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"Green Ice"
Rating: PG-13 And again, Thanks, Pesterfield! :) Four I’m beginning to really, really hate the snow. I’m not sure which I hate more: the snow or the sand. Trip vowed to take his next shore leave in a place that had neither, maybe the rainforest or the hills. He waited until the walls stopped shaking from the aftershocks. When all was silent again, he clawed loose snow out of his face and sat up. The flickering lights threw everything into shadow, but he saw that the hall leading to the guest rooms was now blocked. There was no sign of either Vaeben or Mheia. “Vaeben!” he shouted. There was a groan next to him in reply and Vaeben sat up, brushing snow off his thermal suit. “You okay?” “It appears that the Elements are bent on eliminating both of us, Nveid,” he muttered through clenched teeth. A dry smile flittered across his face as he added, “I owe you a life-debt, my friend.” “Thought Vulcans didn’t put a lot of stock in superstition.” “It seems that every room and hall you occupy explodes around you. I would say the odds of that as a constant is highly improbable. Logic would say that you are either extremely unlucky or that some mystical being is quite vexed with you.” “Not my fault this place has lousy building inspectors,” Trip groused, but he smiled as he said it. For a Vulcan, Vaeben had an unusual sense of humor. He sighed as he realized Vaeben was trying to deflect attention off himself; if he hadn’t been used to it from both T’Pol and Malcolm, he would’ve let it go. “I guess you lean more towards the mystical being, huh?” The slight smile disappeared just as quickly. “My personal beliefs are hardly typical for Vulcans.” “You aren’t V’tosh Ka’tur, are you?” “Not exactly, though some members of my clan have such...leanings.” He shrugged. “I find it fascinating, but no, Nveid, I do not follow their radical beliefs. To know your enemy, you must think like your enemy. You know that as well as I do.” He glanced up as if hearing something that Trip couldn’t. “We must go. This storm is stronger than this building can handle.” “Wait a minute. Where’s Mnheia?” In reply, Vaeben’s communicator came back to life, and again Vaeben consulted with an unseen ally in that same language. This time, Trip concentrated more on the words. He was no linguist, like Hoshi or Jon, but he swore that he recognized some words. Perhaps it was some kind of special code among Vulcan Security’s operatives. He had to ask T’Pol. “She is looking for transport in the vehicle hangar. Come, Nveid. T’Phena is desperate now, and where she is, T’Pol will be.” Trip only nodded grimly and followed Vaeben through the corridors. They came to a lift, but the sound of grinding servomotors didn’t sound reassuring. Sounds like the mechanical parts are malfunctioning in the cold. If we don’t get outta here, we’re gonna freeze; thermal suits and oxygen masks won’t matter. Aloud he said, “No good. We gotta take the stairs.” Vaeben nodded and pointed at the access door with his chin. He wrenched open the door with amazing Vulcan strength, then took off down the stairs, leaving Trip scrambling in his wake. The man was fast, and now that they were in pursuit of their quarry, his concentration focused on the hunt. There was no hint of emotional lapse here; Trip could see him as a Vulcan Security Ministry operative. The armory officer approved of Vaeben’s silent movements, of his checking around every bend and corner, and of communicating purely by hand signals. Finally, they reached the lowest level of the Traders’ Complex, the vehicle hangar. The temperature was warmer than it was upstairs and the sounds of releasing docking clamps and active engines echoed off the walls. Obviously, the various traders and denizens of the Complex had realized their precarious existence and fled using any transportation they could find. The sound of gale-force winds thundered in the background, punctuated by the ominous creaking of support struts and walls. Trip pushed his way through the panicked crowd, but it was impossible to find anyone in this chaos. He managed to pick out Vaeben, with his silver hair and confident stride, but it was still difficult to keep up with him. A surge of people tried to force their way onto an open transport; one woman was there, at the front of the mob, pulling herself up into the vehicle. Trip forced his way to the open door and literally threw himself inside. Not a second too soon, for the door snapped closed, leaving the passenger compartment in darkness. Great. His stiff fingers fumbled at the belt of his thermal suit. I know I got a light here somewhere...Vibrations shook the walls as the transport took off. People shrieked and cursed as they were thrown around in the darkness. A weight knocked him on his back, making him lose hold of the pen light and he swore as he heard it roll to some dark corner. “Trip?” came the incredulous voice. He swallowed hard and whispered, “T’Pol?” She was glad of the darkness, so he could not see the green flush on her face. T’Pol lay with her head on his chest and she could hear the racing beat of his heart. She closed her eyes in utter relief for a moment. He is here. I was not imagining it. But why? She waited until her voice was steady, then she said, “You followed me.” He flinched, though her tone was devoid of any anger or irritation. “I wasn’t going to let you go by yourself.” “You have put yourself in a considerable amount of danger.” He hadn’t moved an inch, and neither did she, and in the confusion, no one could hear their conversation. She no longer felt cold, for a welcome warmth spread over her body. “T’Phena tried to kill you. You should not have come.” “She tried to kill you too and you can’t deny that one. I saw it.” “You saw my memory.” It was a question, not a statement. Her worst fears were confirmed, and now she trembled, despite her best efforts. “You saw what happened to me. You experienced it.” He was silent for a long moment, then he whispered, “Why am I gettin’ your memories, T’Pol?” Winds buffeted the transport and Trip reached up to hold her more securely. She wanted to tell him her suspicions, that they possessed some sort of mental bond, but something deep within herself was reluctant to acknowledge it. It shouldn’t be possible, but there it was. Instead, she asked, “What did you see? I will try to analyze it as best as I can.” He pitched his voice low, even though no one could hear them, and told her. She felt an eyebrow climb higher and higher as he described what he’d seen in his dream. It was as if a floodgate had opened within her, and his insight was the last piece of the puzzle. He described the room, the restraints that held him down, the chemicals that were pumped into his body. The pain. T’Pol felt his frustration and his agony, as though they were her own. “You underwent something similar on the Romulan ship.” He stiffened and was silent for a few beats, then replied, “Yeah. It was awful. They programmed me to take out Andorians.” T’Pol nodded. “You must have related to that particular memory, which is why you viewed it.” “Why didn’t you tell anyone, T’Pol? How could you bear it all alone?” It was her turn to hesitate. “Because...I could not remember.” “What?” Trip slowly sat up, leaning against the wall of the transport, bringing her along with him and not letting her go. “I think you’d better start from the beginnin’, darlin’.” Darlin’? He’s never called me that before. She shook herself, then began at the most logical place to start: the beginning. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard her. “My squad received information about a small band of V’tosh Ka’tur on Zora Prime. Their leader was selling information about the Vulcan Trade Commission and the High Command to the highest bidder. We were sent to apprehend the traitors and bring them back to Vulcan. The operation did not go as planned.” “T’Phena’s ambush.” “Yes.” T’Pol closed her eyes. “She was associated with the V’tosh Ka’tur even then, but hid her involvement even as she worked within the Security Ministry. She betrayed us all. The ambush in the ice caves killed the others, including T’Lydya...or so I’d thought.” Trip’s breath caught. “What? T’Lydya’s still alive?” “Not anymore. She was captured, but she did not survive the interrogation. I was the only one who did. They—the V’tosh Ka’tur—employed similar techniques that you underwent on the Romulan ship. It is logical to assume that there is a tangible link between the two now. The mosaics at the archeological site implied a connection, but now we have proof.” “God.” Trip was silent again as he digested this information. “So after they questioned you, they erased your memory. So for fifteen years, you believed T’Lydya, T’Phena and the others were truly dead. Then...how did you remember it again?” “She showed me and I saw it in her mind.” “She mind-melded with you?” “Without my permission. She has shown herself quite...adept at mental coercion. I assumed T’Marui had taught her the mind arts, just as she had offered to do the same for me on the Syklonian ship.” She felt a surge of anger from him, but not at her. It was directed towards T’Phena. “Why?” “She wants me to join her. We were close, Trip, both personally and professionally. Despite her actions, she still has...emotions for me, albeit twisted and bent. Over the years, she has become one of the V’tosh Ka’tur’s most skilled agents in espionage and disguise. She has also killed many people, whom the V’tosh Ka’tur have deemed a threat to their plans.” She took a deep breath and added, “When she tried to murder you, it was against their orders. They want you alive.” “So they sent their own squad after her. Vaeben’s squad.” “Vaeben?” She frowned in confusion. “He said he’d been a supervisor in your department when you were in the Security Ministry. He seemed quite concerned about your safety...” he paused, then added, “You don’t know him.” “Tell me what he looks like.” As he described Vaeben and his lieutenant, Mnheia, she felt a sick feeling in her stomach. “Yes, I know of whom you speak. At the time, his name was Vhadek. He trained T’Lydya, T’Phena and myself. The name, Vaeben, it is a derivative of the Old Vulcan for ‘sneaky one’. How appropriate for him.” “So he is V’tosh Ka’tur.” “Or he has infiltrated the group to gather information,” T’Pol objected. “He is loyal to Vulcan.” He was about to say something, but held his peace. T’Pol heard his words as if he’d spoken them aloud: Are you sure? You thought the same thing about T’Phena. Instead, he said, “Seems like they’re looking back into their history; even their language isn’t exactly Vulcan. This whole thing makes it even more important that we reach T’Phena first. She’s a vital piece of the whole damn puzzle.” “She took an earlier transport to the space dock above the planet. We must apprehend her before she escapes.” She straightened out of his grasp. It was so much like him to bring their attention back to the situation at hand. In this case, she was glad, for she was not prepared to address the unspoken bond between them. It should not have happened, but it did. So what should she do now? I must consult with Mother and the Priestesses of Mount Seleya. They will know what steps to take. Of course, there was always the possibility of dissolving this unwanted bond. After all, neither she nor Trip had desired it or expected it, and there were...unfortunate effects, should the bond continue. With an effort, she brought her mind back to the present. There would be time enough to deal with the mental connection with him. Right now, she must focus on her mission. Again, with uncanny insight, Trip whispered, “We’ve got to talk later, T’Pol, about this crazy thought-sharing. Promise me we will. I don’t want to leave this hangin’.” “You have my word,” she said softly. “We will address this, but not now.” “Fair enough.” He let her go as the rough voice came over the loudspeakers. They were arriving at the space dock in a few moments. She tried to suppress her rampant emotions under the veneer of a former Security Ministry agent, but it was difficult. At this rate, Trip was doing a better job at hiding his feelings than she, and he was not a Vulcan. We will address this, Trip, when this is finished. Now, it is time to continue the hunt. |
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