Virtual Season Five

XXXX

Moving Forward

By: Angel

Rating: PG, mild swearing

Genre: General episodic, mild angst (which I promise to resolve in the near future)

Archive: At T/T’Pers, sure

Disclaimer: I don’t own Enterprise, Star Trek, or any of the series characters. This is for entertainment only.

Summary: Episode One of my virtual season five. For the purposes of this fictional season, and my sanity, TATV never happened.

Notes: Well, I haven’t actually finished watching TATV yet. It was so bad, I just had to turn it off, but being the spoiler hound that I am, I already know it sucks. So, I decided to try my hand at writing a virtual season five and ignoring that piece of BB trash. Thanks for listening to my rant!

Please let me know what you think. Feedback is much appreciated.

A cool breeze blew in from the bay to drift across the Starfleet grounds. It rustled the hair of those gathered around a freshly turned patch of earth, but they didn’t seem to notice. Slightly ahead and to the right of everyone else stood Commander T’Pol, wearing her formal Vulcan robes, and Commander Tucker in his Starfleet dress uniform. They didn’t touch, but leaned almost imperceptibly toward each other. Both wore glazed expressions and carried dark circles under their eyes as they listened to the words of Admiral Gardner.

“On behalf of Starfleet, and myself,” he turned briefly to face the couple nearest him as he concluded the service, “our deepest sympathies go out to the family and friends of Elizabeth T’Mir Tucker and her parents. May she rest in peace.”

Slowly but steadily the dignitaries and officials began to depart until only the Enterprise crew and a few select civilians were left beside the new grave. Eventually, even most of them made their way across the open green lawn, but one man silently approached the sullen couple.

“Trip?” Archer began in an almost whisper. “T’Pol?” The Captain started to reach out for his best friends, but pulled himself back when Trip’s eyes turned toward his. The absolute loss behind his deep blue orbs caused Archer to catch his breath. Looking down to avoid facing that pain again, he continued. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ve spoken with Admiral Gardner and we agree. You should both take as much leave time as you need. Stay on Earth; visit your parents, Trip. T’Pol, you could go to Vulcan and visit Mt. Seleya.” He fumbled; seeking the words that would help before realizing there weren’t any. “Whatever you want. Just, take care of yourselves.” The Captain looked them over once again and amended his statement. “Take care of each other.”

The couple’s gaze met briefly before Tucker turned back to his oldest friend. “Thanks, Cap’n, but we’d really rather just get back to Enterprise.”

A puzzled frown crossed Archer’s expression. “Are you sure, Trip? I mean, your parents…”

“My parents are fine, sir. I talked to ‘em again this mornin’.” He released a heavy sigh and tried to relax his face into a gentle smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Really, Jon, it’s okay. Yeah, I was disappointed that they weren’t comin’ to the service,” his voice dropped to a whisper at the last words, “but I understand. It was just too painful for them. They’ve only just started to recover from losing their daughter.” Trip’s eyes looked down to the small rectangle of dark dirt and stayed there; he barely croaked out, “They couldn’t deal with us losing ours, too.”

Throughout this exchange T’Pol had not moved, or even acknowledged the conversation going on around her, but now she looked up at her commanding officer. “I concur, Captain. We would prefer to return to our duties and Enterprise as soon as possible.”

Archer dragged a rough hand over his clean-shaven face before tugging at the collar of his dress uniform. “All right, then, if that’s really what you both want,” he conceded. “Enterprise leaves orbit in 72 hours. I’ll see you onboard in 48,” he shook his head at the imminent protest, “and not one minute before.”

“Aye, sir,” Trip muttered.

T’Pol gave a curt nod.

As the Captain walked away, he looked back over his shoulder once. His slight shock at the scene of his normally reserved Vulcan First Officer leaning heavily on Trip as his shoulders were wracked by deep sobs was quickly replaced by a feeling of relief. “Thank God they have each other,” he thought before continuing down the path toward his transport.

In another star system and on another world, a young Tellarite man stood proudly before his parents. “I’m sorry you feel that way, but this is my decision and one that I’m sticking to!”

“I don’t understand, Grik. How can you even think to serve on a Starfleet vessel? They stink like yesterday’s garbage and as for the humans, well…” his father trailed off as his already piggish nose squished up further at the thought.

At that, his mother burst into tears. “It’s not right, it’s just not right,” she wailed. The older man went to his wife and cuddled her against his round form.

“Now you’ve upset your mother! That’s it; there’ll be no more talk of this Starfleet officer exchange program. You will serve the Tellarite Space Command just as every other male in our family for generations!” He turned to lead his distraught spouse out of the room, but was stopped by the strength emanating from Grik’s throat.

“It’s too late for that, father. Whether you approve or not, I have already volunteered and been accepted for the program by the TSC. I will leave on Enterprise in a few days time.” Grik squared his shoulders and met his father’s steely gaze.

With a heavy sigh, Viat stared at his son as his wife’s cries became louder. “Fine, have it your way, but so long as you wear that..that..uniform don’t come back here. I’ll have no son in Starfleet.” He turned his back once more and led his mate to have a rest.

Archer entered the shuttle-bay as soon as the green light signaled that repressurization was complete. He strode across the platform to greet his friends as they emerged from the fully loaded craft. His gaze darted across the faces of his crew as they returned from their brief visits planet-side in search of the officers that completed his command staff. At last, he saw Tucker’s tired form.

“Welcome back, Trip,” he said gently while glancing over the shoulder of his engineer. “Where’s T’Pol?”

“She’ll be back later today,” he answered as they made their way to the corridor, trailing behind the rest of the recently returned personnel.

A question furrowed the Captain’s brow. “I thought she was with you.”

Trip slung his duffle bag over his shoulder. “Nah, she spent her time at the Vulcan compound. She said she needed to meditate and that she was gonna try to meet up with Soval.” The disappointment echoed through Trip’s words.

“You don’t sound too happy about that,” Archer commented.

The duo stopped and turned to face each other. Trip looked around quickly to confirm that they were now alone in the passageway. He pulled a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, I guess I just figured she’d want to be with me, ya know? I sure as hell woulda preferred bein’ with her. I thought we could help each other get through this thin’ better than anyone else, but instead she stayed in that damned compound and I couldn’t even get in to see her.”

“I’m sorry, Trip.” The regret was sincere as the Captain went on. “I’m sure she just needed some time to herself.”

Tucker nodded absently. “Yeah, I know.” He looked down the hallway and gestured vaguely with his thumb. “I better get unpacked, Cap’n. I’ll see ya later.”

“Of course.” He debated whether to go on, but decided he would. “If you’re feeling up to it, there’s a gathering in the Captain’s Mess tonight, 1800, for Travis.”

“Travis?” Tucker questioned.

“He’s been transferred to Earth, along with a shiny new promotion. He’ll be teaching at the academy.” Archer allowed a little bit of pride to show through as he explained.

Both of Trip’s eyebrows went up and a genuine smile softly turned up his lips. “I’ll do my best to be there, sir.”

Captain’s Personal Log:

“We’re on-route to Tellar to pick up our new helmsman. He’s part of the new officer exchange program; to be honest, I’m not sure how I feel about having a Tellarite on my bridge, but Starfleet says we’re starting down the path to a true partnership with our stellar neighbors and this is the first step.” Archer paused as he took a deep swallow of his bourbon. The amber liquid warmed him through while he considered how to continue.

“On a more personal note, I’m very concerned for my friends. Trip and T’Pol are back on duty, and while I can’t fault their performance, they seem to be shadows of their former selves. I had hoped they would pull together to cope with the loss of Elizabeth, but it seems as if they’re more distant than ever.”

The Captain depressed the toggle to end recording before he slammed back the last of his drink. Rising slowly from the small desk, he called for Porthos. “Come on, boy. Let’s take a short walk before bed.”

The happy beagle didn’t have to be told twice. He was anxiously waiting at the door before Archer finished standing.

Cold sweat covered his body from head to toe as he struggled to free himself from an imaginary foe. The sheets wrapped around his form mercilessly while he twisted repeatedly from side to side. In one final gesture of futility, he flung himself wildly across the bed and landed hard on the floor.

“Damn!” Trip swore as he woke up on impact with the surface. He thought back to the nightmare that had plagued him since his return to Enterprise. Closing his eyes in concentration, he visualized the image of T’Pol sitting in her white space.

He approached her cautiously, reaching tenderly out to her. Suddenly, her eyes shot open and her face filled with fear. “No! Don’t touch me!” Standing, she turned and ran away.

At first, he hesitated but then he followed. Soon they left the white space to be surrounded by an ever-increasing darkness until finally Trip felt the oppressive black physically pressing in on him. He struggled for breath while at the same time trying to find T’Pol.

His lungs worked hard sucking the air in. Idly he wondered if this is what drowning must feel like when he began to feel light-headed. His hands groped out wildly, reaching for T’Pol even though he could no longer see her or even sense her presence. At last the need for oxygen overwhelmed him and a sense of self-preservation kicked in, forcing him to thrust his body back toward where the white space had been in one violent motion.

And that’s when he awoke on the floor. With a heavy sigh, he dragged himself back up to the bed. “That’s it! I’m gonna make that woman talk to me, whether she likes it or not!”

Lieutenant Reed stood beside Captain Archer outside the airlock. “I don’t know, sir. It’s going to be a difficult adjustment.”

Archer shot the Englishman a look of understanding. “That’s what we do best, Malcolm. We adapt to the new and different. That’s what we’re out here for.”

“Aye, sir,” Reed replied with a tiny bit of skepticism leaking through.

The airlock hissed softly as the pressure equalized. When the seals opened and the door slid aside, it revealed a pudgy, pig-snouted Tellarite wearing a Starfleet jumpsuit carrying the rank of ensign. He looked up sharply at his new commander.

“Captain Archer. Ensign Grik reporting for duty. Permission to come aboard?” His shoulders pulled back tightly at the closest approximation of attention that his physical shape would allow.

Reed and Archer shared a look of confusion over the head of their newest officer before the Captain addressed him. “Permission granted, Ensign. At ease and welcome to Enterprise.” He gestured toward Malcolm. “This is Lieutenant Reed. He’ll show you to your quarters and help you get settled in.”

“Thank you, sir. I look forward to serving with such a distinguished group of officers.”

The Captain and chief of security gave each other another look of surprise as Archer broke off from the small group to make his way back to the bridge.

“So, tell me, what’s he like?” Hoshi asked before plunging her forkful of salad into her mouth.

Malcolm looked thoughtful for a moment then he just shook his head. “I really don’t know. He’s not like any Tellarite we’ve met before.”

She chewed rapidly and swallowed hard. “How so?”

“You really like to be in the know, don’t you?” Reed laughed. Her eyes widened and her brows went up in feigned shock. “All right,” he continued, “for one thing he was very polite. His respect for the Captain seemed genuine and he didn’t insult me once in the whole hour I spent briefing him.”

Hoshi cocked her head sideways as she contemplated this news. “I can hardly wait to meet him.”

Across the mess hall T’Pol sat staring out the window in distraction while her tea grew cold.

“Mind if I join you?” Trip asked, causing her to almost jump in surprise.

“I did not hear you approach,” she replied softly.

He nodded. “That doesn’t answer my question,” he said.

She rose and gathered up her teacup. “Actually, I was just about to return to my quarters.”

“Even better. I’ll join you.” It was a statement, not a request and she acknowledged the difference with a raised eyebrow.

“Very well then.”

They walked silently to her cabin. She opened the door and Trip followed her inside without a word.

“Now that you are here, what can I do for you, Commander?” she asked when they were finally alone.

Trip moved across the room and stood gazing out at the passing stars. “So, we’re back to ‘Commander’. I might’ve known.”

A slight hiss of exasperation escaped her lips as she clasped her hands behind her. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Of course you don’t,” he said as he moved quickly to stand directly in front of her. He wanted to reach out and shake some sense into her, but knew that would accomplish nothing. “Just like you don’t know about my nightmares? Wanna tell me why every time I get close to you, you run away? And what’s with the blackness where I can’t even breathe?”

She lowered her eyes as a wave of guilt passed through her. “I am sorry,” she squeaked out in a small voice.

Suddenly, he felt like a total heel for making her deal with him right now. Gently, he reached out to place a finger under her chin and tilt her head up. As soon he touched her though, she pulled back sharply. Her eyes met his in a wild, animalistic haze.

“Dammit, T’Pol! What’s goin’ on!?” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Why are you shutting me out?” His voice became a whisper, “Let me help you.”

“I don’t need help,” she growled between clenched teeth. “Now please go.” She stood aside to allow him access to the doorway.

Trip walked slowly toward the hatch, but paused before he opened it. As he turned back to face her, she could see the unshed tears glisten brightly in his eyes. “Fine, you don’t need my help,” his voice was gravelly with emotion, “but did you ever think that maybe I need yours?” The door opened and he left her alone.

Grik imagined that no Tellarite had ever been happier. He could hardly wait to start his first duty shift at the helm of Enterprise, so he arrived on the bridge more than ten minutes early. He paced eagerly along the back walkway, mentally ticking off the seconds until he would finally sit in the front chair and guide the massive ship along her way through the stars.

Captain Archer emerged from his ready room, cup of coffee in hand, and smiled to himself at the excited young man – no, make that Tellar, he corrected himself. It had been too long since anyone on the bridge had been that cheerful. Sparing a quick glance at the ship’s chronometer, he decided the poor ensign had suffered long enough.

“Okay, Ensign Michaels,” he called to the man currently seated at the helm. “Call it a day. It’s just a few extra minutes, but maybe it’ll be enough for you to get first choice in the galley.”

Turning in his seat, the tall red-headed officer smiled at the Captain. “Aye, sir. And thanks!” He made a hasty retreat for the turbolift, sparing a quick wink at Grik as he passed by.

When the Tellarite didn’t proceed immediately to his post, the Captain turned his chair around. The previously excited ensign now appeared shocked and more than a little frightened. Laughing, Archer said, “Well, come on, Ensign Grik. The ship’s not going to fly herself!”

Grik looked anxiously around the bridge and met the smiling faces of most of the senior staff; T’Pol merely raised an eyebrow in response. He moved cautiously forward, his pace increasing as he got nearer the helm. At last, he took the seat vacated moments before by Ensign Michaels and ran his hands appreciatively over the control panel. As he relaxed into the chair, applause rang out through the command center.

“All right, people,” Archer said with a smile, “back to work. I believe, Mr. Grik, that that is their way of saying ‘welcome to the bridge’.”

“Thank you, sir.” Grik was now certain that no Tellarite had ever been happier.

Trip sat on his bunk, arms resting on his thighs as he held his head in his hands. His shoulders heaved softly as silent sobs were pulled from his chest. He’d never cried so much in his life, but even after days of it, still didn’t feel like he could stop.

The sound of the door chime forced the engineer to pull himself together. He swiped the fresh tears from his cheeks and called out, “Come in,” as he stood to face his visitor.

T’Pol looked frail as she entered Trip’s quarters. She met his eyes and he could see the green rims around her almond shaped orbs that indicated she’d been crying as well. “Trip, may we speak?”

End Episode One

The Hounds of War

By: Angel Koerkel

Disclaimers: I don’t own Enterprise, Star Trek, or any of the series characters. This is for entertainment only.

Genre: Episodic

Rating: PG, mild swearing

Archive: FF.N and T/T’Pers

Summary: Episode Two of Virtual Season Five. Enterprise responds to a distress call from an isolationist planet.

Notes: Thanks for all the positive feedback to Moving Forward! In answer to some of the questions I received: yes, this will be (hopefully) a virtual season, or more accurately a mini-season. Probably around a half-dozen episodes or so. I am more than open to anyone who wants to collaborate, perhaps writing their own episode. Please contact me privately if you’re interested at: phased energy blast rocked the very foundation of the building. Sha’rol felt it shake as she crawled across the floor. Broken glass and rubble imbedded in her delicate palms and knees, but she ignored the pain. It was nothing compared to the ache coming from the side of her head anyway. Reaching up, she swiped her arm across her eyes to clear the thick, pink blood that settled there.

Another explosion shook the world and caused Sha’rol to fall flat onto her stomach. Moaning softly, she pulled herself back up once the building stopped moving. She resumed her painstakingly slow movement. ‘Almost there,’ she thought. ‘Just a little further.’

At last, her hand reached up and grasped the counter. She dragged herself up to standing. Looking over the panel, she grew angry. Furiously, she began banging on the darkened controls. “NO!” she yelled. “It can’t be!”

She’d known that there was little chance the communications relay would still be functional, but had managed to convince herself that if she could just get there, it would be okay. Now she was faced with the reality of not being able to call for help.

Regaining her temper, she set about trying to jury-rig the panel just long enough to get a message out. It took her nearly an hour, with the building threatening to collapse the entire time, but finally she’d done it. She looked over the quick work one last time before hitting the record button.

“This is Ramy Four. We need help. We are under attack by an unknown alien vessel. We are peaceful people and our planet is defenseless. Please hurry.”

With the message complete, Sha’rol depressed the transmit key and then slumped down to the floor. She’d barely made contact with the surface before the walls began to shake again. Closing her eyes, she didn’t see the ceiling crash down upon her, sending the entire building plummeting to the planet’s surface.

XXXX

“Trip, may we speak?” The words were barely a whisper, but he heard them loud and clear.

T’Pol’s eyes met Tucker’s as they faced each other across the small space. He raised his hand to her hesitantly and waited anxiously until she reached out and clasped it firmly. They pulled together and their bodies met.

Almost instantly, Trip began stroking her hair as she clasped his back tighter. “I’m so sorry, darlin’,” he muttered against her chestnut locks. She pulled back slightly to look into his face.

“Why are you apologizing?” she asked as her pain lessened in the comfort of his embrace.

Taking a deep breath, he began. “I’m sorry for making you feel like you owed me something. I’m sorry for being too weak to be strong for you.” He bowed his head. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save her.”

She placed her finger under his chin and raised his eyes to hers once again. “That is the most illogical thing you have ever said.” He actually smiled at her gentle teasing. “Trip, you are the strongest man I know. And, I do owe you something, myself. As for the rest,” she paused as they stared at each other with fresh pain in their hearts. “No one could have saved her.”

They separated slightly as they both breathed deeply, calming the rising tide of emotions. “It is I who owe you an apology. The past year has been…difficult for me. First, we lost Lorian. Then there was my mockery of a marriage and the loss of my mother. When Elizabeth died as well, I did not know how to control the pain any longer, but now I know what I – we - need.” She met his gaze with her own and continued, “I have been selfish with my sorrow. If you will allow me, I would appreciate it if we could help each other through this difficult time.”

In answer, he drew her tight against him once more.

Xxxxx

Enterprise cruised along at a comfortable warp 2.7, finally resuming her long-stalled mission of exploration. Captain Archer sat back in his command chair, reviewing the daily reports of half a dozen department heads. As he chuckled softly at some comment, Hoshi captured his attention.

“Captain?” she said. “We’re receiving a signal. Audio only, it’s a recorded message.”

“Let’s hear it,” he answered, instantly alert.

A sharp hiss, followed by crackling static, cried out over the speaker system. Sato pressed a few buttons and turned a dial as the sound cleared up enough to make out a voice between the pops and hisses.

“Need help….attack….unknown….planet…defenseless….hurry.”

“That’s all I can get, sir,” the communications officer offered.

Nodding in understanding, Archer turned to her. “Who’s it from? Do we have a location?”

“It’s coming from a planet in the Ramy system.”

T’Pol spoke up for the first time as she looked into her viewer, consulting her computer. “Confirmed sir. Ramy Four is a Minshara class planet. Vulcan encountered them nearly two centuries ago, but the population was isolationistic and did not desire further contact. They are warp capable, but use their technology only for exploration close to their home planet.”

“All right, well now they’re asking for help.” Archer paced the length of the bridge, stopping behind the helmsman. “Ensign Grik, set a course for Ramy. Warp 5.”

XXXX

The senior staff was gathered around the conference table, listening to the recorded distress call. As the message completed, Hoshi shut it off.

“That’s all we know,” the Captain said. “We should arrive at Ramy Four within,” he looked to T’Pol.

“Two days, ten hours, twenty-two minutes, sir.”

“Two and a half days,” Archer continued with a smile toward his first officer. Turning serious again, he continued, “I expect all departments at top efficiency. We don’t know what we’ll find when we get there. It may be a rescue mission for survivors; it may be a defensive mission against their attacker. We need to be ready for anything.” He met the experienced gazes of his crew around the table and was filled with a sense of pride. They would be prepared for whatever this mission held. “Dismissed.”

As the room quickly emptied, the Captain called out, “Trip? Would you stay a minute?”

A puzzled frown crossed the Engineer’s face, but he remained and moved closer to his commanding officer and friend.

When everyone else had gone, he turned toward him. “Yes, Cap’n?”

“How are you?” Archer waved off the pat answer he was about to receive. “I mean, really. How are you? How’s T’Pol?” He paused while he debated within himself whether to continue before deciding to go on. “You know, as Captain, I’m supposed to discourage fraternization. But, as your friend,” he trailed off, suddenly not sure how to finish the thought.

With a heavy sigh, Trip pulled a hand through his hair. “I’m not gonna lie to you, it’s been rough. But, it’s getting better, a little bit every day. Me and T’Pol, well, we’re finally starting to help each other.” He looked at his long-time friend. “Thanks for asking.”

XXXX

Commander Tucker entered the mess hall followed by T’Pol. Together they went to gather up their meals. As she placed a small salad on her tray and started to turn away, Trip placed his hand firmly on her arm and pulled her back to the food counter. Their voices were too low to be heard, but his face appeared irritated.

“I can’t believe that!” Grik said softly to Lieutenant Reed as they watched the scene from their table.

“What?” Reed asked.

Looking sideways toward his companion, the young Tellarite officer whispered excitedly, “That! He touched her arm! I thought Vulcans hated to be touched.”

Smiling, Reed resumed his eating as if nothing had happened. “Yes, well, Commanders T’Pol and Tucker are very close.”

Grik’s snout crinkled in what Reed had come to recognize as a look of doubt or question. “I don’t understand, sir.”

“Sometimes, even the staunchest of preconceptions needs to be challenged, Ensign.” Reed smirked at the young officer.

At their table in the corner, Tucker prepared to dig into his meat and potato dinner as T’Pol picked daintily at the greens scattered around her plate. “I still say you needed to take more food, T’Pol,” he admonished.

“I appreciate your concern, Commander; however, my salad is sufficient to meet my nutritional needs today.” Her reply would’ve seemed curt to anyone listening, but Trip felt her sincere gratitude at his care. Their relationship had remained as undefined as ever, but he could still feel the gentle swell of emotion along the bond they shared.

A jolt of frustration flared within him as he thought of the ambiguous nature of their relationship, but he squelched it quickly. There would time for them later, when they were healed.

XXXX

Hoshi Sato sat hunched over her communications console. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she replayed the distress call repeatedly, each time trying different combinations of algorithms hoping for a clearer message, more details, anything that might help them prepare. Lost as she was in her world of mathematics and sound waves, she didn’t notice the set of eyes resting on her back.

Jonathan Archer tried not to stare at the bent figure of his communications officer. It wasn’t easy. Sure, he’d noticed she was an attractive woman before, but lately, after everything that had happened with Trip and T’Pol, something was different. Gradually, he’d found that he thought of the lovely Ensign more and more often. ‘Ensign,’ he thought as he shook himself out of his reverie. ‘No matter how beautiful she is, no matter how intelligent, kind, caring, adventurous, no matter any of it. She’s an ensign! On your ship, Jon!’ he reminded himself with a sharp mental slap.

A questioning tap on the shoulder brought the Captain back to the present reality. Looking up, he saw the broad smile of Dr. Phlox. “Ah, Captain, I’m sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to bring you my departmental status report before going to dinner.”

“That’s fine, Doctor. Thank you,” he said taking the proffered padd. Rising, he headed toward the turbolift with the Denobulan physician. “Dinner sounds like a great idea. Mind if I join you?”

XXXX

Lieutenant Reed watched over his console as he adjusted the controls for the phase cannons. A power spike registered as he flipped the input switch, but with a practiced hand he returned the flow to its proper readings.

Across the bridge, Archer paced. Pausing at the railing nearest Hoshi, he asked, “Anything yet, Ensign?”

“No, sir. Still nothing.”

As he was about to resume his aimless walk, T’Pol spoke up. “Captain? I’m reading an energy surge. It’s located at the coordinates for Ramy Four, sir. We should be arriving there momentarily.”

Nodding, Archer went to his seat. “Keep monitoring, T’Pol. Any other ships around? Any idea what the energy surge is?”

“There are no other ships present,” she answered, bowed over her viewer so that her face was softly illuminated. “The energy reading seems to be coming from the planet’s surface.”

Enterprise glided into a high orbit as she completed her scans. “Life signs?” the Captain asked.

Looking up, T’Pol answered, “None, sir.” Her tone was soft, almost regretful.

He stared at her intensely, not daring to believe what he’d heard. “None? How is that possible? According to our records in the Vulcan database, this planet had a population of millions.”

“Unknown, Captain. The energy picked up by sensors appears to be a residual fluctuation from a massive weapon.”

“All right, Reed,” the Captain turned to face his Armory Officer, “you’re with me and get a MACO, too.” Now Archer toggled a switch on his chair. “Archer to Engineering. Trip? You there?”

“Yes, Cap’n?” the disembodied voice floated up from the speaker near Archer’s hand.

“Trip, meet me in the shuttle bay.”

“On my way, sir.” An audible click disconnected the channel.

“T’Pol, you have the bridge.” Archer strode purposefully to the turbolift, followed closely by Reed.

XXXX

A short time later, the Enterprise team was walking sadly along what had obviously been a major thoroughfare. Their radiation suits shone brightly in the afternoon sun. They stepped carefully around the bodies lying haphazardly all over the path.

“According to the Vulcan database, this was the capital city.” Archer shook his head solemnly. “What could have caused this?”

“I don’t know, sir, but I don’t think the radiation was the only culprit.” Tucker pointed ahead toward where the road ended in what had been an ornately decorated circular pathway. At the farthest point, a mountain of rubble lay.

“That would’ve been the capital building,” Reed said. Even with his fondness for blowing things up, the weapons expert felt nauseated by the destruction that surrounded them.

Archer nodded in reluctant acceptance. “Okay, let’s see if we can find out what happened here. Trip, you head over that way,” he indicated what appeared to be another government building lining the street and the MACO walking with them. “Take Corporal Tomlinson with you, and see if you can find a computer, some kind of recording, anything that might give us a clue. Reed, you’re with me.” With that, the small group separated.

XXXX

Several hours later, Trip stared at his reflection. His door chime sounded abruptly and he wrapped a towel around his lower half before calling out, “Come in.”

T’Pol walked majestically into the small room. She sized up the engineer in one quick motion. Sensing his need, she approached and reached out to him. She placed her hand along his cheek and drew his face gently to her. “How are you, Trip?” Her whispered tone was like a verbal caress.

He rested his forehead against hers and sighed. “I’ve seen some horrible things since we launched Enterprise,” he began, “but nothing like that. An entire planet, dead.” He closed his eyes and just breathed.

She doubted he realized it, but his practice of the Vulcan breathing techniques was nearly perfect. As she watched, they had the desired effect and he began to visibly calm. “I am sorry you had to witness that. Can I help?”

“You already have.” His answer was sincere and he pulled her body closer until they were in direct contact. Holding her close, he breathed in her scent, one of exotic spices and an earthy goodness that left him longing for more. At last though, he knew it had to end. “I should probably get dressed. Captain gave us a half hour to clean up, but I really need to report back in so we can get busy finding whoever did this.”

The briefest of nods escaped her. “Agreed. We have been scanning the planet and atmosphere systematically. So far, we have no new information, but something may be forthcoming.” Pulling back slightly, she released her hold on him. “I will see you on the bridge.”

As she left his quarters, Trip realized he felt renewed like he would not have thought possible just a few moments ago. Shaking his head, he dropped his towel and grabbed up a clean uniform.

XXXX

Archer had barely cleared the lift doors when T’Pol looked up. “Sir, I may have found something.” She manipulated the control panel once more and looked again at the display before her.

The Captain had come to stand over her shoulder, anxiously awaiting some news. “Well?” he questioned impatiently.

“It seems that we have found traces of a warp signature. It’s faded and partially hidden by atmospheric dispersal, but it is definitely there.” She continued refining her scans as she narrowed in on the signal.

“Can you tell what kind of ship made it?”

She looked up and met his eyes. “It’s Romulan, sir.”

His anger exploded within him like some massive weapon. “Can we follow it?” he ground out through clenched teeth.

“No. The traces have faded too much for that. However, it seems to have headed back toward Romulan space.”

Fighting to regain control, he nodded in understanding. “Ensign Sato, place a warning buoy around the planet. Then, get me Admiral Gardner.” Breathing deeply, he turned toward the helm. “Ensign Grik, maintain orbit for now, but set a course back to Earth, be ready to engage it at my command.”

“Aye, sir,” the Tellarite answered shakily. He’d never seen an angry human before and he wasn’t so sure that he liked it. For all of his father’s bluster about the weakness of this race, he thought that right now, this particular human, would rip anyone to shreds that dared to get in his way, including a Tellarite.

XXXX

His computer console bleeped as he made yet another pass around his ready room. He covered the distance to it in two large steps. Depressing the button harder than he needed to, he said, “Yes, Hoshi?”

“I’ve got Admiral Gardner for you, sir.”

“Put him through,” Archer said as he forced himself to sit.

The weathered face of the admiral appeared quickly on the screen. “Well, Jon? What’s the situation at Ramy Four?”

“Romulans, sir. The planet is devastated, no survivors. We can’t track their warp signature, but T’Pol assures me they were headed back toward their home space.” His answer was concise, but complete.

“Dammit, Jon.” The admiral drew a hand across his face in a weary gesture.

Sitting back slightly in his chair, Archer continued. “We’ve placed a warning buoy in orbit. The planet is an ocean of radiation, not to mention the bodies. God, it was awful.” For just a moment, he seemed to see with an inner eye, but quickly he shook his head as if to clear it of an unpleasant image.

“All right, head back here. Negotiations are going well. We don’t want any of the delegates to find out about this and panic.” He paused while he considered what to do.

Archer looked ready to dispute that order, even though he’d already told Grik to set a course, he wasn’t ready to head back yet.

“Just come home for now. Enterprise can serve as host ship for traveling delegates for a while. Let Columbia handle the dirty work, you guys are too high profile.”

“Aye, sir,” the Captain conceded as Gardner closed out the channel.

XXXX

Trip and T’Pol sat as mirror images of each other, cross-legged in front of a dancing flame with closed eyes, but each in their own quarters. As they breathed in and out, first deeply then more shallowly, each of them drifted into a trance-like state.

At once, Trip found himself surrounded by the white space of T’Pol’s mind. He approached her as she rose from her seated position. Smiling softly, he reached out to her. She entered the circle of his arms without hesitation.

“God, do I need to hold you,” he mumbled into her hair.

“And I you,” she whispered in response.

XXXX

End Episode Two

Lies of Omission

By: Angel Koerkel

Genre: Episodic

Rating: PG

Summary: Third episode of my virtual season five.

Disclaimers: I don’t own Enterprise, and I’m not making any money off this.

Notes: Sorry this took so long. It’s been crazy around here lately! Hope you enjoy, and remember, feedback! Lots and lots of feedback!

XXXX

“Hello Mother, Father. It has been an interesting few weeks on Enterprise. We’ve been in orbit around Earth now for twenty days. So far, we’ve hosted five diplomatic dinners, given nearly two dozen official tours of the ship, and the senior staff has been invited to speak at three separate conferences for Starfleet.” Grik paused for a moment.

He sighed as he imagined the response his letter was likely to receive and wondered again why he was bothering to compose it when it probably would go straight into the delete file without ever being opened. But some part of him wanted to believe that his parents were reading his letters, even if they never responded.

“All is well with me. I have adjusted to life on-board a starship and find it feels like home already.” Pausing again, he looked at the chronometer flashing at him from the corner of his computer monitor. “I’m due on duty soon. Be well. Your son, Grik.”

As the young officer signed off, the hatchway opened and a tall dark-haired man entered. “Hey, Grikster!” he announced jovially. “How goes bridge duty?” The man walked casually over to the second bunk in the room and plopped down to pull off his boots as he talked.

A bright smile lit up the Tellarite’s face. “Hello Tommy. It’s good; in fact, I need to be going or I’ll be late!” Jumping up, the pig-faced pilot grabbed his data padd and waved goodbye to his roommate.

XXXX

Clouds swirled in the late winter sky over San Francisco. That was okay with Samuels though, they matched his mood. He pondered the cold wind and gray atmosphere as he walked to his apartment after another long day of negotiations. ‘Never, in my wildest dreams did I imagine that more time would be spent arguing over the temperature of the conference room than in actual alliance talks! It’s too cold for the Vulcans, too hot for the Andorians, and the Tellarites don’t care what the temperature is, but the lighting level is all wrong!’

He kicked aimlessly at the ground as he walked, growling softly in frustration. ‘How are we ever supposed to reach any kind of long-lasting agreements if we can’t even compromise on the damned facilities!’

Turning a corner, Nathan Samuels was surprised when he nearly bumped into a group of three men headed the opposite direction. Without looking up, he offered the best manners he could scrounge up at the moment and mumbled a, “Sorry,” before attempting to circle around the trio.

However, as the Earth diplomat maneuvered to the side, so did the other men, effectively blocking his path. This time he looked up to meet their gazes. Now a primal fear ran down his spine as he noticed the men all wore cloaks that hid their faces. “Um, excuse me, gentlemen,” he tried as he shifted back in another attempt to pass them.

Swiftly, the group surrounded him and began to tighten the circle they’d formed. Deep inside Samuels felt panic start to rise up in his chest, but his politician’s brain kept looking for another way out. “What do you want? I’m a very powerful man. I can get you almost anything.” He held his hands up in a gesture of backing off as he turned in place to face each of the men in turn.

Without having uttered a word, the men advanced on him. Somewhere in the darkness, a muffled scream was heard.

XXXX

Sweat poured off of Trip’s forehead as he grunted with exertion. His partner was in a similar situation. As the pair moved together their breath came heavy and fast. Finally, seizing the moment, Trip reached out and grasped her arm. Swinging hard over his shoulder, she was thrown to the mat and he was declared the victor of the round.

A slight ‘oomph’ escaped her lips as T’Pol landed flat on her back. Looking up into her opponent’s eyes, she smiled inwardly at the mirth she found there. “Your technique has improved considerably. In fact,” she continued as she rose up from the undignified position he had left her in, “you seem to be enjoying your success a little more than is necessary.”

He laughed aloud at her discomfort. “Thanks. I’ve kept up practicing with the MACO’s and you’re right. I did enjoy that!”

She had turned away from him slightly before hearing the MACO comment, at which she immediately faced him again. She remembered watching him work out with one MACO in particular and the feelings that exercise had evoked. A small scowl crossed her features before she schooled them back into their normally stoic appearance.

Whether from the scowl or from the emotions flooding across their bond, Trip picked up her sudden mood change. Again he laughed, although softer this time. He leaned in closer to her so that only she would hear him in the crowded gymnasium. “What’s wrong, darlin’? Jealous?” He shook his head and smirked. “No need to be. I’ve limited myself to sparring with only males, other than you, of course. But if it’ll make ya’ feel better, I’d be happy to slap your…” he said as his eyes slid down over her curves to land on the softly rounded area just below her hips.

“That will not be necessary, Commander,” she interrupted in clipped tones before he could complete the thought. She turned away from him again to pick up a towel from the nearby bench. As she hid her face deep in the terrycloth, she allowed herself a full smile.

XXXX

Captain Archer sat back in his chair on the bridge of the Enterprise. He sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that hour as the boredom of their most recent assignment wore at his patience for the twentieth straight day.

Intellectually, he understood the need to bring them home right now. The galaxy was a hotbed of political unrest and while Enterprise was Starfleet’s flagship, she was also very high profile and had been involved in way too much controversy lately. She needed a break. Her captain, however, felt penned in.

As he pushed himself up to pace the bridge yet again, Hoshi suddenly looked up. “Captain, Admiral Gardner for you. It’s urgent, sir.”

XXXX

The first thing that Trip noticed about his friend’s appearance was the drawn, tired expression he wore. Next was the heavy hunch to his shoulders. Obviously this was a man under a great deal of stress. Odd, since only a short time ago the same man was bored stiff to be commanding a ship that seemed to be endlessly orbiting her home planet.

As the senior staff filed in and took their customary seats around the conference table to be briefed on a recent communication from Starfleet, T’Pol caught Trip’s eye and they shared a questioning glance toward the Captain. He shrugged his shoulders almost imperceptibly and she felt a rush of concern aimed at their commander flood across the bond. They moved to take their seats, side by side, so that the briefing could begin.

“I’ll get straight to the point,” Archer began seconds later. “I just received word from Admiral Gardner that Earth’s ambassador to the coalition conference, Nathan Samuels, has been kidnapped.” Shocked looks quickly circulated around the table accompanied by a raised Vulcan eyebrow.

Frustrated, the Captain dropped down into his chair at the head of the table. “Starfleet received a copy of a message sent to Earth’s government demanding that the conference be halted and that all aliens be removed from the planet within forty-eight hours or Samuels will be killed.”

“It’s must be Terra Prime, sir,” Reed offered. “After all, it’s not as if they haven’t made their feelings on the issue clear. This is just another tactic.” He cast a downward glance toward Tucker and T’Pol with his last statement.

Archer raised his gaze to meet his best friend’s and his first officer’s. The look of pain evident in Trip’s eyes was almost as fresh as it had been the day of Elizabeth’s funeral. “That was Starfleet’s first thought, too, Lieutenant. However, they don’t believe that’s the case this time.” He paused for a moment as he took a deep, steadying breath. “Evidence of a Romulan phase weapon discharge was uncovered at the location they think Samuels was taken from.”

XXXX

The doors to sickbay opened with a soft whoosh several hours after the briefing ended. Before they had re-closed, Phlox emerged from his office to see who had come to call at this time of the night. “Ah, Commander Tucker,” he started with his usual broad smile firmly in place. “What can I do for you this evening?”

“Hey, Doc,” the engineer began as he looked bashfully down at the deck plating. “Got anything to help me sleep?”

The physician gave the young man a good look and noticed his haggard appearance, the wrinkled t-shirt and bare feet under loose fitting sweatpants. He raised an eyebrow in question. “I thought you used meditation with T’Pol to aid in sleeplessness these days, along with neuropressure when needed of course.”

Sighing, Trip met his friend’s gaze. “Yeah, well, let’s just say I didn’t feel like sharing the reason I’m having trouble sleeping tonight with her.”

Now a look of concern crossed the Denobulan’s features. “Would you like to tell me the problem?”

“Not really, but you probably aren’t going to let me be until I do, are you?” Knowing he had little choice, Trip inwardly admitted that he did want to tell someone, and who better than Phlox, under doctor-patient privilege of course. “This is just between us, right, Doc?” At the nod from his doctor, Tucker went on.

“I couldn’t relax tonight because I’ve been feeling guilty ever since that meeting with the Captain about Samuels. See, I hadn’t even realized it until Malcolm mentioned Terra Prime, but it’s been a few days since I thought about Elizabeth.” He hung his head low in shame. “I mean, it’s been over a month now since the funeral and I guess I just got comfortable with my life again and almost happy even. Then, Mal brought up those bastards and my world came crashing down all over again, but this time it seemed worse cause I hadn’t even realized that she hasn’t been in my thoughts lately.”

Tucker looked up expecting to see a look of mortification on the face of his friend, what he found was calm understanding. He trudged on. “So, now I feel guilty for not thinking of her enough and I feel like I got caught with my britches down for it. Plus, the one person I usually go to when I feel like crap I can’t talk to cause it’d just hurt her to know that I’ve been neglecting our daughter’s memory. Does any of this make sense?”

Phlox laughed softly and placed a caring hand on Trip’s shoulder. “You make yourself miserable, Commander. It is perfectly normal to begin to move on with your life. I daresay that Elizabeth’s life is enhanced by your willingness to continue living. So, there’s no reason to feel guilty for being happy. As for discussing this with T’Pol, you may find that she is in a similar state, only even more confused than you are by it since she has had much less acceptance of emotions like guilt in her life.”

He paused as he walked over to a cabinet and slid back the glass panel door. Reaching in, he retrieved a small bottle and brought it back to his friend. “Here, you can take two of these for tonight, but no more.” Trip furrowed his eyebrows and pursed his lips as he reached for the tablets. “Talk to her, Commander. Help each other through this as you have the past weeks. I think you’ll find that grieving and recovering from the loss of your child is going to be an ongoing, life-long process that never completely goes away. You must cling to each other on the difficult days as much as you enjoy each other on the pleasant days.”

Nodding hesitantly, Trip took the pills. “Thanks, Doc. I’ll see her tomorrow. Promise.”

XXXX

Samuels woke up in pain. He couldn’t pinpoint where on his body hurt. It just hurt everywhere, like when you have the flu and every joint and muscle aches, only ten times worse. He tried to open his eyes, only to discover that he’d been blindfolded. His mouth was dry and tasted terrible, but at least he wasn’t gagged. “Hey! Is there anybody there?”

“Shut up, human.” A gruff voice echoed around him. The low hum of machinery filled up the background noise and a steady vibration rumbled through the ground.

“Do you know who you’re dealing with? I’m Nathan Samuels, Earth Ambassador…”

A swift backhand across the mouth effectively stopped his speech. “Of course we know who you are. Do you think we randomly kidnap humans off the street?” Now a low whisper against his ear maintained his silence, “Now, you will do as you’re told, or you will die.”

XXXX

Reed walked briskly along the cold streets of San Francisco. He was headed toward Starfleet Command to be brought up to date on the investigation, but he wanted to take the long way. He’d started at Samuels’ apartment to trace the route the older man would’ve taken home in reverse.

When he came upon the kidnap site, it was guarded by armed personnel from Starfleet, MACO’s, and Earth’s government. He approached confidently and nodded cordially to the officer in command. “Lieutenant Reed, Enterprise.” His greeting was succinct, but all that was necessary. The officer moved aside and let him into the roped off area.

The Englishman didn’t expect to find anything new, but sometimes just being in a place where a crime had occurred caused ideas to form. He cast his eyes around, the surrounding area was untouched. There didn’t seem to have been a struggle at all.

Finally accepting that he wouldn’t learn anything here, he continued on his way to Command. As he reached his destination, he noticed a group of the delegates standing along the walkway in deep discussion. There were several Andorians, a few Tellarites, and seemingly the entire Vulcan party.

“It would be illogical for the kidnappers to return Mr. Samuels,” Soval was saying as Reed came closer.

“Not everyone uses logic to determine their actions, Soval,” came the response from Ambassador Thoris of the Andorian delegation. “Kidnapping is not a logical means to achieve a desired outcome.”

The Tellarite Ambassador spoke up, “I don’t care about logic or emotions, Samuels has been a fine spokesman for our meetings, despite being human, and I for one want to see his safe return!”

“Agreed,” Soval responded. “The Vulcan government stands ready to assist Earth in any way to see to it.”

Thoris nodded enthusiastically, “As does that of Andoria.”

“Good, then we are in agreement. Our governments will offer services to Earth’s leaders,” Vego, the Tellarite concluded as Reed passed by the unlikely grouping. He shook his head at the aliens and thought of the irony that they should finally agree on something and kidnapping and murder threats are all it took to motivate them.

XXXX

After shifting himself around surreptitiously for what felt like days, Samuels had managed to maneuver his blindfold’s edge enough that he could finally see past it. At first, the brightness of the room startled him, but as his vision cleared he noticed his surroundings.

Control panels lined the walls and a central console took up most of the middle of the room. It seemed he’d been left alone for the time being since he didn’t see anyone around, when a figure emerged from the far side of the center controls.

As he moved further into Samuels’ line of sight, the politician could barely keep silent. The first things he noticed were the pointed ears and the slight green tint to the skin.

XXXX

Thirty-six hours after receiving the ransom message, Earth’s leaders were in a quandary. “We do not negotiate with terrorists, sir,” Admiral Gardner repeated to the President for the twentieth time.

“I am well aware of our policies, Admiral,” President Stein responded. “But, dammit, Nathan is a good man, he’s served our planet for most of his life…”

“And he’s your friend,” Captain Archer added softly to the end of the President’s tirade.

A quick glance at the starship captain revealed the sad truth. “Yes,” the President acknowledged.

“Sir, we appreciate that,” Gardner said. “But it doesn’t change anything. We can not give in to these demands.” The officer finished softly as he placed a compassionate hand on the shoulder of his friend and leader.

Stein dropped his head in loss. “I know. But what the hell am I supposed to tell his wife?”

XXXX

A sharp inhalation gave away the fact that he could see. The guard approached and roughly pulled the blindfold the rest of the way off as he aimed a phase pistol at Samuels’ head. Another man, presumably in charge, spoke up. “So, you’ve managed to get a peek. No matter, you won’t be around long enough for anyone to find out what you know.”

“But..but you’re Vulcan,” he managed to stutter out around his shock.

A joyless laugh echoed around the chamber. “No, but that’s pretty funny. We,” he raised his arms to indicate their surroundings, “are Romulan.”

Samuels’ face went pale and he began to pray.

XXXX

The door chime was loud in the quiet of his quarters. Trip pushed himself up from where he’d been feigning sleep to answer, “Come in.”

“Why did you not tell me that you could not sleep?” T’Pol asked softly as she sat down beside him on the bunk.

They sat in silence a moment, side by side on his bed. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll be fine.” Glancing up, he saw the raised eyebrow of doubt. “I’m sorry if I kept you up. I’m still trying to learn to control this bond between us. I guess when I’m tired, it’s a little harder.” He offered her a quirky smile of apology.

Leaning closer, she said, “Trip, if there’s something I can do to help…”

“It’s nothing,” he jumped up from his place and began pacing the room. “I just…I don’t know,” he admitted with frustration as he dragged a hand through his hair.

She rose to move beside him again. “I can feel your hesitance to share this problem with me.”

Meeting her gaze, he held it for a long minute. Stepping closer to her, he reached out and gently grasped her upper arms. “What are we, T’Pol?” he whispered.

A look of fear and uncertainty flitted across her features before being tucked safely away again, but he saw it. More than that, he felt it. “What do you mean?” she finally managed.

“Don’t hand me that. You know what I mean. What are we? Are we friends? Are we lovers? Are we in love?” He pulled her closer until they were mere inches apart. “I know that we have this bond, and I know how I feel about you, but we’ve been through so much. Is there any way to come back from all the hurt and pain and build something good? I need to know where we’re going, if anywhere.”

She reached up to tentatively stroke her fingers along his cheek. As she did, he closed his eyes and leaned into her hand. “I don’t know, Trip.” His eyes shot open and she knew he was afraid of what she might say next. She decided to try another tactic. “Why can’t you sleep?”

“You already know, don’t you?” he asked, surprised.

T’Pol nodded slightly. “I know enough. I know it has to do with Elizabeth and that you’ve been feeling tremendous guilt.”

“Damn bond,” he muttered. “Yeah, I feel like I’ve abandoned her because I’ve started to be happy again.” At this last, he looked deeply into her eyes.

She leaned in and gave him a chaste kiss. “You don’t need to feel guilty for being happy. It would be illogical for us to stop living. That would not serve her memory.”

“That’s what Phlox said,” Trip muttered.

“I know. That’s what he told me as well when I spoke with him earlier this evening.” Trip looked up sharply. “I’d been having difficulty meditating and went to him for a relaxing agent. He also suggested I speak with you,” she finished softly.

After a short moment of silence while she debated how to continue, T’Pol went on. “We are good friends with a powerful past. Before we decide what the future holds for us, perhaps we should concentrate on the present?”

Trip looked down at her and smiled. He ran the fingers of his right hand lightly through her hair and gently stroked the tip of her ear as he did. A slight tremor shook her body as she closed her eyes. “I think you’re right, darlin’. We should work on the here and now.” With that, he leaned down and kissed her, softly at first but it quickly became more heated.

She returned the kiss with equal fervor as her hands began to roam his body. As they slid over the taut muscles of his back, she pulled him in closer.

His arms closed tightly around her tiny waist before his hands tangled into her dark brown locks. They began to move as one toward the recently abandoned bunk just as the intercom chirped.

“Archer to Commander Tucker.” No response.

“Archer to Commander Tucker.”

Trip dragged himself away from T’Pol’s embrace and punched the com button with more force than was needed. “Tucker here, sir.”

“Sorry to call you at this hour, Trip, but I need all the senior officers on the bridge.”

They shared a worried look before he responded. “Aye, sir. I’m on my way.”

“One more thing, Commander. You don’t happen to know where T’Pol is, do you? She’s not answering hails in her quarters.”

Another shared glance and T’Pol spoke up. “I am here, sir. I will be on the bridge shortly.”

After a brief pause, Archer’s answer came back. “Very well. Archer out.”

XXXX

Trip and T’Pol were the last to arrive on the bridge a short time later. As the officers gathered around their commander, his expression was grim and Trip thought his friend had never looked older.

“We got a call from Admiral Gardner a little while ago.” The Captain paused as if unsure how to go on. He breathed deep and pulled a hand across his face. “Columbia received a distress call but when they responded all they found was a buoy alongside Nathan Samuels’ body in an uncharted area of space. Captain Hernandez will be bringing him home for an autopsy and funeral.”

Tucker held his hand up in disbelief. “Wait a minute, when you say he was found in space, you mean on a planet or something, right?”

Archer turned sad eyes on his friend. “No, Trip, I mean space. From all outward appearances, it seems he was jettisoned out into open space and left to die.”

“Oh my God,” Hoshi whispered.

XXXX

End Episode Three

Prologues

By: Angel Koerkel

Genre: Episodic

Rating: PG

Summary: Fourth episode of my virtual season five.

Disclaimers: I don’t own Enterprise, and I’m not making any money off this.

Notes: This is an unusual case because normally I like to complete a story before posting it. But this one still has a lot of ground to cover, so I decided to make it a two-parter. Think of it as a mini-arc within the virtual season arc. Did that make sense?

Also, I’d like to send out kudos to Trish, whom I have been conversing with via email over the past week or two. Her ideas have been a guiding light in a very long tunnel, so thanks, Trish! Hope you enjoy it.

XXXX

Stale air recirculated around the small scout ship as it transported the General of the Romulan Forces and the leader of the military sciences department from the warbird to the surface of Romulus. The two men argued quietly in the back of the vessel as an eager young officer pretended to not listen in while he piloted them.

“If I could just have another test planet. I’m sure that we can make the needed adjustments,” Dr. Ziros nearly pleaded.

“Enough!” spat General Murol. “You have had your chance, it did not work. Why should we lay waste to another planet? The council assigned you a simple task: devise a weapon sufficient to extinguish all humanoid life on a planet, while maintaining its infrastructure and inhabitability. We desire expansion. What good is a planet that is drowning in radiation?”

Breathing deeply, Dr. Ziros tried to explain again. “But, surely you did not expect this to succeed on the first attempt? Weapons development is a delicate process. What harm is there in letting us study the scans we made at Ramy Four and then adjusting the weapon accordingly?”

The pilot cleared his throat in a not-so-subtle way. “Excuse me, sirs, but we will be landing at the Senate Chambers shortly.”

The general grunted at the pilot before turning again to the aging scientist. “I will be speaking with the Senate soon. I suggest you stop groveling to me, and prepare to be called before them. They will want to discuss your…failure.” Murol stood as the ship touched down on the landing pad.

Ziros felt himself go pale at the thought of giving testimony to the Senate regarding his weapon.

XXXX

Captain Archer walked briskly through the glass doors leading to Admiral Gardner’s inner sanctum followed closely by Commanders Tucker and T’Pol. The three officers moved silently toward the desk as the Admiral looked up in greeting. “Jon,” he said with an extended hand. Gardner offered his hand to the engineer next. “Commander Tucker, how are you?”

Trip gave a slight nod as he shook the senior officer’s hand. “Fine, sir. Thanks for asking.”

“And you, Commander T’Pol? You’re well, I hope.” The experience of a lifetime of diplomacy kept his hand at his side.

T’Pol raised her hand in the traditional Vulcan salute. “I am, sir. Thank you.”

Trip smiled inwardly at the ease with which she accepted the Admiral’s pleasantries. Not so long ago she would have raised an eyebrow at the illogic of small talk and disregarded the polite platitude completely. He brought his mind back to the moment at hand when Archer spoke up.

“What were the autopsy findings on Ambassador Samuels, sir?”

“Straight to the point, eh Jon?” The Admiral resumed his seat and indicated the chairs opposite his desk for them. Taking a deep breath, he went on. “We can’t be certain, of course, but it seems that he was tortured prior to his death.”

“Excuse me, sir, but why can we not be certain?” T’Pol asked.

The older man looked at the only Vulcan officer in Starfleet. “Physically, he was not abused, but based on an internal examination, our doctors believe that he may have been subjected to some sort of mental torture.”

Nodding, she surmised, “I see. Something similar to the Andorian’s methods, I presume, a mind probe of some type.”

“Honestly, we just don’t know, but it would seem so.”

“So, they wanted information?” Tucker asked.

“Possibly.”

Captain Archer looked around the room for a moment before hanging his head down. At last, he brought his gaze back up to meet Admiral Gardner’s. “Now what, sir?”

Sighing, Gardner answered, “Now, Jon, you go back to Ramy Four. Find out what the hell is going on.”

Archer’s eyes met his senior officers’ as they listened to the Admiral’s words. Trip caught a glimpse of something he’d not seen since their time in the Expanse: fierce determination and righteous anger.

“Columbia is going to remain here for a little while. We’ll send them back out if you need help, but I think it’s wise to keep a starship at home for the time being.”

Rising, Archer offered his hand across the desk. “We won’t let you down, sir.”

“You never have,” Gardner said.

XXXX

“And that, gentleman and ladies, is why we should try again.” Ziros completed his right of statement and returned to his seat. Sweat beaded across his forehead, but he refused to swipe it away as if that would be acknowledgement of his nervousness.

Half a dozen senators, four male and two female, sat at a semi-circular table waiting to debate the wisdom of continuing the weapons tests. At last, the woman at the far right of the table rose. She paced silently in front of her colleagues for a moment as she met each of their gazes in turn.

Finally, she spoke. “Our latest intelligence reports show that the summit between our enemies is progressing more quickly than we had anticipated. The humans think that petty setbacks like arguing over the location of the talks will hamper proceedings, but we are not so easily distracted. These things will pass quickly, and then it will not be long before a coalition has been formed among them. Once that happens it will be much more difficult for us to acquire planetary bodies without interference from the allied forces.”

Continuing her pacing, she clasped her hands behind her back. “General Murol has made his belief clear. These tests are a waste of time and we would be better served to simply use old-fashioned force to take the planets we want.” She paused to let that thought hang in the air. “Meanwhile, Dr. Ziros believes that this could prove to be a valuable technology if given the opportunity.”

“Ultimately, however, the decision is up to us. We must make the right choice for the Senate and for the Empire. Our job as the Military Sub-Committee is to do what is best for the Romulan people.” She looked over the other members of the group once more. “It is time. Decide.”

XXXX

“Captain’s Log, supplemental. We are en-route to Ramy Four again. It’s fallen on us to determine what the Romulans are up to and to stop them if we can.” Archer paused as he stroked the long ears of his dog. “I can only hope that this situation is resolved without casualties. Unfortunately, something tells me that we may be looking at more than anyone suspects. This could turn ugly before it’s over.” He reached out and toggled the switch to end recording.

“Well, Porthos, what do you think? Time for a walk?” He scratched the canine’s back softly as he spoke and the dog stretched out lazily under his touch until he heard the word ‘walk’. Instantly, he was up and waiting at the door.

Laughing, Archer followed his pet and together they made the evening rounds of the ship they called home.

Flouncing slightly ahead of his master, Porthos rounded a corner and came to an abrupt stop. His human heard a muffled excited yipping from around the bend and when he turned the corner himself, was drawn up in surprise to see T’Pol crouched down and petting said animal.

“Well, I never thought I’d see the day!”

Looking up quickly, but not rising, T’Pol raised an eyebrow at her Captain. “Sir?”

“I never imagined there would come a time when you would be caught willingly petting a dog! Wish I had my camera!” Archer’s eyes crinkled in amusement as the thought of capturing the image flashed through his mind.

Finally standing up, she planted her hands firmly at the small of her back. “Really, Captain. I thought you above such menial human emotions.”

Now that she was at her full height, he took in the sight of her completely. She was dressed in long flowing Vulcan robes. They were a dusky rose color with intricate scroll work along the midline. Her appearance was nothing short of regal. Stammering out an apology the Captain quickly turned serious. “I’m sorry, T’Pol, we seem to have interrupted your evening. Where were you headed dressed so formally?”

This time it was her turn to be uncomfortable, although she hid it well. A slight green tint flushed over her delicately pointed ear tips before receding back down her neck. “I am on my way to Commander Tucker’s quarters for our evening meditation. I find that it improves his punctuality for our appointments if I go to him instead of waiting for him to come to me.”

Archer thought he noticed a hint of irritation in her tone, which immediately set him back at ease. “Well don’t let me keep you then, Commander. Wouldn’t want Trip to accuse you of tardiness!” With a gentle chuckle, he whistled at his furry friend to follow and proceeded down the corridor.

XXXX

Trip was finally getting the hang of the meditation techniques T’Pol had been teaching him. He didn’t complain once in more than an hour. At last, though, his patience ran out. “You know, I’m really glad that you’re helping me learn how to control this bond and all, but there’s only so long I can sit on the floor staring at a flame!”

She peeked out of the corner of one eye to see his quirky smile. “Very well, Trip,” she realized that her meditation time was now over for the night. “How would you like to spend the rest of the evening?”

His eyes widened at her blatant flirtation, but he dismissed it just as quickly. She wouldn’t know how that statement sounded to a human male. However, his interest was piqued and he felt a surge of arousal begin to burn deep in his belly. “Well, we could watch a movie. Or, we could take a walk. Or…”

T’Pol reached over and grasped the back of his head firmly and pulled him to her for a passionate kiss. When they were forced to separate to breathe, he continued, “or we could do that.”

“Indeed, it is much more enjoyable than most of the movies you’ve chosen in the past.” They sat with their foreheads touching for a moment before he caught what she’d said.

“Wait a minute, what do you mean, ‘most’?” Suddenly, he was overwhelmed by a feeling of sheer joy. It occurred to him that she was laughing at him! “You were teasing me!”

She leaned into him further and kissed him again.

This time when they separated, he saw a tiny twitch at the corner of her mouth. “You are certainly being playful tonight, darlin’.”

“I do not know what you are talking about, Trip. Vulcans are not playful.”

“Yeah, right. You know, you’re beautiful when you flirt.” His tone became deep and husky. Moving around the meditation candles, he pulled her up gently. They stood for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes as he stroked his fingers along her cheek and up into her hairline.

She felt a twinge of doubt seep across the bond they shared as he began to brush his fingertips over the point of her ear. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head slightly into his touch at the same time she sent feelings of longing and reassurance back to him.

His courage building, he pulled her closer until her curves were pressed against the hard planes of his body and brought his lips to hers once again. As their mouths explored each other, his hand continued to tease the tip of her ear and pull through her hair while his other hand moved to the small of her back to keep her solidly against him.

T’Pol knew his previous doubts had been erased in a flush of passion, but her own remained, buried deep down past her mental barriers where Trip wouldn’t find them. She didn’t doubt his love for her, nor her own feelings for him. But she did wonder at the possibility of a relationship between them. Would she be able to meet the demands of an emotional human? Would he be able to meet hers? How could they reconcile their two cultures and pasts into a future life together?

All of this she pushed aside and concentrated on the moment. Her hands moved of their own volition over his chest, around his shoulders, across his back, and up his neck. She tangled her fingers in his blond locks and held on for dear life. When they withdrew briefly, she knew she had to speak.

“Trip,” her voice sounded breathy and the engineer smiled at the effect he had on her. “I must tell you something.”

He looked into her deep brown eyes, glazed over with lust. “I don’t know what you think we need to talk about right now, but whatever it is can wait.” He tried to pull her in for another kiss, but her superior strength won out and she maintained her distance, slight though it was.

“It’s important.”

He sighed heavily. “It always is, darlin’. Okay, what is it?” Trip managed to back off from her a little without releasing his embrace.

She could feel the evidence of his arousal against her abdomen as surely as she could along the bond. It was intensely distracting and, at the same time, pleasing to know that she had this effect on him. Taking a deep, calming breath she met his gaze. “You need to know that if we consummate our bond it will become more difficult to sever it.”

Now he backed completely away from her and turned to face the wall. “Do you want to dissolve it?” His voice was a whisper, but the pain it carried was obvious.

T’Pol moved around him so that they were once again facing each other. She kissed him chastely once. “Trip, what I want is irrelevant. A mating bond between us is illogical. You are human, I am Vulcan.”

“Thanks for the lesson in basic biology, T’Pol,” he sarcastically spit out. “Damn it, woman! I don’t want to hear about what’s logical or what species you are. I love you, T’Pol. If that’s not good enough for you, then tell me now.”

His anger and hurt washed over her until it almost crushed her. Then it was followed by an all-encompassing love that literally caused her to draw in a breath in shock. Her hand found his cheek and he leaned into it.

Her voice was soft when she answered, “It is not logical for us to continue, and I do not know if I can ever say the words, Trip, but your feelings are returned. As for the bond, I suppose we will, as you say, cross that bridge when we come to it.”

In the next instant, he crushed her body against his and devoured her mouth. Immediately, the arousal that had subsided only slightly flared again, stronger this time. It was only seconds before Trip had reached his hand along the midline of her ceremonial robes and pulled them open. As his hands delved beneath the heavy fabric, he felt the warmth of her skin laid bare to him. Reaching up, he pushed the gown off her shoulders to puddle on the floor.

As they pulled back, he allowed his gaze to travel down her form. T’Pol’s golden flesh rippled as her naked breasts rose and fell with each breath. “Good God, you are beautiful,” he whispered huskily.

“And you are overdressed,” she replied as her fingers moved to lift his t-shirt over his head. As he stepped out of the shorts she pushed down next, he took her hand and led her the short distance to the bed.

XXXX

The following morning, Archer strode across the bridge to the command center. “Status, Ensign,” he asked as he lowered himself into the waiting chair.

“We are maintaining warp 4.5 and should be arriving at Ramy Four in the next three hours. Sensors show all clear and all systems are functioning normally, sir.” Grik had grown accustomed to giving the Alpha shift reports, but he still got a little nervous talking to the Captain. In the Tellarite service, noone of his rank would be allowed to speak directly to anyone above the rank of lieutenant.

“Thank you, Ensign.” Smiling at the young officer, Archer attempted to put him a little more at ease. “How are things at home, Grik?”

“Excuse me, sir?” The pilot was confused by the personal nature of the question.

Moving up to stand beside the Tellarite, the Captain elaborated, “I was wondering how you’re adjusting to life on Enterprise. How is your family doing? That sort of thing.”

Grik’s snout crinkled a bit and his round eyes widened. “Oh..I’m fine, sir. My family, sir, is…well, I don’t know, really, sir, but I’m sure I can find out, sir, if you’d like me to.”

Archer laughed a little and clapped the pilot’s shoulder. “That’s okay, Grik. Don’t worry about it.” He returned to his seat and began pouring over reports from various departments around the ship while the Tellarite officer puzzled over the strange interaction.

XXXX

Enterprise entered standard orbit around Ramy Four later that morning and the Captain called the senior staff to a meeting. As the officers filed into the conference room, he hoped that his bad feelings about this mission were nothing more than that. “As you are all aware by now,” he began when everyone was seated, “we’re orbiting Ramy Four again. Our job is to find out what the Romulans wanted here. Our first visit was short and we didn’t find anything of significance. This time we’re not leaving until we know what’s going on.”

There were nods all around the table as the crew met his determination enthusiastically. Smiling with pride, he started his orders. “Okay, Trip, you’re with me. We’ll investigate the capital city, located on the western continent, again, looking for any kind of computer records of the attack.”

Archer turned toward Lieutenant Reed. “Malcolm, you and Ensign Grik will take another shuttlepod to the eastern continent. We can tell from orbital scans that that land mass was the first to be hit by whatever weapon did this. Find out why.”

He looked around the table once more. “Any questions? Comments?”

“Yes, sir. Permission to join the team?” T’Pol asked.

“Sorry,” he answered without any hesitation. “I need you here, on Enterprise, in case the Romulans come back.”

“Understood, sir.” A brief wave of worry flooded Trip’s mind and he looked sideways at his Vulcan lover.

The Captain stood, “All right, then, dismissed.”

As everyone else began walking toward the exit, Trip reached out and lightly touched T’Pol’s arm. “Stay, please?” he asked softly.

When they were alone together, he asked, “What’s wrong? I’ve gone on away missions before.”

She looked at the floor for a long moment before meeting his gaze. “Nothing is wrong, Commander.”

“Oh, it’s ‘Commander’ again, is it? Look, don’t think you can fool me, T’Pol. I felt your fear. I know that you’re worried about me.” He reached out and stroked her cheek gently. “It’s okay, really. I’ll be fine. I’ve got a lot to live for.”

The concern in her eyes faded to the background as he ignited a possessive fire in her. Moving into his personal space, she tilted her head up and kissed him. “Yes, you do.”

XXXX

The gavel sounded throughout the Senate chambers and echoed from the distant stone walls. Shryla, the head of the Military Sub-Committee, replaced the marble hammer on its pedestal and stood. “It has been decided. I will take the conclusion before the Praetor, himself, and if he agrees then action will commence immediately.”

Turning toward her left, she faced the scientist responsible for their current failure. “Don’t get comfortable, Dr. Ziros. Our illustrious leader may be many things, but he is not forgiving.” She held her head high and made her way out of the hall flanked by armed guards.

Ziros started to stand, but a powerful hand pushed him back down. He looked up to see the face of General Murol leering over him. “Sit, doctor, be patient. I’m sure Shryla won’t be long. I for one can’t wait to hear the Praetor’s decision.”

XXXX

End Part One, Episode Four

XXXX

Next time, on Enterprise:

Lieutenant Reed and Grik embark on a clandestine affair of the heart; Captain Archer decides he’d rather spend his days as an Orion slave trader and abandons his ship toward that end; Trip and T’Pol invite Hoshi to join them ‘meditating’; and Phlox feeds Porthos to his Rigelian bat.

Did ya’ really think I’d tell ya!

Prologues, Part II

By: Angel Koerkel

Genre: Episodic

Rating: PG

Summary: Fifth episode of my virtual season five.

Disclaimers: I don’t own Enterprise, and I’m not making any money off this.

Notes: Sorry about the delay, but writer’s block the size of the Great Wall of China wrapped itself around my brain and limited my thinking abilities to planning the next trip to the pool with the kiddies!

Again, much thanks to Trish for her help and inspiration (and at times, blatant dialogue!).

XXXX

Archer moved quickly around his quarters, getting ready to head down to Ramy Four. He paused during his preparations to toggle his desktop computer. “Captain’s personal log: I’ll be going to the surface soon with Commander Tucker. Hopefully, we’ll be able to discover more about the Romulan motivations and methods for destroying this planet. I’m grateful that in the weeks since the incident, Starfleet got medical ships out here to take care of the bodies. However, the planet is still extremely dangerous and is in the beginning stages of a nuclear winter. We will be forced to take a slow circuitous route down due to the high radiation levels and polluted atmosphere wreaking havoc with the shuttlepod’s navigation and helm systems.

“On a personal note, I’m looking forward to the time alone with my Chief Engineer. Our friendship has suffered a lot over the past couple of years and I’m anxious to try to repair it.” The Captain flicked the switch once again to stop the recording and reached out to pet his beagle.

“Well, buddy, I’m off. Phlox’ll look in on you every few hours. Be good,” he finished with one last scratch as he tossed the small dog a cube of cheese. Archer grabbed his duffle bag off the bunk and headed out the door.

XXXX

Half an hour later, two shuttlepods were arcing slowly away from Enterprise and drawing toward the planet.

On board Shuttlepod One, Archer sat in the pilot’s chair and controlled the descent. He activated the communications line and called out, “Archer to Enterprise.”

“T’Pol here, sir,” came the answer.

“All right, Commander. We’re heading down nice and slow. It’ll probably take us two hours to reach the surface and we’ll be out of communication within the next twenty minutes thanks to the radiation levels. Take care of my ship and we’ll signal you when we’re on our way back.”

“Understood, sir.” A slight pause filled the shuttle, but then she continued. “Be careful…both of you.”

Jon threw a sideways glance at his blushing Engineer. “We will,” he answered with a smile in his tone before disconnecting the channel.

The Captain pushed back slightly from the control panel once the course was set and turned to face his friend. “Well, Trip, what’s new?”

XXXX

Dr. Ziros, the former head of the Romulan Military Sciences Department and now fugitive from his own people, looked out at the silvery-blue streaks of light passing by his recently acquired starcraft. His self-loathing was surpassed only by his fear; fear of his government, fear for the fate of his family had they remained on Romulus.

“Are you sure there wasn’t another way?” the soft voice of his wife, L’Treya asked from over his shoulder. He turned to face her and felt his heart melt at the sight of her tear-stained cheeks. Ziros gently took her into his arms and stroked her long, silky, black hair.

“I’m sure, love. If we’d remained home Murol would’ve taken you and Kiras into custody to ensure my ‘cooperation’. I couldn’t let that happen. The two of you are more important to me than anything, even my loyalty to the Praetor.” He leaned down and kissed L’Treya softly as new tears fell silently from both of them.

The hatch from the living area of the craft opened and a tall, lanky young man approached the couple. “So that’s it then, Father? You betray our people, dishonor yourself and our family name, steal me away from the only home I’ve ever known, all because you were scared?”

Ziros pulled back from his wife to face his son. “One day you will understand, Kiras. When you have a family…”

Kiras interrupted before his father could finish, “I will never have a family!” he shouted. “Do you not see what you have done? If we live, anywhere we finally settle there will be no Romulan female for me to take as consort. If we don’t live, well that will bring a quick end to our line. Either way, my future is sealed, as is yours. We will spend what is left of our lives running from our own people and die alone.”

“You do not know that,” Ziros said with little conviction. “We are already out of Romulan space. Soon, we will find safety.” Even as the words left his mouth, sensors began beeping signaling an object in their path. Ziros turned away to check his command board.

“What is it?” L’Treya asked.

“Another ship. We’re still several hours away from them, but I believe I can establish communications.” Ziros toggled several switches and fine-tuned the frequency knobs as he considered what to say to the potential friend.

XXXX

Trip dragged a hand through his hair, exasperation evident in the rough lines of his face. Archer noticed for the first time how much his friend had aged over the recent years. It wasn’t just chronological age showing itself in the tiny wrinkles at the corners of his mouth, there was a maturity visible behind the blue eyes that used to be so easy-going.

“What do you want me to say, Cap’n?” Tucker asked slowly.

“How about the truth?” That earned him a doubt-filled glare followed quickly by acceptance.

“Are you sure?”

Now wondering if this was the best idea, Archer considered backing out. In the end though, he missed his friend and wanted to know what was going on in his life. “Yeah, Trip, I’m sure. We’ll call it Captain-Senior Officer Privilege. Anything you say here, stays here. Fair enough?”

Trip let out a heavy sigh, immensely relieved that his oldest friend was available to him at last. He had wanted desperately to talk to him lately, but had worried about the position it would put Jon in. A broad smile crept over Trip’s face and he visibly relaxed into the chair. “All right, then. In a nutshell, it goes like this: me and T’Pol got this Vulcan mating bond…”

Archer listened as Tucker outlined the past for him, at times scarcely believing what he was hearing. When the story drew to a close, his ears perked up at the final statement his engineer offered.

“The long of the short of it is that I love her, Jon. I can’t imagine ever being happy without her. In fact, I’m gonna ask her to marry me.” Trip had looked down at his hands, clasped between his knees.

“What! Trip, you know what that’ll mean for your careers? Starfleet isn’t likely to let you continue to be stationed on the same ship. You’ll be grounded!” Archer himself could think of no worse fate than being told he wouldn’t be able to fly anymore.

Tucker met his friend’s worried countenance and laughed. “Yeah, I know what it means, but I’m willing to accept that decision.”

“What about T’Pol? Will she be so quick to leave space?”

“Well, now that I’m not so sure of, but I’m tired of sitting on my hands, pretending I don’t care about her.” Seeing Archer’s questioning look, he went on, “She loves me too, Cap’n. She doesn’t have to say the words; I can feel it in the bond.”

Archer shook his head in disbelief, but smiled just the same. “All right then; let me be the first to say, congratulations.” He slapped his friend soundly on the back.

Smiling warmly, Trip answered, “I haven’t asked her yet, sir.”

XXXX

Ensign Sato looked bored. She sat at her station fulfilling her duties, which at the current time were limited to listening to static. The shuttlepods carrying Captain Archer, Commander Tucker, Lieutenant Reed, and Ensign Grik had left communications range nearly fifteen minutes earlier and would not return for at least five hours, giving her little to do. As her mind began to drift her eyes caught an unexpected sight, a flashing light indicating an incoming transmission.

Immediately, she started tracing the signal and pressed her earpiece tighter into place as she ran the customary translation matrix over the message. While the computer did its job, she faced the command center of the bridge. “Commander T’Pol, we are receiving a transmission.”

Looking up sharply, T’Pol’s brows knitted slightly together. “From whom, Ensign?”

“Unknown. However, the language is Romulan.”

Now a finely sculpted eyebrow shot up as T’Pol answered, “Indeed? Very well, put it on the view screen, please.”

Shaking her head slowly as she worked over her board, Hoshi replied, “I can’t do that, ma’am. They are sending a visual signal, but it’s incompatible with our systems. The best I can do is audio.”

“All right then, Ensign.”

Hoshi flipped a few switches and amidst a crackle of distortion a voice echoed from around the bridge. “This is Dr. Ziros of the Romulan Star Empire. My family and I are attempting to defect to safety. We are on a small personal vessel and have no weapons. Please respond.”

T’Pol and Sato’s gazes met as a look of surprise came over Hoshi’s features. “Ensign, please open a channel to respond.” With a nod, Sato acknowledged the order and complied; T’Pol spoke into the air, “This is Commander T’Pol of the Starfleet vessel Enterprise. We stand ready to assist you.”

“We will reach your position in a few hours, Commander. I look forward to our meeting. In the mean time, as a sign of good faith, I will send information regarding a weapon recently used to destroy a planet within your quadrant. I believe you call it Ramy Four.”

Even T’Pol was barely able to conceal her surprise at this statement. “Indeed, Doctor. And how is it that you have this information to share?”

A heavy sigh was audible over the line before Ziros answered, “Because I developed it, Commander.”

XXXX

Ensign Grik sat in silence at the helm controls of shuttlepod two. He wasn’t sure if he should talk to Lieutenant Reed or not. True, they had shared some meals together in the Mess Hall and he seemed polite enough, but that was during off-duty time. On the bridge, Grik had noticed, that Reed was all business and seemed to be a stickler for the rules. ‘Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut,’ thought the young Tellarite.

Reed, himself, was rechecking the phase pistols they had brought along for the third time. When he finished, he moved up to the second pilot’s seat and plopped down. He looked questioningly at the piggish officer for a moment before he decided to ask what had been bugging him ever since Grik had come onboard. “Mind if I ask you something?”

“Not at all, sir,” answered the Ensign.

“Why’d you sign on to Enterprise? I mean, Tellar has its own spacefleet.”

Grik turned to face the Englishman. His beady eyes watered slightly at the personal question, but he was glad to finally talk about his decision with someone. Even his roommate, Ensign Tommy Stiles, hadn’t asked, despite his friendly attitude. “Well, sir, I’ve always been a little different I suppose. Perhaps you’re not aware, but Tellarites are not the most polite of species.”

Reed rolled his eyes at the obvious statement, but Grik continued.

“I never felt very comfortable among my peers, and when our worlds began peace talks I saw an opportunity to meet new races and find a place where I might fit in a little better. My father was furious that I would not be serving on a Tellarite vessel, but I told him it was my decision.”

A new kind of respect for the young officer grew in Reed’s heart. “So, how is your family adjusting? Has your father come around?”

Darkness fell over Grik’s face. His snout seemed to curl into itself as he answered, “My family disowned me when I left. I’ve sent them several letters, but they’ve never responded. My father’s last words to me were that he had no son.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” Malcolm lowered his eyes to allow some privacy.

Grik smiled brightly. “It’s okay, Lieutenant. I really don’t mind. Although I do miss my mother, she was no happier with my decision and she hasn’t bothered to answer my letters either. I don’t suppose anyone else knows what it’s like to have such a narrow-minded father, but the choice to end our relationship was his, and it’s his loss.”

Laughing out loud, Reed met the gaze of his companion. “Let me tell you a little about this English Naval family I know!”

XXXX

Silence reigned throughout the small bridge area where Ziros and his family stood glaring at one another.

Anger etched itself in the prominent forehead of Kiras as he gnashed his teeth and balled his fists. “How could you? Of all the things you’ve done, this is the worst. I can not believe that you would willingly give away state secrets to the enemy!”

Ziros looked weary as he collapsed into a nearby chair, his wife hovering lovingly at his side. “They’re not state secrets. The Empire didn’t even want to continue development of the weapon and all of its designs belong to me. I insisted on keeping certain parts of the process to myself as a safeguard.”

“If possible, I am more ashamed to be your son now than I was when we left Romulus in this stolen ship.” With that, Kiras stormed through the door.

Patting his wife’s hand, Ziros looked up into her eyes. “It’ll be okay, L’Treya. He’ll come around eventually.”

“I hope you’re right, love. I’m afraid you underestimate our son.”

XXXX

On the planet’s surface, Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Grik were attempting sensor scans in the haze of debris and dust that fluttered listlessly through the lower atmosphere. Their limited field of vision in the environmental suits they were forced to wear didn’t help and more than once, they stumbled over the destruction. “I can’t believe anyone could do this to a peaceful planet,” Grik commented as he looked out over what was once a large field.

“According to the Vulcan database, Ramy Four was primarily agrarian. They believed in the unity of life. Apparently, they built their cities to be as unobtrusive to the natural beauty of their world as possible and most of the population still lived in rural communities.” Reed shook his head at the senseless waste.

“Come on,” he continued, indicating a sensor signal leading them north. “I’ve got a strong energy signature this way.”

The two men walked silently among the dead plant-life as a steel-gray dawn peaked over the horizon, glowing dimly through the ash.

XXXX

“Have we received the information from Dr. Ziros, Ensign?” T’Pol asked from the center seat.

Hoshi looked up and nodded. “Yes. It’s just finished downloading now, Commander. I should have it translated and ready for you in,” the ensign checked the file size quickly, “about twenty minutes.”

T’Pol tilted her head in understanding, “Very good, Ensign.”

XXXX

“Damn, I can hardly see where I’m going.”

Archer grabbed Trip’s arm to keep him from taking a header into what was once a fountain.

“Careful now, Phlox will be really pissed if you sustain anymore radiation poisoning this year.”

“He’ll be pissed?” Trip’s voice was incredulous. “I’ll be pissed!” He craned his neck as best he could in the EV suit and took an appreciative look at the surrounding area. “Wow, would you look at that? The architecture is beautiful here. Lizzie would’ve loved it.”

Captain Archer blinked in surprise. He hadn’t heard Trip mention his beloved sister in over two years to him. For the first time he accepted that his best friend had recovered from her loss without his help, and he was once again grateful for the presence of T’Pol in Trip’s life.

Smiling, Archer thought briefly of the graceful young woman he had known and thought of how these structures could easily have flowed from her hand. “Yeah, some of these elements do remind me of her buildings.”

Trip’s own smile turned wistful for a moment, then he grasped his Captain’s arm and gave a gentle tug. “Come on, Cap’n. We’ve still got a lot of ground to cover.”

XXXX

Murol paced his bridge. As he stopped in front of the helmsman, the pilot hesitantly looked up. “Faster!” demanded the general.

“Sir, we’re going as fast as…” the young officer began.

“NO EXCUSES!” Murol screamed at the terrified man as he slammed his fists down on the control panel, causing sparks to fly from the edges of the plating as several systems shorted out. “Find that thieving, lying, disloyal, son-of-a-Vulcan! He can’t have gone far in that starcraft wannabe!”

A female officer on the other side of the bridge braved the general’s wrath by calling out to him, “Sir! I’m receiving a transmission.”

XXXX

Trip and Archer repacked their gear in the aft of the shuttlepod as they purged the internal atmosphere and replaced the noxious fumes that had filled the cabin when they opened the hatchway with the clean air they had stored in tanks under the deck plating. When the green light on the atmospheric controls board lit up, both men gratefully removed their helmets.

“God, it feels good to be able to breathe again,” Trip stated as he drew in a deep breath of the processed air.

Archer dropped onto a nearby bench and began pulling his legs out of the suit. “What a damned waste,” he growled. “We didn’t learn a thing, these people didn’t bother recording anything in space, they just didn’t care enough about what was happening out there.”

Tucker sat down next to his commanding officer and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Cap’n. Maybe Malcolm and that Tellarite kid got something.”

“Maybe,” Archer said in a very uncertain tone. “Come on,” he said as he rose off the cushion, “let’s get home. I’ve got a dog waiting for me, and you’ve got…” The Captain let his voice trail off with a mischievous grin.

Trip wagged a finger at him and smiled like a schoolboy. “Now, Cap’n, you promised not to mention anything.”

“All right, all right,” Archer laughed, holding his hands up in mock defeat. “Come on, we’ve got a long flight home.” The two friends worked together, chatting about nothing in particular for quite a long while.

XXXX

A sadistic smile became wider across Murol’s face as he watched the tiny ship grow larger on the warbird’s viewscreen. “At last, Dr. Ziros you shall meet an end fitting the traitorous coward that you are!”

XXXX

As L’Treya’s eyes scanned the sensor panel in front of her, she thought of her long marriage to Ziros. They had been so happy and so in love, nothing else seemed to matter. It was unimportant that her parents had not approved of him due to his career as a scientist. They had wanted her to marry a military man, someone like her own father. But she had held fast and in the end proved them wrong, she had thought.

Ziros was dedicated to his work and his family fiercely. However, he often spoke of the Praetor with disparity. He seemed to find less and less appealing about the government in general and about the various leaders in particular.

When he’d come home late several days ago and practically shoved her and their son into a ground vehicle with nothing more than the clothes they were wearing and took them to a spaceport, she’d wondered what he’d gotten them involved in. Now, as the proximity warnings began flashing violently, she felt the dread settle heavily in her heart.

“Ziros!” she said anxiously. “There’s a ship coming in on sensors, bearing 180 mark 45. It’s moving at warp four.”

His eyes met his wife’s and they shared the knowing glance that a lifetime together allows. He smiled sadly at her and said, “I’m sorry, love.”

XXXX

“Commander!”

“Yes?” T’Pol calmly asked the excited ensign sitting at the science station.

“There’s a ship registering on long-range sensors,” the woman answered.

T’Pol felt her patience wane as she turned to the junior officer. “I am aware of that, Ensign. It is Dr. Ziros’ ship.”

“No, ma’am. There’s another ship, moving fast toward us.”

Sudden understanding dawned on the Vulcan as she whirled around in her command chair toward the tactical station. “Polarize the hull plating, Ensign.”

Before the officer could finish his job, phase blasts rocked the ship, throwing the bridge crew around like rag dolls. Ensign Vega pulled himself up off the deck and struggled with the controls to activate the plating. “Forward plating down to 65. All other systems, normal,” he announced loudly over the din.

“Evasive maneuvers,” Ensign Sato’s voice called to the helmsman. He turned briefly to question the order since it wasn’t given by the commanding officer, when he noticed Commander T’Pol lying on the ground, a viscous green fluid pooling around her slim form. “Sickbay,” Hoshi said to the air, “emergency teams to the bridge.”

Pausing to look at her surroundings, Hoshi took a deep breath. “I’m officially taking command,” she announced to the bridge at large. “Ensign Chalmers,” she directed to the science station, “what’s the status on that ship?”

“They’ve moved off, ma’am. They’re headed toward Dr. Ziros’ ship now.”

“Damn,” Hoshi swore under her breath. “Ensign Randall,” she faced the helmsman again, “how far away are we? How fast can we get there?”

“But, our people on the planet,” the young ensign began to argue, “Commander T’Pol didn’t want to abandon them to meet up with Ziros before…”

“How far, Ensign? That’s an order.” Sato’s voice was strong and confident, but inside she was shaking like a child. Just then, the lift doors opened and the medics emerged onto the bridge. They quickly gathered T’Pol’s body onto a stretcher and left again.

“Three minutes at top speed, ma’am,” Randall answered looking appropriately shamed.

Debating briefly within herself, Hoshi reached a decision. “Set a course, Ensign.” She turned back toward tactical. “Vega, get those front plates back up to 100, draw power from life support if you have to, but I want us covered.”

“Yes, ma’am,” came the determined responses from both ensigns.

XXXX

Archer was in the middle of telling Trip about the latest water polo game he’d seen, when Tucker suddenly doubled over, nearly slamming his head on the console. “Trip! What’s wrong?” Archer moved quickly to his friend, placing a hand along his back and trying to be comforting.

A few deep breaths later, and the engineer was sitting up straight again. “I’m all right, Cap’n, but T’Pol isn’t. We gotta get back, fast.”

“What? How could you…”

Looking up at his friend, Trip’s eyes were filled with unshed tears. “Trust me, I felt it in the bond. It’s like she’s gone.”

XXXX

Kiras strode onto the small bridge. He met his father’s gaze and held it.

“You did it, didn’t you?” Ziros asked without any hint of recrimination. “You sent a message to Murol and let him know where we were.”

The younger man held his chin up proudly, “Yes, Father, I did.”

Ziros pointed at the sensor grid and then out the viewer. “Do you see that? They’ll be here in minutes. They’ve already fired on the Starfleet ship and now they’ll destroy us.” He collapsed into the captain’s chair and asked his son, “Why?”

“Because I would rather die serving my Praetor than live as a traitor. I have proven my loyalty to the Empire today, Father. For that, I will be rewarded.”

A snort of derision escaped Ziros as he looked up at his only child. “Only with death, my boy.”

XXXX

“This is Murol,” the general said to the open channel. “Hello, Ziros.”

A pop of static later and Ziros’ face solidified on the warbird’s screen. “Hello, General. I knew it was you, of course.”

“Ah, yes, but now there will be no doubt in your mind as to who it was that destroyed you.” Without closing the channel, he turned to the weapons station. “Fire,” he stated as calmly as if he’d just ordered a beverage from a food dispenser.

Brilliant blue phased energy flashed out from the warbird and enveloped the tiny private ship. It seemed to glow like a miniature sun for a moment, and then exploded just as powerfully as a supernova. Where Ziros’ face had been on the viewscreen, now only an open starfield remained.

Murol turned again to the communications officer. “Raise that Starfleet ship.”

XXXX

The explosion lit up the bridge of Enterprise with an unnatural light. As the fierce glow faded away, Hoshi recovered from the shock and immediately ordered Enterprise back to Ramy Four.

“Ma’am, we’re receiving a message from that warbird.”

“Put them on speakers.”

“It’s just a single message; they’ve closed the channel.” The ensign now seated at the communications board flipped a switch and a deep baritone reverberated around the bridge.

“This is General Murol. We apologize for any inconvenience caused by the fugitive Ziros. Rest assured, he has been dealt with in the traditional manner for enemies of the Empire. Have a good day.”

XXXX

“Archer to Enterprise. Archer to Enterprise.” The hail repeated incessantly from the Captain’s lips as he kept a cautious eye on Tucker.

“It’s no use, Cap’n. We’re still too low in the atmosphere.”

The Captain shook his head. “No, we should be able to reach them by now.”

The officers shared a look of trepidation. What if whatever Trip had felt through his bond with T’Pol had affected not just her, but everyone? What if Enterprise was gone?

As quickly as the thought occurred to both men, it was eliminated. “Enterprise to Captain Archer,” Hoshi’s voice rang strongly through the tiny shuttlepod.

“Hoshi? Where’s T’Pol? What the hell’s going on?” Archer asked.

“Sir, there’ve been some developments here that I’d rather not go into over the comm.”

Archer noted that she sounded tired and more than a little scared, something that didn’t happen very often anymore. “All right, Ensign. We’re on course to rendezvous with you in fifteen minutes. Meet us in the landing bay.”

“Aye, sir.”

As the channel closed, the long-time friends cast worried gazes at the small ship’s viewscreen, as if the answers they sought would be found there. But all they saw was the looming vision of their home.

XXXX

“May I ask a question, sir?” quivered the voice of a frightened young woman.

“What is it?” beamed Murol. He was in an incomparably good mood. Now that Ziros had acted so foolishly, his own place in Romulan history would be certain.

She cleared her throat and croaked out, “Well, sir, I was just wondering why we didn’t destroy the Starfleet ship too?”

“An excellent question, Ensign.” The General offered with an evil grin. “The Praetor has decided that expansion is the best next step for the Empire and that the destruction of enemy ships would draw unwanted attention from our foes. Besides, now they have seen how we treat those that oppose us and they will go back to tell all of their allies. No one will wish to face us once they hear of this day.”

XXXX

The seals had barely cleared before Trip was out of the shuttlepod and storming onto the landing bay. “Where’s T’Pol?” he demanded of Hoshi.

“She’s in Sickbay, sir.” The once timid Ensign answered and Tucker disappeared through the hatchway before Archer even made it down the ramp.

“Captain,” Sato began once he was approaching her. “A lot has happened, sir.”

“Fill me in on the way to the bridge, Ensign.”

XXXX

Trip entered Sickbay at a run and barely stopped before plowing down Dr. Phlox.

“Calm down, Commander,” the Denobulan started as he raised his hands at the engineer.

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Doc. Where’s T’Pol?” he looked anxiously past the doctor, searching the biobeds for the familiar form. He finally noticed the pulled curtain around the last bed and headed that way, circling around Phlox.

“Commander T’Pol has sustained some very serious injuries, but I believe she will make a full recovery,” Phlox explained as he hurried to catch up with Tucker, who shot him a look of disbelief and suddenly stopped walking.

He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, then faced the doctor again. “If she’s gonna be okay, why isn’t she here?” he asked, stabbing at the side of his head with his right hand.

“Excuse me?” asked Phlox, his normally exuberant smile fading fast.

Tucker took a deep breath and quickly explained about the bond. “And just a little while ago,” he concluded, “she just vanished from my head. It’s like she was never there at all.” His voice trailed off and he looked back at the drawn curtain.

“Of course, I’m familiar with the mating bond from serving on Vulcan, but I had no idea that one could be established with a human,” he looked ready to sit Trip down on his own biobed and begin studying him, but stopped himself when the engineer shot him a look of impatience. “Oh, right, anyway, I assure you, Commander, Commander T’Pol is doing just fine. I don’t know why you’ve lost the connection, but she is going to be okay.”

Nodding his acceptance without looking at the doctor, Trip asked, “Can I sit with her?”

“Yes, of course you can.”

Phlox had not finished answering before Trip was moving around the edge of the curtain.

XXXX

End Episode Five

Today is a Gift

By: Angel Koerkel

Genre: General episodic

Disclaimer: I do not own Enterprise, Star Trek, or any character therein. This is purely for entertainment and I am not making any money from it.

Rating: G, I guess

Summary: A brief intermission between episodes five and six of my virtual season five.

XXXX

T’Pol drifted. She knew neither hot nor cold, dark nor light. She simply was. Slowly her mind began to become aware of itself. At first, she knew that something was not right, although she could not have said how she knew that. Gradually, her sense of self grew until her name was a real thing in her mind and she imagined a body for herself. As this new form floated freely in the space of her subconscious, more of reality seeped into her thoughts. After a time, she created a place for her to be within the emptiness. Its stark whiteness was in contrast to the nothingness of before, and she rested where she thought the floor should be. Finally, she pulled her memories out from their hiding place in the farthest corners of her mind.

The most recent memory came first. She had been on the bridge. The Romulans attacked and there was a blast. She recalled falling as a noise erupted from nearby and something seemed to pass across her head. Then there was simply nothing.

Her thoughts traveled backward through time quickly. In the blink of an eye, she was back to her first day on Enterprise. One more second and she had gone through her career in espionage. Literally in a heartbeat, she watched herself grow younger by decades until finally T’Pol of Vulcan looked on herself as a small child. Now the passage of time slowed and began to move forward at a seemingly normal pace. She watched the memory play out like one of Trip’s movies on a vidscreen.

The younger version of herself stood ramrod straight in perfect imitation of the older Vulcans surrounding her. Her tiny hands clasped themselves firmly at the small of her back and her short dark hair lay meticulously shaped around the tips of her ears. However, there was a light in the child’s eyes, a tiny flicker of a smile touched the corners of her mouth, and she seemed on the verge of bouncing on her toes with excitement.

The landing platform around the girl was crowded with Vulcans of all ages going about their daily business, awaiting shuttles, either arriving or departing, so that they could continue on their way. But, the child T’Pol was there for the pure joy of greeting her second-foremother when she stepped off her transport.

It had been a bit of a bribe made by T’Les. T’Pol had been quite negligent in her studies ever since hearing about T’Mir’s impending visit. So in order to motivate the child, T’Les had agreed that she would be allowed to accompany her to the transport station only if all of her work had been completed for the past week. It had been difficult for T’Pol to concentrate, but somehow she managed and at less than an hour before the scheduled time, she finished her last assignment.

Now the two females stood side-by-side on the platform, looking less alike than ever before. T’Les stood at rigid attention, her face impassive, as she watched dutifully for the appropriate shuttle. As the small ship approached, T’Pol’s impatience grew exponentially and her eyes danced with anticipation. T’Mir was unlike anyone else T’Pol knew, and the polar opposite of T’Les, which pleased T’Pol to no end.

Of course, her mother blamed the older woman’s eccentricities on her age. Even Vulcans had been known to suffer its effects, after all, and she was exceptionally old. T’Pol had heard that T’Mir had once been the very embodiment of logic and suppressed emotion, but she had a hard time reconciling that knowledge with the woman who had just walked off the ship with a twinkle in her eye that turned to a slight smile upon seeing T’Pol.

Several days after T’Mir’s arrival, T’Pol was awakened from her sleep to the sounds of arguing, an uncommon occurrence in any Vulcan household. Not that Vulcans didn’t disagree, they just tended to do it quietly, using logical statements to make their points rather than raised voices. But on this particular night, a very vocal disagreement made its way through the house and to T’Pol’s ears.

“Absolutely not! I can not believe you would even suggest such a thing!” she heard her mother’s voice raised above its normal volume.

“Why are you so stubborn, T’Les? I took you when you were her age, and your mother before that. She is the last of my line that I will be able to show the site to, and I have held onto this life just long enough to take her.” T’Mir’s voice shook with anger and something else, sadness, maybe?

Footsteps echoed down the narrow hallway and T’Pol knew that her mother was pacing. She always paced when she knew she was wrong but looking for a way out of admitting it. “Just because you felt it necessary to expose us to that does not mean I will allow my daughter to set foot there!”

A pause settled heavily over them to be broken by the soft tones of T’Mir as the sadness won out. “Very well, if that is your wish. She is your daughter and I will abide by it.” A few moments later, T’Pol heard T’Mir’s door close and then the unmistakable sound of crying drifted through the thin wall that separated their rooms. T’Pol wished desperately that her father were there and not gone on assignment for the Science Academy.