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Rating: PG-13, general
Trip climbed the stairs to the 3rd floor. Overhead, he could hear shuffling of feet and muffled voices. 'This must be the right place.' He still did not know what he was going to do once he got there. He just knew that there was an urgency to this rescue attempt. T'Vela had intimated that something was being done to T'pol, and that time was of the essence.
Once at the 3rd floor, he carefully opened the door. He hoped that no one would be positioned to see him sneaking out into the adjoining corridor. Luckily, there was no one around. He advanced along the hall towards the source of light, which was coming from a room on the left.
Suddenly he jumped back behind a shelving unit. Four men came out of the lit room, crossed the corridor and unlocked a door on the other side, before entering.
Trip had recognized all 4 men: Athlon, his 2 friends from the bookstore, and Koss. Anger burned in his face again. 'That must be where they're keeping her.'
Slowly, he crept towards this door. A quick glance into the lit room across from it revealed that it was empty. Trip decided that he would look there first, and maybe find a way to rescue T'pol.
Trip chuckled as he looked down at the table. 'They really aren't that bright.' There was his communicator, as well as a phase pistol. 'T'pol must have smuggled that one in her duffle bag.'
Grabbing the weapon, he headed towards the other door. He had no plans other than to rush in, wave his weapon around threatening everyone, and take T'pol with him. Unfortunately, the door was locked.
He breathed deeply, and muttered, "I guess I will need to come up with a distraction." Looking around, his eyes fell upon an object of interest. 'Well, here it goes.'
T'pol could feel herself fading away. It was like a new person was taking her place. This new woman did want to be with Koss. This new woman did want to go back to Vulcan. This new woman did want to return to the traditions that were entrenched in her culture.
Through the haze, though, a ringing was becoming more and more distinct. She felt the pressure alleviate from her face. She felt some of her old self, amidst the new. Opening her eyes, the sight that she saw was chaotic. A blur of black and grey, punctuated by streaks of light. Shouting voices now replaced the ringing in her ears.
Suddenly she felt herself being pulled up onto her feet. Her whole body was limp, and unable to bear the weight of her body. She was being dragged like a rag doll. Someone had their arm around her waist. He was talking to her. He said the same thing over and over again. "T'pol. You are going to be alright. I promise. You are going to be alright."
Looking up at him, she smiled. "Trip. It is you." Then she lost consciousness.
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