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"Green Ice"
Rating: PG-13 Thanks, Pesterfield! ;) Seven Trip’s estimate of the Vulcan Security Ministry went up considerably as he worked side by side with Vaeben’s people. While Vaeben and T’Pol analyzed scans of the Zora Prime system and its spacedock, Trip and Mnheia compiled more than two decades’ worth of intelligence information that Vaeben’s squad had gathered during their lonely mission. Mnheia reminded him of T’Lydya: stiff and professional on the job, but dryly humorous and witty when she was away from prying eyes. “Erie’Aendah?” (Sub-Major?) Mnheia looked up at the young woman standing in the doorway. The girl—Trip estimated her age at perhaps thirty or forty Vulcan years, a mere girl in those terms—tried not to openly gape at Trip, but he ignored the rampant curiosity that radiated from her. “Ie, Erie’arrain?” Mnheia asked with a raised eyebrow. (Yes, Sub-Centurion?) The two launched into a short conversation. Although Trip didn’t understand a word of what was said, he read Mnheia’s body language. The younger woman was obviously lower in rank, but there was a hint of arrogance in her stance that irritated Mhneia. It reminded Trip of the son of a high-ranked Terran diplomat, who’d had the “I am morally superior to you” attitude toward the Security assigned to protect him. Trip didn’t like it then, and he certainly didn’t like seeing it now. Mnheia, to her credit, handled it like a professionally seasoned officer. “Khnai’ra, Erie’arrain,” she said. The younger woman snapped to attention and bowed her head, then turned and left. Mnheia took a deep breath and addressed Trip. “Forgive me, Nveid. She is the communications officer, but she aspires to be much more.” “Ambitious and having an attitude problem?” he guessed, allowing his disapproval to show in his tone. A dry smile turned the corners of her lips. “That is a concise description of her. Her elders are highly placed, and so she believes she is worthy of their praise.” “Politics. Gotta love it.” “Unfortunately, it seems to be a universal constant, no matter which world you are from.” She activated her computer screen and said, “Ta’rhae. Hnafirh’rau. I believe we have a transmission from someone familiar to you, Nveid.” “What?” He looked over at her screen and gasped as a familiar face came onto the screen: Commander Travis Mayweather’s features were unwontedly serious, which meant something had happened in the two weeks he and T’Pol had been away. Travis wore Boomer clothing: a dark brown shirt about three shades lighter than his skin, with a black vest adorned with various patches. “Trip, I hope this gets to you in one piece. Don’t have much time, so I’ll be quick. I’m hitching a ride with my brother on the Horizon; Paul needs a few extra hands and I volunteered. The captain and her husband had their first official argument, Phlox’s in rapture over his new toys, and the doc’s been acting a little weird.” Travis shrugged and rolled his eyes. “I’ll be in Draylax for the next thirty-six hours, so you need to drop me a line, or I’m gonna have a fit, and you know I’m not such a nice guy when I’m mad. Give T’Pol my best and I’m looking forward to hearing from you.” Travis’s image vanished to be replaced by the message’s routing information. Trip frowned as he realized the message had been re-routed through five points in the Boomer network, after Horizon, then through Shi’Kahr, of all places, before finally being beamed through Vega and Alpha Centauri and finally arriving at Aegis. Trip understood going through the Boomers and the Colonies, but Vulcan? “Can’t anyone have a private conversation anymore?” Trip muttered under his breath. “I bet the Vulcan High Command and the Security Ministry read my mail.” “You learn not to take privacy as sacred,” Mnheia reminded him. “Word your reply with caution, Nveid. There are those with large ears and prying eyes.” He nodded. “Thanks for the reminder, Mnheia. I’ll remember that from now on.” Trip spent the next hour formulating his reply, making sure that Travis, and only Travis, knew what he was really saying. I’m hitching a ride with my brother on Horizon...the captain and her husband had their first official argument...Phlox is in rapture over his new toys...the doc’s been acting a little weird. In so many words, Travis had said that he was assigned as Trip’s back-up, just in case. Hoshi and Matt Hayes were at odds over Starfleet’s orders, Phlox had managed to improve on Admiral Archer’s designs, and Malcolm...well, Trip knew there was something going on before he’d left, something to do with Malcolm and the Vulcan Medical Academy. Was the Englishman feeling pressure from his colleagues there concerning his obligations to Enterprise? Considering the Vulcans’ paranoia after Enterprise and Columbia’s run-in with the Romulans, it wouldn’t have surprised Trip. After all, Malcolm was one of the Vulcan Medical Academy’s star physicians, even if he was Human and not a Vulcan. When Trip finally sent the message on its way, Vaeben poked his head into the information center. The older Vulcan’s face betrayed his eager excitement and again, Trip wondered if the years of being away from his home planet had eroded Vaeben’s emotional control. Mnheia glanced up from her board with a look of disapproval. “We have her,” Vaeben announced, “and she is willing to talk to us.” Trip was already halfway out of his seat. “She is? Does she want to talk to all of us, or does she just want T’Pol?” “She is talking with T’Pol at this very moment, and we are close to making an agreement on when and where to meet.” “Lead the way, Vaeben.” As he followed Vaeben, he noticed Mnheia’s expression had turned into one of dreadful apprehension. Mnheia looked downright worried and Trip didn’t blame her. This was going to be crucial and if T’Phena decided to betray T’Pol now...Trip was going to make sure he kept his head down and stayed out of the way. T’Pol sat in near darkness and regarded her foster sister on the comm screen. T’Phena sat in a similarly darkened room, her eyes untouched by madness for once. Neither woman said anything at first; they simply regarded each other, like two chess masters over a board. “So you have thrown your lot in with Vaeben, then, my foster-sister?” T’Pol raised her eyebrows as she felt a thread of amusement from T’Phena. “He told me that you would only talk with me, T’Phena. I only took the opportunity that was given. So now, I am talking with you.” T’Phena chuckled and nodded in approval. “You have changed little, foster sister. Have you considered the truth that I have shown you?” “Yes, I have seen and considered the gift you have shown me. It appears we have a common enemy, T’Phena, one that I had overlooked in the past.” T’Pol chose her words slowly and deliberately and kept the mental connection open. This was a critical moment; if T’Phena was convinced of her sincerity, she could maneuver her way into T’Phena’s confidence, just like she’d done in the past. “I am not your enemy, T’Pol. I hope you understand that.” “I was not referring to you, foster sister. I was referring to the cowards in the Vulcan High Command.” T’Pol allowed her anger to surface for a brief moment, and was rewarded by T’Phena’s smirk. “They are cowards who refuse to acknowledge the truth in front of them. I refuse to be manipulated by them any longer.” “Then you will join me?” “Tell me when and where to find you and we will talk in person. I would much rather hear your words from your own lips, and not filtered through...other channels.” T’Pol’s mouth went up in grim humor. “I grow weary of the lies and the twisted meanings of others.” T’Phena nodded and tapped something on her desk. T’Pol’s screen split into two, with T’Phena’s image on side and a set of coordinates on the other. “Rendezvous with me here in twelve hours, T’Pol. I look forward to seeing you.” “Alone?” “Bring your companion, if you wish. He is an important link to Earth and Starfleet, the only one we have present at the moment. If you can convince him to join our cause...he might be a valuable ally to have on the other Earth ship. We already have one we can trust, close to Columbia's captain.” “We have allies on Columbia?” T’Pol carefully hid her surprise at this revelation. Of course...how could the Romulans know exactly whom to take from Columbia? Someone close to Captain Hayes...who? There were no Vulcans on Hayes’s ship, so... T’Phena nodded. “All will be revealed in due time, T’Pol. Meet with me and you will know what I know.” “Very well. I will be patient. In return, I expect you to be as open and truthful as I have been with you.” “Only with you, T’Pol. No one else.” T’Phena raised her left hand in the ta’al. “Until later.” “Until later, foster sister.” T’Phena’s face vanished, leaving T’Pol in darkness to contemplate their conversation. All she could hear was Malcolm Reed’s clipped British baritone, as he said the words, “Silik said that Captain Hayes is not long for this world...not to envy him in the time he has left.” Matthew Hayes was in mortal danger, and had been for a long time. She had to warn Hoshi Sato, but how? “Tucker to T’Pol. You all right in there?” She took a deep breath as she felt a wave of concern come through the closed door of the room. Somehow, Trip knew she was unsettled about whatever T’Phena had told her. She sent a wordless reply of reassurance before she replied aloud, “I am all right, but I will need assistance in an important matter.” “Just say the word and I’ll see what I can do.” “We need to send a warning to Columbia as soon as possible and as quietly as possible.” “Quick and quiet. Okay, that I can do.” “I still disapprove of this action, T’Pol,” Vaeben said for the hundredth time. He crouched next to her as she familiarized herself with the controls of Mnheia’s sleek vehicle. “I still wish you would consider at least taking myself of Mnheia as a guard.” “T’Phena will not reveal herself if you are present,” T’Pol pointed out, her patience strained by her mentor’s constant barrage. “I will have Lieutenant Commander Tucker with me.” “I know that Nveid will take care of your welfare. He does have an emotional attachment to you, T’Pol. T’Phena sees it, I see it, and I am gratified that you do now as well.” She took a deep breath. “Is it obvious to everyone who can see?” “No, just to those who bother to look.” Vaeben gave her a rueful expression. “You are lucky; a perfect balance is impossible to achieve. His Fire to your Ice...I must admit to a hint of envy for your good fortune.” “I must point out that even if this connection refuses to fade away, I am already betrothed.” “Ah, Soultek’s son. This is the first time you have even mentioned him to me. I think you know Surak’s truth, as unlikely as it seems.” Vaeben shrugged lightly. “And T’Pol, he is not completely blameless for his actions...even Koss finds himself manipulated by other forces.” She winced; she and Trip had formulated a plan to feed Koss misinformation about Enterprise’s movements and T’Pol had agreed to it without a second thought. I can be as ruthless of a Security agent as Vaeben, or Mnheia or T’Phena. It is a part of me I thought long dead, but I find myself slipping into this role as if I had never left it. This is disturbing, more disturbing than I even dare to admit to myself. “Yes, you are correct, as usual.” T’Pol sighed and caught herself about to run a hand through her long blonde hair. Another one of Trip’s habits and she was appalled at how naturally she had adapted it as her own. “I will take your advice under serious consideration, Vaeben.” “That is all I ask, T’Pol. You are not a child anymore, as much as this old man wishes to believe it.” The fondness crept into Vaeben’s tone again. “Well, I see that Nveid is ready to join you. Go with Surak’s grace and Kholairh-a deleth mnehver.” “Thank you, my old friend.” T’Pol nodded at Trip as he slipped into the co-pilot’s seat next to her. “Is all settled, Trip?” “As far’s as it can be,” he replied. He turned to Vaeben and regarded the older man with a perfect Vulcan eyebrow. “I’ll take good care of her, Vaeben, don’t worry.” Vaeben grinned, and the sight of it took both of them aback. “I have no doubt about that, Nveid.” Fifteen minutes later, Vaeben watched as T’Pol guided the small scoutcraft out of Aegis’s bay. He sighed as it flew out of sight, then stiffened as he felt a presence over his shoulder. The communications officer stood uncomfortably close to his back; he took an extra step as he turned to face her. “Ie? Fvah’lla?” (Yes, what now?) “Auethn qiuu mnek’nra?” Her tone was quiet and deferential, but her innocent question of “Is all well?” had a sharp, sarcastic edge to it. “Ie, Khnai’ra. Urroyo oira.” (Yes, thank you. I will be on the Bridge.) The woman nodded, then inclined her head toward the now closed cargo bay door. “Ssuej- ay t’hlim havam? Ahrrein’firh, Enarrain.” (Do you know that Human? Have a care, Captain.) “Ssuej-ay thlom?”(Don’t you know me better?)His voice was bitter. “Khnai’ru rhissiuy. Thank you, I have everything under control, Arrhae. You need not write my obituary yet.” “I am concerned for you, Enarrain. You have always allowed your feelings of nostalgia to cloud your view of the situation.” “Rest assured that my ‘feelings of nostalgia’ have a purpose, Arrhae, and you can tell the I’Rhiamanau that this particular servant has not forgotten his obligation.” Vaeben’s smile was not pleasant at all. “As for your ‘concern’, refocus it where it truly is needed, Susse-thrai, or I shall refocus it for you. Ssuej’d’ifv? Do you understand?” Arrhae jerked away as if she was burned. Vaeben rarely ever had to resort to vulgarity to get his point across, and his calling her a “she-wolf” meant that she’d pushed him farther than was prudent at this time. She nodded and lowered her eyes. “Th’lhom veherr’a, Enarrain. Forgive me, Captain.” “And tell your masters that if they lay a hand on T’Pol, or Nveid, then they will regret the day they decided to overstep their boundaries. They may consider me a yyaio, a dead one’,a full-blooded Vulcan, but this old man has some life in him yet.” Vaeben jerked his head toward the exit. “Get out of my sight, llaudh, before I have you scrubbing every plasma port on my ship without an environmental suit.” Arrhae fled without another word. Vaeben stood there for a moment, willing his heart to slow and the angry bronze-green flush to fade from his face. Despite his brave words, he knew it was only a matter of time before his I’Rhiamanau keepers caught up with him, and he needed to ensure T’Pol’s safety long before the inevitable. |
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