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"Mistake" by A. Rhea King
Rating: PG13 CHAPTER 2 Trip fell to the floor. With his hands still bound behind him, he painfully jarred his shoulder blade when he hit the concrete. His face was bloodied and swollen from the beating Reace was putting him through, but he refused to answer the Sorh’s questions. Reace circled Trip, his wings lifted high and rattling as they shook. “I know you know more about Vulcans, Commander. Just tell me what you know and I’ll let you go.” “I don’t know anything about them,” Trip snarled. “I think you’re lying.” “Then don’t think!” Reace picked up a glass of water from a table and lowered down, setting the glass in Trip’s line of sight. Trip stared at the clear liquid. He was thirsty, but he knew that asking for it came with a price. That didn’t stop him from salivating at the sight of it. “You’ve been in here for two days, Commander Tucker, with no food, no water. You must be very thirsty and hungry.” Trip closed his eyes, focusing on something other than his need. He smiled, even laughed, at the memory his mind chose to focus on. “What’s so funny?” Trip rolled onto his back, staring at Reace’s ugly face. “Back home we got bugs that look just like you ugly suckers. They infest my parent’s yard toward the end of summer, and my dad and I used to spray the grounds. They’d fell like rain. When it comes down to it, Reace, you’re just as easy to kill as those damned grasshoppers.” Reace leaned in, holding the glass of water over Trip. “But those grasshoppers wouldn’t eat you alive, now would they?” Reace grabbed Trip’s mouth, pried it open, and poured the whole glass in his mouth. He clamped his hand over Trip’s face, cutting off air through his nose and holding his mouth shut. He leaned his knee on Trip’s throat to prevent Trip from swallowing or inhaling. Trip squirmed. His panic rose fast when he realized Reace was going to force him to drown or suffocate. Reace suddenly lifted his hand, smacking the back of it across Trip’s face, and knocking him unconscious. Reace reached down, peeling flesh from a gash on Trip’s cheek. He examined it and then popped in his mouth. He smiled, licking his fingers. “My wife and I will enjoy you, human.” Reace stood, leading the Sorh out. The door shut and the lights were turned off. # T’Pol typed at her monitor, watching the replies as they came in. A picture of Trip came up on her screen and she stared at it a moment. His disappearing for one day was normal, but he always contacted her or Archer if he was going to be longer. It gave her reason to be concerned. She glanced back when the doorbell beeped. “Enter,” T’Pol said. Archer came in, sitting in the chair next to her. “Are you having any luck?” “No. None of the Vulcans I’ve contacted have seen him. Did you speak with the Chief of Protection?” “Yeah. The Sorh could care less that he’s missing.” T’Pol looked at him. “You did not provoke them, did you?” Archer shot her a ridiculing glare. T’Pol turned back to the screen, beginning a letter for another contact. Both of them looked up when the doorbell beeped. Archer got up and answered it. A Sorh messenger stood in the hall. “Commander T’Pol?” the messenger asked. “I’ll take it for her.” The Sorh handed a data disk over and hurried off. Archer returned to the terminal, handing T’Pol the disk. She slid it into the slot next to the monitor and tapped a control. An audio file began playing. A recorded voice spoke, “Commander T’Pol, you will follow these instructions exactly. If you fail to do so, Lieutenant-Commander Tucker will be returned in pieces. You and Ambassador Sukal will be expected at the Dravek Hotel bar at twenty-one hundred hours. Don’t be late.” The recording ended. Archer and T’Pol looked at each other. “Who would want Ambassador Sukal or you?” Archer asked. “I don’t know. We should alert the authorities.” T’Pol reached out to touch a control. Archer grabbed her wrist, stopping her. “No. I don’t trust them and that Chief of Protection could be in on this.” “Captain, the Sorh--” “T’Pol, no.” “Your discrimination is putting Trip in unnecessary jeopardy.” “T’Pol, I am not discriminating against them! I don’t trust them. Everything about them is off. And maybe you don’t think the reports of the violence happening here is anything to worry about, but I do. I sense a revolt on the horizon here.” “A revolt against whom?” “Vulcans.” “And how would detaining Commander Tucker aid a revolt?” “I don’t know. Contact Ambassador Sukal, arrange a meeting.” “He is not going to turn himself over.” “A meeting with us, T’Pol.” T’Pol opened her mouth to argue with Archer. He laid his hand on her shoulder. “I have a plan. You have to trust me.” T’Pol’s eyebrow lifted. # T’Pol followed Ambassador Sukal down the street, glancing at him. “We should not be doing this, Captain,” T’Pol said. “If they want Sukal, they’re going to get Sukal,” Archer said under his breath, breaking the illusion of the Vulcan persona. “Trip’s captors will never believe you are a Vulcan, Captain. You do not act like one.” Archer stopped, sidestepped just slightly so T’Pol had to stop or run in to him. He looked down his nose at her. “I don’t appreciate your pessimism, T’Pol. We will successfully negotiate Commander Tucker’s release.” T’Pol sighed, saying quietly, “Then let’s hope that Ambassador Sukal remains at his estate until we contact him.” Archer nodded his head just slightly and the two continued walking. They came to the Dravek Hotel and walked into the lobby area. The hotel was richly decorated and filled with a variety of aliens. The two walked toward the hallway leading to the bar. “Stop,” a voice said and both felt phase pistols pressed into their backs. “Turn to your right and walk into the kitchen. Don’t speak to anyone, don’t look at anyone. You will exit the kitchen and get into the hovercraft waiting outside. Move.” Archer and T’Pol obeyed, careful to avoid eye contact as they walked. They exited the kitchen and spotted the hovercraft sitting in the alley. The back door was opened and they got in. Two Sorh got in and shut the doors. “Where’s the human?” Archer asked. “Safe. For now.” The Sorh pulled black sacks over T’Pol and Archer’s head. Archer felt the hovercraft move, then a Sorh grabbed his wrists and tied them together. He suddenly hoped he’d actually thought this plan through. # Reace turned, hearing footsteps approaching. He watched the Sorh lead Archer and T’Pol into the room, shove them into chairs and pull the sacks off their heads. Archer looked up at Reace and had to consciously remind himself to suppress his surprised expression. Reace smirked. “Ambassador Sukal.” “Did you not agree to a trade?” Archer asked. “Where is the human?” “In time. After you do exactly as I say.” “I will not negotiate with you until your prisoner is released.” Reace and the other Sorh laughed, their wings lifting upward in anger. Reace suddenly punched Archer in the face, sending him to the floor. He landed his foot in Archer’s gut and Archer bit back a cry as pain raced across his ribs. He looked up at Reace when the Sorh crouched down. “You, Ambassador, are going to convince the Vulcan High Command to pack up every last Vulcan on our planet and in our system, and LEAVE! This is our planet. We were here long before Vulcans were even intellectual. While your race was trying to kill itself, we were terraforming the planets of this solar system to make them habitable. Your race has no claim here!” “I hardly think they’ll listen to me. Nor will they listen to a faction that is not supported by it’s own government.” Reace grabbed Archer’s arm, hauled him to his feet and led him over to a monitor. He tapped the screen and it showed a riot outside the Vulcan embassy. He pointed at it. “Who do you think asked us to get you, Ambassador? Our Liege has ordered all Sorh to pick up arms and revolt. We’re sick of your presence, and your attempt to control our people, and civilize our children.” “Reace,” a Sorh said, walking into the room. Reace looked at him. He motioned Reace to follow him, looking Archer up and down as he did. Reace pulled Archer back to his chair and left. Archer closed his eyes a moment, swallowing. “Ambassador?” T’Pol said. “I will be fine.” They heard someone running and Reace burst into the room. He stormed up to Archer, reached out, and ripped off the ears Phlox had painstakingly put on Archer. Archer’s stomach sank. Reace punched Archer in the face again, knocking him out of his chair. Reace grabbed his arms, throwing him against the wall. With his breath knocked out of him, Archer sunk to the floor. He watched Reace walk up. “You are as stupid as your Commander! They just killed Ambassador Sukal in his home, where he was waiting word from you about the safe recovery of your crewman.” “We don’t have any quarrel with you! I just want my officer back. Whatever problems you have with the Vulcans, holding us isn’t going to fix it.” “What about HER!” Reace yelled, pointing at T’Pol. “She has been my science officer for years. She doesn’t know anything about what’s happening here or have any sway over the Vulcan High Command.” Reace leaned into his face, gnashing his incisors at Archer. “I find that hard to believe.” He turned and grabbed T’Pol, jamming a phase pistol against her head. “You are going to get up, you are going to walk where you’re led without a fight, and if you try anything, I will kill your science officer who knows nothing.” Archer slowly pulled himself to his feet. A Sorh grabbed his arm and led him down the hall into a dark room. The light was turned on and he caught his breath when he saw Trip lying in the middle of the room, bloody and badly beaten. T’Pol stumbled into the room beside him. For a moment the two could only stare at Trip: the sight not processing right away for Archer, T’Pol struggling to keep her emotions in check. “Untie me,” T’Pol said, turning her back to Archer. He turned his back to her and worked her ropes loose. T’Pol turned, quickly untying his. “Take off your robes. We need to cover him and clean the wounds.” T’Pol ran over to a table and grabbed the pitcher, checking to make sure it had water in it. She ran to Trip’s side, kneeling down. She began working the rope binding his bloody wrists. Archer pulled off his robes, revealing his uniform. He draped two over Trip when T’Pol had freed him and started tearing the last one into rags. “I really called it wrong, didn’t I?” Archer asked T’Pol. “You had no way of knowing they were going to attack the Ambassador’s home.” “Yeah, but I--” “Captain.” He looked up at her and then down as she covered Trip’s hand with her hand. She was with the man she cared for and she didn’t care about anything beyond that. He nodded, telling her, “Let’s get these wounds cleaned and bandaged.” |
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