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"Calm Before the Storm" by Lady Rainbow Rating: PG-13 for language. Pairings: Hayes/Sato and TnT Thanks, Pesterfield! :) Six "He what?" Doctor T’Vau took a step backward in the wake of High Minister V’Lar’s exclamation. V’Lar hadn’t raised her voice, but the Healer felt a scorching wave radiating from the High Minister. T’Vau thought, Her response is illogical. I had thought she’d wanted Doctor Reed back on Earth to attend Captain Sato’s wedding. In fact, she was quite upset when he had said he was not planning to go. V’Lar recovered from her emotional outburst. “Forgive me, Doctor T’Vau, but Doctor T’Les has also left abruptly for Earth, most likely on the same flight. She professed concern for her daughter’s safety.” “T’Pol?” T’Vau swallowed a surge of fear. They’d all heard of the altercation concerning the Humans, Tellarites and Andorians. V’Lar had issued a warning to all Vulcans on Earth to take prudent precautions and a stern plea to refrain from retaliation. If something had happened to T’Pol... “Perhaps Doctor Reed had felt a shift around him,” T’Vau said carefully. “He is sensitive to that and it might have spurred him to take action.” “Perhaps. Reed’s instincts have never failed us before—“ A heavy knock on the door interrupted V’Lar. She nodded and called, “Enter!” Again, an unexpected person stalked into the room. “Koss. I assume you have heard—“ Koss’s face was hard stone, but his dark eyes were furious. “Where is T’Les? She had agreed to meet me and my father for the formal addition to the marriage contract—“ V’Lar stared at him in shock and contempt. “You have not heard, then.” “What have I not heard?” “Doctor T’Les and Doctor Reed left early this morning for Earth. T’Les felt a change in her bond with her daughter and elected to rush to T’Pol’s side. She left before I could speak to her, much less you or your father.” Koss’s face turned emerald green, then with an effort, he regained control. T’Vau studied his expression as she deliberately opened her mental shields. The anger and irritation she felt from him washed over her, and she was forced to raise her shields again to protect herself. T’Vau had read enough of him to deepen her own disgust of the young man. He is more concerned about the bride price than about T’Pol’s safety! What a greedy fool! T’Vau didn’t hide her loathing for Koss, for Soultek, and for the rest of their kin. Why in Surak’s name did T’Les agree to bond T’Pol to this ruthless man? V’Lar must have felt the same emotions from Koss, for the High Minister only stared at him. Then V’Lar slowly got to her feet and advanced on him. To his credit, Koss didn’t retreat, but only stood his ground. The two were about the same height, so they could look each other in the eye. “When T’Les returns, I will formally petition the Elders of Mount Seleya to dissolve your betrothal bond with T’Les’s daughter,” V’Lar said, each word colder than the Andorian wasteland. “You have proven yourself unworthy of such a mate; your emotions betray you. T’Pol deserves one more worthy of her.” T’Vau started; so did Koss. He only glared back at V’Lar. “You cannot do that, V’Lar. The laws are specific: any interference with a betrothal or marriage bond is punishable by death. Even you are not exempt from the law, High Minister.” V’Lar’s mouth turned upward in a shadow of a grimace. “A physical or psychic attack on a bond is punishable by death, Koss, but there is no punishment for a request for a formal dissolution, if there are suitable grounds.” Koss smirked. “T’Pol would never agree to a dissolution. You do not know her as well as you believe, V’Lar.” “We shall see.” The High Minister gave him a curt nod. She added, “Get. Out. Now.” Koss bowed mockingly. “Your wish is my command, my Lady.” He left without a backward glance. V’Lar waited until he left, then she took a step back and sat abruptly on the edge of her desk. T’Vau was at her side immediately. “My Lady, I insist that I take you to the Medical Academy. Your readings are erratic—“ “I will be fine.” “V’Lar. You do not need to put your own life at risk,” T’Vau argued, “not for that whelp. As for your threat...you will be setting a dangerous precedent. Koss and his father have great influence in the High Command; they will attempt to circumvent your authority.” The High Minister raised a sardonic eyebrow and replied, “Do you think they have not already started doing so? T’Vau, they have been for nearly three-quarters of a decade.” The Healer stared at her, stunned again by this revelation. Her logical mind pieced together events she’d heard about and witnessed. “T’Marui and her conspiracy...” “Yes.” V’Lar closed her eyes, then opened them again. “I have suspicions that some of the ones affected may not be completely recovered—“ Suddenly, her body jerked as if under some kind of impact, her right hand clutched her lower right side— T’Vau leaped at her and caught her before she collapsed, her elbow struck the comm at the same time. “Medical emergency in Lady V’Lar’s chambers!” Pain coursed through T’Pol’s side as she opened her eyes. She found herself gazing up at the ceiling instead of the floor...no, wait, that was the floor, for she was suspended upside down, held in place only by her seat straps. The shuttle had tumbled over on impact, and had finally landed on its roof. Sirens wailed all around her and the rough voices of rescuers echoed all around her. “Ma’am? Ma’am? Can you hear me?” T’Pol turned her head to see a young man standing directly under her. He couldn’t be more than twenty Earth years old, perhaps even younger than that. She recognized the caudeus, the twisted pair of snakes that denoted a medic, on his shoulder patch. “I am...functional,” T’Pol whispered through dry lips. Another stab of pain made her amend her statement with, “for the most part.” “Don’t move, ma’am. We’ll get you out of there. Are you hurt?” “I have pain in my lower right side...” “Show me.” After T’Pol did, the medic frowned. “You may have bruised your liver, ma’am. Stay as still as possible. I’m gonna get more help.” “Sir—“ “It’s Martin, ma’am. You don’t have to call me ‘sir.’” “I am a Vulcan, not a Human.” A wave of nausea overcame her, so strong that it left her gasping. Martin reached over and gripped her hand. “And where a Human’s liver is—“ “—is a Vulcan’s heart,” Martin finished grimly. He glanced over his shoulder and yelled something that T’Pol didn’t hear, for nausea hit her again. Then he turned back to her, and added, “We’re going to take good care of you, ma’am. By the way, what’s your name? I feel kinda awkward calling you ma’am all the time.” “My name is T’Pol.” Martin’s eyes widened briefly. “T’Pol? On the Enterprise? An honor and a pleasure to meet you, ma’am...um, T’Pol. Sorry. I must sound like a kid right now.” She tried not to chuckle; she didn’t point out that in Vulcan terms, he was a child. “That is quite all right, Martin, for it is understandable.” “May I ask you a question...do you know a man named Doctor Malcolm Reed?” “Yes, he is our chief medical officer.” She almost smiled at the hero-worship in Martin’s eyes. “You admire Doctor Reed, do you not?” “I’ve been reading his research...he’s such a brilliant man.” Again, Martin caught himself before he began rambling. “Will you—“ “I will mention your name, Martin. Doctor Reed will be flattered that he’s had a positive influence on one so young—“ she broke off into another spate of coughing, and a drop of verdant blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. T’Pol’s vision wavered for a moment... ...and when she came to, she was on a stretcher on the LAS runway. Martin was still at her side, holding her wrist, frowning at something. T’Pol managed to organize her thoughts enough to ask, “My traveling companions...are they all right? I have not seen either of them—“ She must really be in shock; that should have been the first question to ask. “They’re alive, last I heard. The one sitting next to you...I think her name was Ho-shee-ya or something like that—“ “Hoshi. She is Japanese.” “She and your other friend were taken to USC Hospital, which is where we’re going now.” Martin listened to something on his radio, then said, “Okay, you’re next. We’re gonna get you on an ambulance. T’Pol, is there any next of kin we can contact? Let them know you’re all right?” She managed a nod. “Ambassador Soval at the Vulcan Consulate in San Francisco...and—“ she hesitated for the briefest of moments, “Lieutenant Commander Charles Tucker. You can reach him through Starfleet Headquarters.” “Consider it done, T’Pol. I’ll get in touch with both of them.” “Thank you,” she breathed. She closed her eyes as she felt herself lifted into a vehicle. T’Pol tried to begin a healing trance, but she was so tired, so tired...With an effort, she slipped into the trance and knew nothing else. “Holy—“ Matt heard a string of expletives from the back seat of the hovercar. He snapped his head over his left shoulder to see Trip Tucker doubled up in pain, his hand pressed against his right side. Major Nate Kemper slid an arm around Trip before he passed out. “Trip? Trip? C’mon, talk to me, buddy.” Nate swore under his breath. “What’s wrong?” “M’side—hurts,” Trip gasped. “Sharp, stabbin’ pain. Just came outta nowhere.” He took a deep breath and straightened up. “Still there, but it’s died down a bit. Hurts like hell, though.” “Please tell me it isn’t appendicitis,” groaned J.T. Daniels. “Can’t be. I don’t have my appendix anymore. Can’t explain it even if I tried.” Trip’s voice sounded stronger, even though his face was still pale. Matt shook his head. “Keep an eye on him, J.T., Nate. If we need to stop, we’ll stop.” His voice was tight with tension. Before they’d left Headquarters, Matt had received a transmission from an “old friend”. Mark Harris told him plainly that there was a leak somewhere in Starfleet Security’s network. They’d narrowed it down to a few people, but it was impossible to pinpoint who it was. One of them had been shadowing Hoshi in Tokyo; Harris personally took steps to protect her. One of those steps was changing Hoshi’s civilian shuttle flight to a later time. Matt had flown into a rage when he’d realized that Harris’s “help” had actually put his fiancee in mortal danger. “No one knew about the switch,” Harris said bluntly. “I didn’t tell anyone and I did it at the last possible moment. Somehow, someone found out about it. The first flight, the one Hoshi was originally on, had a stopover in Hawaii. It took off from Oahu Spaceport...and fifty three seconds later, crashed back on the runway.” “So it wouldn’t have mattered which flight she’d been on...they sabotaged both of them,” Matt said in a clipped voice. “They wanted to make sure she was killed in the crash.” “I’ll find out what happened and where she is now,” Harris promised. And sure enough, five minutes later, Harris had called back and told Matt she was at USC hospital in Los Angeles. It meant a three hour hovercar ride, a close to 400-mile trip one way. Unfortunately, Los Angeles Spaceport was as confusing as its predecessor, LAX, and their transporters were only rated for cargo and luggage. Matt had drafted Travis as driver; Nate and Trip refused to stay behind in San Francisco. Travis nimbly avoided a series of transports on the main artery and got off the exit lane leading to USC Hospital. Matt brought up a map of the area and highlighted the way. “Thanks, Matt. It’s bad enough that people can’t drive around here—“ Travis muttered. Trip gave Nate a long-suffering look and Nate only rolled his eyes. Somehow, Travis managed to snag the last remaining hovercar space on the upper parking deck. Another driver honked his horn in anger, threw up his arms and let out a stream of invectives before screeching away. “I’ve never heard that one before; I’ve got to remember that,” Nate remarked, breaking the tension among the men for a brief moment. Matt laughed so hard he leaned against the hovercar passenger door. Trip asked in an undertone, “What’d he say?” “You don’t wanna know,” Travis replied. After several hours of waiting, wrangling and worrying, the nurse entered the waiting lounge. She nodded at Matt and said, “Captain Hayes? She’s asking for you.” “Is she—?” “She’s awake now, Captain.” The nurse glanced over at Trip. “Lieutenant Commander Tucker, we’ve located Ensign T’Pol. She’s currently out of surgery and is resting comfortably. Lieutenant Cutler is in the room adjoining the ensign’s.” “I’ll check in on Liz,” Nate said. “You two go on.” “Thanks, Nate.” Matt gave him a smile, then followed the nurse, while a second nurse directed Nate and Trip. Trip, he noticed, was favoring his left side as he walked. The first thing Matt noticed was how pale she was. Her long black lashes rested on her cheek, and the only part of her visible above the blankets were her head, shoulders and one arm, where an IV line was attached. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he sat in the chair next to her and reached for her hand. She opened her eyes and whispered, “Hey.” “Hey yourself,” he whispered back and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m here. Rest now. We’ll talk later.” She nodded and slipped back into sleep. Matt managed a smile and settled back for a long night. She was in a healing trance, so he knew she was unaware of his presence. Trip pulled a chair by T’Pol’s bed and watched her sleep. He brushed a stray strand of long blonde hair from her forehead. It had been closer than they’d liked; a young medic named Martin had updated him on the injuries she’d suffered... Then he noticed her hand pressed against her right side, as if it still hurt her. Trip started when he realized it was the exact same spot that bothered him. He sat back in the seat, shocked at the implications. How can that be possible? I’m not Vulcan, I’m not psychic, how can I be feelin’ what she’s feelin’? I mean, to the point where I’m hurtin’ where she’s hurtin’? Then he reached over and put his hand on hers. T’Pol sighed in her sleep and relaxed considerably; he couldn’t help but smile in relief. The questions could wait until later. |
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