eyes. There you go again, sweetie... not worryin’, he thought while smiling at her.

“I’m OK,” he said. She ignored him.

“How much pain are you in?” she asked him while rubbing his shoulder softly.

“Depends…” She cocked her head to one side waiting for him to explain.

“Are you going to massage me like this if it only hurts a little?” he teased her.

T’Pol took a deep breath and she pursed her lips slightly, then her eyes settled on his, unguarded. “If it only hurts a little you would have told me right away, so I presume it hurts more than a little.”

“I’m just tired, that’s all,” Trip told her, his tender look still on her.

It was disarming whenever his feelings appeared clearly on his face or in his eyes. She couldn’t help but react emotionally. Her eyes filled with tears and her throat tightened. It was amazing the effect one of his loving looks could have on her. T’Pol was thankful that he managed to restrain himself while on duty or while being accompanied by others. He knows, she thought.

The turbolift’s doors opened, distracting them both. The walk towards T’Pol’s quarters was short and in silence.

Trip liked her quarters – always had. The atmosphere had a calming effect on him – the bed clothes’ coloring, her cushions, T’Pol’s candles, the smell. He could recognize it everywhere, even though he wasn’t sure what caused it. He often thought it was weird. He couldn’t remember other places’ smells at all, never noticed them.

He walked over to her bunk and sat down, patting at his side as an invitation for T’Pol to join him. She complied and sat next to him. A minute passed before she stopped focusing on something in front of her and looked at Trip. She studied his face for a while, taking in the features which she had watched so many times before: the tiny wrinkles that formed around his eyes when he smiled, the dark blue spots in his eyes, the deep curve on his upper lip. Trip waited patiently for her, but finally he spoke.

“What are we going to do?” No more running around, he thought.

The first thing that crossed her mind was to ask what was he talking about, but she knew perfectly well what he meant.

“I’m not certain,” she answered truthfully. “This morning when we agreed to have this conversation the circumstances were different,” she continued. Soval’s revelations had changed Enterprise’s and her crew’s future. They both knew that if Soval was right Earth would be involved in another war shortly. There wouldn’t be much time for any other issues in their lives.

“So I guess we’ll just…go on hold,” Trip said.

“Is that what you want?” she asked him while her deep brown eyes searched his face.

“No…you?” he said while his hand covered hers, their fingers intertwining.

“I want… us… staying together,” her voice was quiet almost a whisper but Trip heard her. This time he was the one amazed with the effects T’Pol had on him. Her eyes were filled with emotion – love, maybe? He took several deep breaths so that his voice would return to normal and his sight would uncloud from the extra moisture in his eyes.

He moved closer and buried his face in her neck, hugging her tightly. She could feel him – overwhelmed, that’s how he felt. “What is it?” she asked him and waited until Trip let go a little and spoke into her neck.

“I’ve missed you…so much. And now that I can hug you I’m not letting go unless you kick me.” His smile brushed her neck while his deep, low voice told her how happy he was.

T’Pol didn’t try to stop the slight upward turn her lips took while listening to Trip’s words. She let herself smile, just a little, and return the give and take they both enjoyed so much. “I see. I must tell you that I have missed you as well, but I believe I should clarify my wishes. I do not want you to strike me in any way. Even though I’m not willing to let you go either...” she replied playfully, murmuring in his ear. He chuckled and tightened his embrace.

“Two can play this game, you know,” he said.

“I know,” she returned quietly while her fingers caressed Trip’s neck.

“I believe we should inform Captain Archer,” she told him. Trip nodded, his face still buried in her neck.

“Yeah, he deserves to know, even though he won’t be pleased.”

Trip knew Archer very well. The man went by the book for the most part, and when there was no book or the book didn’t cover the issue at hand, he improvised. In this case the book wasn’t crystal clear. Starfleet didn’t forbid couples in their scientific vessels, didn’t encourage them either. But in war situations a couple would be considered risky, at the very least.

“You think he will consider us a liability.”

He nodded in agreement. ”I would if I were the captain.”

“We have served on Enterprise while having feelings for each other without endangering the ship or its crew for some time now,” she said.

Feelings for each other…Trip thought and smiled. I love you too, sweetie. He kissed her neck softy before moving back and looking at her. His eyes were moist again.

“We’ll have to convince him that it won’t interfere with our work,” he told her while touching her face with the backs of his fingers.

“Agreed.” T’Pol had relaxed visibly since they’d entered her quarters and in that process her tiredness showed. She had been repressing her concern over the facts Soval had told them and her sorrow every time she remembered Elizabeth. There had been no time to meditate that day.

“You OK?” Trip asked her. He sensed her exhaustion and was pretty sure she had not stopped to rest during the day. In that regard they were the same. They could immerse themselves in work to the exclusion of everything else.

She turned her face into his hand, closed her eyes and nodded slightly. Trip remembered all those times he’d asked if she was fine – knowing she wasn’t – and she’d never admitted it. But now, even though she still denied it, she didn’t bother to hide it. While he moved his thumb tenderly over her cheek, his thoughts returned to the past week’s events – Terra Prime, Elizabeth, the memorial, the investigation, Soval, the Romulans. It was too damned much.

“How do Vulcans grieve?” Trip asked her. She turned and looked at him before answering.

“We meditate.”

“Can I help you, somehow?”

“You’re helping me now” she told him. He smiled back at her sadly.

That’s not what I meant.

“We could meditate together,” T’Pol said in a voice that was almost a whisper.

He nodded. “You’ll have to teach me.”

“I’ll do my best,” was her response. Trip just smirked at her.

T’Pol knew that Trip was as tired as she was, both emotionally and physically, but wasn’t certain what he needed this time to let go of his grief and anger. Her company was soothing for him, as much as his was for her. She knew that.

“Is there anything you would want us to do together?” she asked him, her eyes on his.

Trip’s eyebrows rose, his forehead wrinkled, and he bit his lower lip trying not to show what was the first thought that crossed his mind after hearing her, but he failed miserably. She read him right away and her expression was priceless. He smiled and hurried to speak up before she had a chance to say something.

“Yeah. Will you tell me about the Kirshara?”

Her eyes softened visibly. “I wasn’t aware you were interested in philosophy.”

“Not really, just want to spend time with you,” Trip told her, still smiling teasingly.

He sobered before continuing “And I really want to understand.” He felt her fingers on the side of his face and her thumb touching the underside of his mouth, tracing the thin line of skin between his stubble and his lower lip before she kissed him softly. “I guess we’ve got a plan,” he said into her lips.

“Indeed,” she said.

_______

XVII.-

The taste of the scotch Archer offered him still lingered. Lagavulin was the brand they drank. I’ll have to see if I can get some more of it, Lucas thought. He seldom drank. When he did, it was mostly red wine and the Pisco Sour his wife prepared superbly. His mind drifted back home, and he relived the video call they’d shared earlier. His expression changed and he smiled at his wife’s memory. Tomorrow, he thought.

His eyes settled on the view port in his quarters. Even though space flight was something talked about almost every day on Earth it wasn’t an everyday event for most of the population. He was still amazed at the sight of the stars moving along while Enterprise was on its way to Jupiter. Fifth planet, gas giant, diameter 11 times Earth’s, he recollected the data easily. His extremely accurate memory had always been an asset.

He wondered if the members of Enterprise’s crew were aware that they were making history every day they spent on duty. Had former pioneers known this? he thought. Probably not.

The talk with Archer had gone as he expected. The Captain was anxious and wanted answers. While a one-of-a-kind pilot and captain of the first Warp 5 Starship, the man was not a good interrogator, too honorable and impatient. He doesn’t have the ability to separate himself from the job that has to be done. The emotional charge this man carries must be overwhelming, he thought.

What would their next mission get them into? Would they be able to locate the Chimera? He hoped they did. His instincts told him there was lot more to that ship and its Captain – Bern or whatever was his name – than they suspected. He had decided to inform Archer about anything he found regarding that ship. Maybe Bern was the lead they’d have to follow to get to the Terra Primers in Starfleet. He was certain that whoever had helped Paxton gain access to the DNA for the cloning process was someone from Starfleet’s brass. Massaro’s assignment to Enterprise was not a coincidence.

One of the disadvantages of working in Intelligence was the frustration that chasing shadows produced, at least it was for him. He remembered a saying from his time in the Intel Training programme. “There are no shadows in the dark until you throw some light on them. Just focus on finding the light.”

And the shadows will appear undefined, moving and most of the times deceiving.

Fin

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