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"Calm Before the Storm" by Lady Rainbow Rating: PG-13 for language. Pairings: Hayes/Sato and TnT Thanks, Pesterfield! :) Seven In over thirty years with Starfleet Security and Starfleet Intelligence, Captain Mark Harris had seen all sorts of criminals. He’d dealt with petty thieves and con artists, violent despots and homicidal maniacs. The Ripper of Rigel gave him scars and nightmares for life; the so-called “Emperor Daucus of Saishen Four” redefined Harris’s own definition of “psychopath”. Of course, that didn’t include dealings with the Orions, Syklonians, Nausicaans, and other unsavory elements. Nothing really surprised him anymore. At least, until now. Terra Prime was once a small, isolated group; worth keeping a close eye on, but not needing a lot of attention. Its sudden popularity both shocked and angered him. And now, it had become personal. “We’ve questioned the mechanics and workers at Tokyo Spaceport,” Commander Oksana Nechayev told him. The young, blonde Russian woman’s tone was as icy as the steppes where her family lived. “Five of them admitted to receiving unusual work orders for KYT 1147, about three days before the scheduled flight. The crew leader questioned the orders, but was told to implement them anyway.” Harris scowled at the viewscreen and kept his own voice steady. “Who told them to implement them?” “Eric Duvall, the Chief of Shuttle Operations at Tokyo Spaceport.” Nechayev’s mouth quirked upward in an unsmiling smile. “Duvall, in turn, said that he’d been overruled by Jun Kiroyashi, the Operations Division Chief.” “And Kiroyashi?” “Dead. In his office. Left a note saying that he’d dishonored his clan and his company, and would apologize with his life. We’re tracking his connections now. It seems that he’s gotten a lot of monetary support from several ‘charitable sources’. One of them appears to be a ‘Colonial Relocation Charity’, run by—“ “John Frederick Paxton,” Harris said. He gritted his teeth. “So he’s decided to be a multimillionaire philanthropist this time out?” “He’s been good for fifteen years, Boss,” Nechayev reminded him. “Ever since we basically mind-wiped him clean. Paxton’s been invaluable to Earth’s push into the stars. Remember, he’s the one who convinced the Vulcans to allow Admiral Archer to do his warp field tests.” Harris gave her a sour look. “I know, I know. He’s got plenty of high-powered people in his back pocket, including Henry Archer. That makes this really complicated.” He massaged his temples. “Matt Hayes is gonna be furious when he finds out.” Nechayev pressed her lips together. “Are you going to tell him, Boss? I’m not sure that’s going to be a good idea. Hayes is more likely to stuff Paxton into the mind-sifter and pull the lever again, and if Paxton’s actually innocent this time—“ “I know; all we’ve got is circumstantial evidence and that’s not good enough.” Harris leaned forward and pinched his nose as if it hurt him. “All right, I’ll keep my mouth shut for right now. Hayes already has too much going on...his fiancee’s been hurt and his wedding’s in limbo.” Nechayev sighed and rolled her eyes. “That idiot Gardner wants to kick Hayes and his crew into space early.” She muttered some choice expletives under her breath in Russian, and despite himself, Harris smiled. She was still a romantic at heart, and Gardner’s orders were not popular among the Fleet. “The man’s never been married, and I know why: what woman would want to be with such an old dried-up prune?” “Oksana!” Harris choked out. “Pravda,” she shot back. “I have it on good sources, Harris, that he actually scares off potential mates.” He burst out laughing. Oksana Nechayev’s droll sense of humor was also quite truthful, even if it was uncomfortable to hear. When he finally wiped his eyes and caught his breath, he noticed her quirky smile. “I needed that,” he gasped. “God, I really needed that.” “Spasiba,” she replied, without even waiting for him to thank her first. “But the problem remains, Harris: what can we do to help our good friend Hayes? I may have had disagreements with him in the past, but he’s still one of us, even if he sometimes disavows any knowledge of us.” He inclined his head and thought for a moment. Then a slow smile spread across his face. “I believe I might have an idea, Oksana. Here’s what we’ll do...” Matt Hayes wasn’t without his own resources. He called in a few favors and burned a few bridges, but he found a familiar name in the information Starfleet Security had given him. He scowled as he gazed out the window of Hoshi’s hospital room. She slept peacefully now; the various medicines and painkillers kept her as comfortable as possible. More than one doctor had commented on Hoshi’s amazing constitution. She was definitely on the mend, but would not be released from the hospital before Columbia was deployed again. So he’d been forced to tell his mother that the wedding would probably be delayed indefinitely. So he was not in the mood to see this name mentioned in these reports about Terra Prime. John Frederick Paxton. Up to his old tricks again. I guess some things just can’t be erased from someone’s personality, no matter what you try. Paxton had been a self-made millionaire, clawing his way from poverty to the top of the financial world. Unfortunately, his ruthless tactics had cost a whole Earth Colony their lives and livelihood, and had left a string of unsolved murders. The “fortunate” ones lived in dementia for the rest of their lives. Paxton had later planned the assassinations of Ambassador Soval and Diplomat Jonathan Archer in the Vulcan Consulate, but was foiled by Hayes and Tucker. After that, Paxton was adept at avoiding capture. Until Harris, Hayes, Tucker and a few others put a stop to Paxton’s reign of terror. Paxton’s punishment was...unusual in the extreme. Starfleet Security’s experimental mind-sifter needed a test subject, and Paxton became its first one. And to everyone’s surprise, it seemed to work. Paxton had made an amazing turnaround and became one of Earth’s most outstanding citizens. Hayes snorted. Unless he’s been one hell of an actor for the past fifteen years. I wouldn’t have put it past him. So why has he returned to his old organization, Terra Prime? That isn’t a smart thing to do. “Matt?” He smoothed out his expression and glanced over his shoulder at Hoshi. She sat up in bed, looking at him intently. “I didn’t mean to wake you up, Hoshi.” “You didn’t wake me up. For once, I feel pretty clearheaded from all the drugs they’ve pumped into me.” She smiled and reached out a hand; he came over to her side. “Working as usual?” “Just some stuff from Security. Nothing important.” He accepted her hug and held her close, as if she was made of breakable porcelain. Deep inside, he vowed to find Paxton and stop him, once and for all, for what he’d done to the woman he loved. “What you have proposed is intriguing, Lieutenant Commander, but will that not be falsifying official Starfleet reports?” “Nah, we won’t be falsifying anythin’, T’Pol. We’ll just agree on what to tell the High Command,” Trip pointed out. He glanced at the closed door of her hospital room, then at the black box sitting on her dresser. Trip had borrowed a “little piece of equipment” from Matt Hayes, one which enabled him and T’Pol to talk about this in privacy. She lay back among her pillows and frowned. “Ah. So if Soultek decides to verify the truth, it will bear up under his scrutiny.” “Right. We’ll double-check it with Hoshi and Admiral Bronson at Starfleet Security, but I don’t see why we can’t do it this way.” Trip shook his head and sat back in his seat. “Lemme get this straight: this Soultek guy is effectively your father-in-law?” “No,” she objected, her voice more forceful than Trip had ever heard it. “No, he is not my father-in-law. I am betrothed to his son, Koss; I have been since I was seven years old. We are not yet married and will not be until this crisis has been adequately resolved.” “That might be a while, T’Pol. And till then, Soultek and Koss are basically in the driver’s seat, as far as controlling your future.” That left a bad taste in Trip’s mouth. How in the world did T’Les allow her daughter to be joined with a snake like Koss? It just didn’t make any sense to him. Her mouth trembled, but she nodded. “Yes. They are influential in the High Command, second to Minister T’Pau. Koss’s family is traditional and have a long, distinguished line in the defense of Vulcan. At the time, my mother believed they would be adequate for a suitable family.” Trip snorted. “Tradition. I should’ve known.” T’Pol’s eyes flashed, but he raised a hand. “Look, I’m not knockin’ tradition. It can be a great thing to have, a guide for your life. But sometimes, even the stiffest tradition’s gotta change.” “I agree. Tradition would say that Humans are illogical, rampantly emotional and unsuitable for companions.” Trip blinked and tried not to choke at the words. She’d said them utterly deadpan, so he’d been ready to defend Humanity’s greatest qualities. Then he caught the slightest glimmer of humor in her eyes and the arguments died in his throat. Damn the woman, she’s good. I nearly fell for it. Instead, he reached for his PADD and said, with greater dignity, “Well, we can start on the first report, if you’re up for it.” Major Nathan Kemper laughed as Lieutenant Liz Cutler finished her latest story. He breathed a sigh of relief; she seemed to have bounced back from her harrowing ordeal. Liz’s broken arm had been set and regenerated, and her bruises were barely visible. The doctors called her “extremely lucky” that she’d gotten away with relatively light injuries. His communicator went off and he gave it an annoyed look. Liz scowled at it too. “I thought you’d turned it off,” she said. “I did.” He pulled it out and opened it. “Kemper. I’m a little busy here. Can you call back later?” “Actually, no,” came the dry tone of J.T. Daniels. “Not this time.” There was an edge to Daniels’s voice that worried Nate. “Is there something wrong, Commander?” “I have a mission for you, sent directly by your MACO superior, Colonel Amanda Hayes.” Nate gulped, and Liz turned pale. He gave her a worried glance. Hayes? She mouthed. Related to Captain Hayes? He nodded, then said formally, “Very well, sir. What is the mission objective?” Daniels chuckled, then went on, “Your objective is to delay your immediate superior officer and his fiancee until the ‘wedding relocation unit’ has set up its command base.” Nate heard the quotation marks. “You are authorized to employ any and all assistance necessary to achieve your objective. We understand that you will not be responsible for any injuries, arguments or disagreements that may stem from this assignment. Will you accept this mission, Major Kemper?” A silly grin passed over Nate’s face. Liz clapped both hands over her mouth and tried to stifle her laughter, but he was sure Daniels had overheard. The executive officer’s voice was equal parts sarcasm, humor and bewilderment. In other words, typical Daniels. “I accept the mission, sir. The parameters?” “At least twenty-four hours. The hospital has agreed tolet us use their Chapel, and the Sato and Hayes families have begun the relocation. And a classified detail—“ Daniels lowered his voice, “—Doctors T’Les and Reed are enroute from Vulcan. Their ETA is Monday evening.” Nate choked off a whoop of delight, while Liz clapped her hands together with a bright grin. “Acknowledged, Commander. We won’t tell Ensign T’Pol or Captains Sato or Hayes.” “Thank you, Major. Daniels, out.” Nate snapped his communicator shut and glanced at Liz. “Not a word about—“ “I didn’t hear it.” Liz’s smile was brilliant and erased some of the pain from her face. “Y’know, Major—“ “Call me Nate. Trip does.” “Nate. Y’know, we can employ the two in the next room as part of the Wedding Relocation Unit.” “Exactly what I was thinking.” He got to his feet and knocked on the door separating Liz’s room from T’Pol’s. There was a pause, then Trip opened the door. “Hey, Trip, we need your—and T’Pol’s--help for a very unusual mission—“ |
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