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"The Needs of the Many"
by Lady Rainbow

Rating: PG13
Pairings: Hayes/Sato, TnT
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, don’t make money off ‘em.
Notes: The E Crew finds allies in unexpected places, and you find out that not everyone agrees with their superiors. T’Pau asks Trip for a favor...and of course, he agrees when it involves T’Pol’s safety.

Phlox and a member of his staff catch a deadly time bomb in Enterprise’s engines and stumble over a potential suspect in the sabotage. Is this suspect truly guilty? We’ll see later in the story.

Please R&R. I’d love to hear some feedback. Thanks.

Thanks for the edit, Pesterfield, and good points about Thalarek. No well-trained (and sneaky) Andorian would leave a lot of information lying about, even if he was trying to leave clues. Thalarek's more than he seems...you'll find out in the next chapter. :)

Thanks, Pesterfield! :) You rock!


Three

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Trip Tucker muttered.

He, Security Minister T’Pau, Jonathan Archer, and Ambassador Soval passed through the gates of the Andorian Consulate in Shi’Kahr. The burly guards who normally stood at its entrance were gone and the halls echoed like empty ice caves. Trip saw the signs of hurried departures and frantic abandonment of projects and meetings. The cafeteria tables still held the remains of the noon meal. Datapads and handwritten scrolls littered the floors of the conference rooms.

“There is no one to naysay us,” T’Pau reminded him. “Every Andorian has been recalled to their home planet by their government. They had no time to activate but the most simple of defenses for their building.”

“They definitely left in a hurry,” Trip agreed, as he carefully stepped over what looked like the Andorian equivalent of a baby rattle. “The temperature in here’s enough to make me uncomfortable, if I was an Andorian.”

T’Pau’s Security detachment took holophotos and went through the various items with brutal efficiency. As the Security Minister went past, they looked up and saluted her with utmost respect. She nodded at them, asked about their progress, and encouraged her people with a quiet word. Yet she carried herself like a banner, or like a sheathed knife.

No wonder she’s become so high-up in V’Lar’s government, Trip mused. Hell, I’d be scared of her if she was looking over my shoulder.

He glanced at Jon, but the diplomat’s mouth was pressed into a tight line. It was obvious that Jon didn’t agree with T’Pau’s methods, but was too politic to say it aloud. Soval hardly looked thrilled, either, as they came close to Ambassador Thalarek’s former office. T’Pau stepped ahead of Soval, while Trip did the same with Jon. She nodded at him as they took positions on either side of the door, and she input a code. The door slid open.

Both of them canvassed the office with swift efficiency. Trip noticed that Thalarek’s files were all encoded and stored according to time indexes. He scanned the computer to find it similarly locked down. T’Pau reached under a shelf and pressed a button. The hum of a forcefield at the back of the room died. A single Andorian chest stood high on a bookshelf, wrought in brilliant icy-blue crystal and outfitted with silver lettering.

Trip was about to reach for the box when T’Pau put a hand on his arm. She quickly examined the box, then detached a small cylinder from the lock. Immediately, a tiny blade popped out of a hidden compartment within the cylinder.

“Poisoned needle,” T’Pau said flatly. “Your nervous system would have ceased to function within minutes, had it scratched your skin.”

He blew out a breath and replied, “Thanks, T’Pau. Simple, nasty thing.”

“Yet effective.” She turned to see Soval already at the computer, his long fingers tapping in counter-codes. Jon sat at what had been the desk belonging to Thalarek’s assistant and paged through an old-fashioned appointment book bound in leather. He ran his hand down the columns of Andorian script.

“Soval,” Jon said. “Thalarek’s left some clues behind.”

“What sort of clues, Jonathan?”

Jon bought the appointment book over to Soval and pointed at the last column of notation. “He mentions several classified meetings with the Andorian High Command and two important ones with the Vulcan High Command.”

T’Pau scowled as much as her Vulcan training allowed her. “I was not aware of such meetings, Jonathan. When were they held?”

“The last one was only five hours before Thalarek received the recall order from his superiors,” Jon murmured, as his eyes passed over the notes. “Says here that he saw Minister Shomek and his assistant Soultek, but he didn’t go into any details about what was discussed.”

“Our good friends Shomek and Soultek,” Trip murmured.

T’Pau grunted. “I would not classify them as ‘good friends’, Lieutenant Commander Tucker,” she said in a flat tone. As Jon’s eyes widened in surprise, she asked, “What is it?”

“Thalarek mentions an heirloom chest in his office, one that he ‘accidentally’ left behind—“

“This one?” Trip indicated the box in T’Pau’s hands. “She’s already deactivated a hidden trap in it.”

Soval raised an eyebrow and ordered, “Open it, T’Pau. I am curious to see what Thalarek has left for us.”

Her mouth twisted in disgust as she tried to open the magnetic lock, but it held shut like melted duranium. Jon gently took it from her and ran his finger along the seam of the lid, then there was a soft click...and they all heard a quiet, forceful voice speaking in Andorian.

“Thalarek?” Trip asked softly; Soval nodded. Trip wasn’t fluent in Andorian, but as the ambassador’s tone rose and fell in cadence, he could hear the regret and the unspoken anger in Thalarek’s words. T’Pau appeared mystified, Soval confused, and Jon...Trip saw his old friend’s expression become grimmer.

“He states his apologies to you, Soval and you, T’Pau, but he was honor-bound to follow the Andorian Council’s edicts and regrets not being able to contact either of you before his hasty departure. Apparently, he knew that Enterprise would be coming to Vulcan because he then addresses me directly in his home dialect.” Jon pressed the front corners of the box and the lid popped open to reveal a set of datacards, neatly slotted within the velvet interior.

“He could not be overt, but he did leave us some information,” T’Pau said.

“Yes. He implored me to get it into your hands, Soval, but was adamant that V’Lar not see it,” Jon continued. “Thalarek didn’t go into his reasons, but I think he suspected that it would be...detrimental to her health.”

T’Pau snorted, but said nothing, and Soval’s look of discomfort increased. “It would be, Jonathan, more than you know,” he said.

“Then he finishes with a message for Captain Sato.” Jon looked up at Trip and added, “Her husband is in danger if he goes back to Andoria.”

“We gotta warn Matt,” Trip said, “and Hoshi.”

Soval nodded. “I will contact her at once, and in the meantime—“ he gestured at the datacards, “—let us discover what else Thalarek left for us.”

As the two diplomats wrestled with the stubborn codes on the computer, T’Pau drew Trip aside for a private conversation. “Lieutenant Commander—Charles—I need your assistance. It concerns T’Pol and Koss.”

He tensed at the name of T’Pol’s fiancé. “What do you need? All you gotta do is ask.”

“There is a private family gathering at T’Les’s estate tonight to celebrate her daughter’s return to Vulcan. Koss and his kin will also be there, in accordance with custom. Yet, I do not trust Soultek, Koss or the others of his family, and T’Les has spoken with me about her own doubts. She wants a Security detachment there to maintain decorum.”

“And you want me there to help keep an eye on things?”

“Yes. You have proven yourself trustworthy in my eyes and I would appreciate the assistance. I also believe T’Pol and T’Les would appreciate the extra support.”

“You have it,” Trip said firmly. “Just let me know what you and T’Les need me to do.”

T’Pau looked at him with a strange expression on her face, but then she nodded to herself and told him exactly what she had in mind.


Chief Engineer Phlox came into Engineering and stopped short at the sight of Ensign Jarvis Pryor at one of the consoles. The young man should have gotten off shift hours ago; instead, Pryor was riveted by the highlighted items on the status screen. The harsh florescent glare made his dark skin appear ghastly gray, but the look of concentration was such that Phlox felt reluctant to interrupt him. Nevertheless...

“Have you found a new pet project, Ensign?”

Pryor blinked in surprise and whirled around to face the Denobulan. “Sorry, Chief, I kinda got distracted. Actually, I was about to page you, but I knew you were talking with the Raquillian clutch of brother-engineers and the Vulcan specialists--“

Phlox raised his hand to stop the apologies. “I was, but the Raquillians called a break for their evening meal. We’re to reconvene in two hours, so I have time. What have you found?”

“This.” Pryor scrolled back up the screen and Phlox saw other highlighted passages. “Lieutenants Hess and Rostov wanted me to check out the code behind the warp intermix ratio safeguards. I said, sure, anything to get to the bottom of these malfunctions, and this program’s pretty much high priority.”

At Phlox’s nod, Pryor switched screens to show comparisons in the code. “At first, I thought this was just a coincidence, but look at these, Chief. Each written operation is accompanied by a certain prefix code. It’s only a few characters long, and it seems to be a normal command to execute its function.”

“The same code accompanies every piece of the program, even the subroutines,” Phlox murmured. “I’m no computer expert, but I might’ve assumed this was essential to its functionality.”

“It is, Chief. It prevents the warp intermix ratios from going to hell.” Phlox’s eyebrows shot up at Pryor’s statement. “The thing is, Chief, it doesn’t need to be there. It shouldn’t have been there, but the way the main programming’s been tampered with, it’s the only thing that’s keeping us from blowing up. Somebody knew of the faulty programming and tried to circumvent it any way they could, but it’s beginning to break down.”

The Denobulan muttered a curse under his breath. “How long until it breaks down completely?”

“Hard to say, but I’d figure less than a week.” Pryor’s face was grim. “Once it’s gone, we go up and make a new star over Vulcan. It’d be one hell of a statement to everyone.”

“Yes.” Phlox clapped a friendly hand on Pryor’s shoulder. “Good job, Ensign. I’m glad you transferred into Engineering. We need someone who knows the software as well as the hardware.”

“That’s why I’m here, Chief.” Pryor chuckled and shook his head. “I started out in computer science, but then I got interested in both the hardware and the software, so I ended up in computer engineering.” His flash of humor disappeared as quickly as it had come. “One other thing: now that we know it’s been tampered with, I’ve put a passive trace on whoever accesses the tampered programs for any reason. I came up with this.”

He hit a button and a short list of names appeared on the screen. Of course, Phlox’s was on it, as well as Lieutenant Commander Tucker’s, and Pryor’s. The three of them had reason to access the programs once the tampering had been discovered. Yet there was a name that sent a cold shiver through Phlox’s gut.

Lieutenant Richard Kelby.


Back to Part 2
Continue to Part 4

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