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"Reflections in the Mirror" Rating: PG-13 Author's Notes: Re: Captain Mayweather of Challenger. In “Whips, Chains and Plomeek Soup”, you still see him as Hoshi's XO and Science officer, but remember, the timeline was changed somewhat after Hoshi and T'Pol “fixed” it (sort of. That'll be explained later). Keep that in mind when you read the rest of the series from here out. Please leave a review! Thanks! Awesome edit, Pesterfield! Three T'Pol watched the battleground from behind the gates of the Vulcan Consulate. It was an apt description, for on one side of the street was a sizable group of Terra Primers, demonstrating with signs and chants. A second group had formed on the other side of the street, one composed of people with pro-Outworlder leanings. Both groups heckled and taunted each other, but it hadn't come to blows...not yet, anyway. T'Pol spotted a news flitter parked nearby; so this war of words was being transmitted to those who couldn't be present here. She shivered at the thought. Outworlder. I am curious to know who first applied that term to non-Earthers. Terra Prime, no doubt, but she was astonished at how quickly the name had become common. Yet there were signs of protest against the wave of hostility toward non-humans. Skon---he who was Solkar's son---had told her that the instructors at his school had banned the word from their classrooms. Some had withdrawn their children in disgust, but the majority of the parents allowed their children to stay, and in fact, supported the new policy. It was a quiet statement in these tumultuous times. T'Pol closed her eyes and reached out for Trip Tucker. He was back in San Francisco, assigned to Hoshi Sato's security detail after the attempt on her life. Trip's mental signature was unique, to say the least, and it took her a few moments to locate it. He was narrowly focused on a single goal, something to do with security, but she didn't know the details. Trip had unconsciously put up his mental shields so tightly that nothing leaked through. His talent had come so far, so fast that it surprised and concerned her. Another reason why Soval was so worried about our involvement with each other, she thought. Now she understood it, but she reassured herself that she had the situation well in hand. Someone behind her cleared his throat, and she turned to see one of Soval's minor aides. “T'Sia T'Pol,” he said, formally addressing her as “Lady”. “Ambassador Soval and Diplomat Archer wish to see you.” “I did not see them arrive at the Consulate,” she said, keeping the surprise out of her voice. “When did they come?” “Ten minutes ago. They used the matter transporter, not a private shuttle or flitter. T'Ladja thought it prudent that they make their arrival as quiet as possible, so not to cause a scene outside.” She nodded in agreement. “T'Ladja is wise. Very well, I will see Soval and Archer.” “Please follow me, T'Sia. I will take you to them.” She saw Jonathan first; it was difficult to miss him, with his height and hazel-green eyes so unlike any Vulcan's. He spotted her at the same time and hurried to her side. “It's good to see you, T'Pol.” “Jonathan. I am gratified to see you safe. Have you seen the demonstrations outside the gates?” He winced and nodded. “I have. At least you see both sides of the issues, and they're keeping it civil so far.” T'Pol shook her head. “Why do you allow such groups like Terra Prime to exist?” “Like it or not, T'Pol, they're entitled to their own opinion, even if they're not the same as ours. As long as they aren't breaking any laws, no one can throw them into jail.” Jon sighed and added, “Unfortunately, neither Starfleet Security or the civilian authorities can do anything at the moment.” “But if it were proven they were breaking the law---” “That's a different story.” He managed a smile at her nonplussed expression. “But until then---” “I see.” She did, but it didn't mean she completely agreed with it. Movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention. Soval was talking to Solkar, his aide, and as she watched, Soval's eyebrow lifted higher and higher at Solkar's report. His shocked surprise was so strong that even she felt it through the familial bond. Jon noticed it too. He asked, “Soval? What's wrong?” “Ah, Solkar was just telling me that an old friend needs to see me and Jonathan as soon as possible.” T'Pol heard in his tone that this “old friend” was more than that to him. “A diplomat?” “You might say that, but he is more than just a mediator. He is considered a---what is the Earth term? A 'troubleshooter'?” Jon took pity on her confusion and explained, “Someone who solves other people's problems and cleans up other people's messes. Not the most pleasant of jobs, but someone has to do it.” T'Pol wondered who this person was; she ran through the names of Soval's and Jonathan's staffs in her mind, but came up with no one who fit the description. She noticed Solkar standing nearby, waiting for her acknowledgement. “Del'haiu,” she addressed him, giving him the honorary title of “Elder.” Solkar bowed his head slightly to her and returned the courtesy. “T'Sia T'Pol, the newest reports of the archaeological digs on Beta Polaris and Sigma Takanos have been compiled. High Minister T'Pau would like your impressions on the information at your earliest convenience.” “Of course.” She glanced at Soval and added, “If you would both excuse me...” “Go ahead, T'Pol. We'll catch up with you later,” Jon assured her. Solkar escorted her out with “I have set it up for you on the computer in my office, T'Sia.”As he proceeded to give her a brief outline of the reports, she saw Soval's expression before she turned the corner. Suddenly, she had the distinct feeling that her attention was being diverted elsewhere. Why? It reminded her of the times he deftly deflected her wishes to meet Trip Tucker in the past, before they had been assigned to Enterprise. T'Pol resolved to ask Soval about it later, but now, she had other concerns to worry about. Jon followed Soval into a conference room, and he was surprised when Soval activated the security lock on the door as soon as they entered. “Why the secrecy, Soval?” he asked. “Because officially, I am not here,” said a clear baritone. Jon turned around and saw a Vulcan man leaning against the edge of the conference table in a clearly unVulcan-like manner. He wore traditional Vulcan robes in sandy brown with an overrobe of cocoa brown. Combined with his straw-colored hair and pale skin, he looked rather bland. Jon knew looks were deceiving, and if this man was indeed a “troubleshooter”, like Soval said, it was possible that he needed to stay incognito. There was something odd about the stranger, but Jon couldn't put his finger on it. He was able to read a person's emotional state, and this person was...bemused? In good humor? If a Vulcan could laugh...the man's body language told Jon that this was no ordinary Vulcan. “V'tosh ka'tur?” Jon asked, both fascinated and wary at the same time. “Or I'Rhiamanau?” His mouth turned upward slightly. “I can understand why you think I am of either group, but no, I am not. I applaud you on your caution, Diplomat Archer. My cousin Soval told me you could be trusted and he is never wrong in his assessments.” Suddenly, Jon realized where the nagging familiarity came from. “You remind me of someone I know, but who?” Now the man did smile, to Jon's astonishment, and that smile lit up his face. He closed his eyes for a few moments, then opened them again. Instead of brown, they were the blue of Earth's sky. How'd he change his eye color? Weird contacts? He's a chameleon? Jon flashed a confused look at Soval. “This guy's related to you in some way? But---” Jon turned his attention back to the smiling Vulcan. “Now I'm completely confused.” “It is a long story,” he said. “For now, you can call me Sorien.” Admiral Maxwell Forrest didn't scare easily, but the silence in the Earth Council chambers made him nervous. President Nathan Samuels sat in his usual seat, in front and to the right of the Council. Forrest caught the president's look of reassurance before Samuels resumed his “professional” look. Next to Forrest sat Admiral Jason Bronson, Head of Starfleet Security. The Welshman was just barely controlling his emotions, and Forrest didn't blame him one bit. The crap's hit the fan, big time. Samuels doesn't tolerate fools easily. The news of the attack on Hoshi Sato had spread like wildfire. She was still riding a wave of sympathy from the death of her husband, and the public clamored for the apprehension of the would-be assassins. That was Bronson's job, but the Head of Security was tied by red tape and bureaucratic nonsense, even more than his civilian counterparts. If Bronson had a choice, he would space half of the people in this room. The most powerful of Earth's politicians had front row seats, and directly opposite Forrest was Rita McGann, the current Head Speaker and Majority Leader. Unlike her other colleagues, she only glared up at Samuels. Forrest stifled a chuckle; he'd always mentally nicknamed her “The Wicked Witch of the West”, but never dared to call her that aloud. The Wicked Witch looked ready to send a horde of flying monkeys against Samuels, but the president towered over her in an obvious sign of his power. Samuel's bland expression made Forrest hold his breath. “Read off the voting,” Samuels said in a steady tone. There was no sound even from the press box, where hordes of reporters waited with baited breath. McGann scowled as she consulted the information on her datapad. Then she pressed a button and the huge overhead viewscreen lit up with the breakdown of the voting. “Proposition Sixty-Six: votes for this legislation, one hundred and two. Votes against this legislation, one hundred and twenty eight.” Most of the assembled delegates broke out in applause and cheering, but several got to their feet and raised their voices in protest. Forrest was tempted to sigh in relief, but caught himself in time. Still, he couldn't help the brilliant smile that flashed across his face. McCann saw it and turned her angry glare at him, as if he had influenced the voting one way or the other. Although he was head of Starfleet, he had no say in this civilian matter. He was here only because Samuels had invited him. “So the Council has determined. Proposition Sixty-Six has been defeated,” Samuel said simply. He raised his eyes to the journalists. “The people of Earth have spoken. Let it be broadcast all over the planet.” McCann flushed crimson. “I insist on a re-count, Mister President. After all, paragraph nine-fifty-five-A, lines one hundred and three through one hundred and sixty three clearly states that---” He made an abrupt gesture and she swallowed her protest. His tone was deceptively calm, but Forrest knew Samuels was furious. “Now, now. I'm quite aware that your fellow sponsors of the Outworlder Protection Act knew about the session and lobbied hard for its passage The other delegates made their wishes known; I can't argue with that. I abstained from voting, as is my prerogative, to make it fair. Your legislation will have to wait until the next session to be passed.” McGann stood up and said, “This isn't over yet, Nathan. You have no idea how serious the threat really is. If you're wrong, you will have the blood of billions on your hands.” He remained calm. “History may or may not prove me correct, but you aren't in charge of writing it. I advise you to step carefully, Majority Leader.” “Are you threatening me, Mister President?” The reporters in the press box eagerly waited for Samuels's answer. The rivalry between him and McCann was legendary; it made for exciting news vids when most days in the Council Chambers were uneventful. This was the stuff ratings were made of. “No threat, McCann, just giving you fair warning. If you have nothing to hide, then you shouldn't have any problems, should you?” Her icy glare didn't waver. “No. No problems at all, Mister President.” “Good. I'm glad we understand each other.” Forrest noticed that Samuels had referred to her by last name only, and that was not a good sign. He could count the number of times that Samuels was angry enough to spit nails, and each of those times was memorable, to say the least. Right now, the president was more than angry; he was downright apoplectic. McCann turned and stalked out of the chambers, followed by her clutch of supporters. Forrest watched with a sense of foreboding.. She was a dangerous enemy to have: intelligent, self-assured, and popular in the highest social circles of the political arena. She didn't care for Starfleet; in fact, she had tried to block the construction of the new Warp 6 ships. Forrest didn't like her, but at least he didn't have to deal with her on a daily basis. Samuels addressed the rest of the Council. “Thank you all for taking the time out of your summer holidays to decide on this important issue. We will reconvene in September for the Autumn Session.” He struck he desk with his gavel and said, “This meeting is adjourned.” Forrest had never seen a room clear out so fast, even at Starfleet HQ. The delegates were eager to leave this behind and he didn't blame them a bit. The press corps raised their voices in protest as Samuels issued a terse, “I will hold a news conference this evening; save your questions until then.” Forrest saw Earth News Network's Gannet Brooks at the head of the pack. She gave him a slight nod, which he returned as he followed the president to his private office. “Thank God that's over,” Samuels sighed as he sat down in his chair behind his desk. “Was I the only one who was biting his nails over that?” “No, sir,” rumbled Admiral Bronson. His voice reflected the president's relief. “I was also worried at how the vote would turn out. May I compliment you on your skills of persuasion?” Samuels chuckled and raised his eyebrow at the Head of Starfleet Security. “Bucking for a raise, Jason?” Bronson pretended to be offended. “Of course not, sir, but if you might be so kind...” The three of them laughed at the attempt at levity. Then Forrest sobered as he added, “We have more allies in the Council than we realized. That'll make things a lot easier.” “Indeed. For once, the majority of them understand what the consequences are, should McCann and her cronies gain the upper hand. Max, I'm convinced that they'll continue to cause trouble, in more ways than one. Did you assign guards to look after Captain Sato?” “I have Lieutenant Commander Tucker heading the detachment, Mister President,” Forrest replied. I wish we could be more active in the search for her attackers. This policy of “let the civilian security take care of it” is getting old really fast, especially with McCann in the Earth Security Ministry. As if Samuels had read Forrest's mind, the president turned to Bronson. “I hereby give you permission to go after the assassins, but tread carefully. If you follow the spirit of the law---” Samuels bared his teeth in a tight smile, “---those idiots on the Council won't be able to protest. I'll take care of their so-called 'special interests'.” Bronson snapped to attention, but his face betrayed his relief. About damn time, he seemed to say. “Thank you, sir.” “No, thank you. I should have listened to you and your staff earlier. Go on, Jason, you're wasting valuable time.” “Yes, sir!” Bronson shot out the room as if he had a photon torpedo at his back. Forrest stifled a laugh at the man's eagerness, not that he blamed Bronson at all. Apparently, Samuels shared the sentiment, for he did laugh out loud. Then Samuels's expression sobered as he said, “Max, I'm a fool, and I'm sorry.” “Not your fault, Nathan. You're doing well, considering the circumstances.” His smile was bitter. “I'm going to have my hands full staving off McCann and her supporters, especially once she finds out I've given Jason the green light to get involved in the investigation. We think she's protecting whoever's responsible for the attack on Hoshi, but I can't prove it, not yet. I'm hoping Jason will uncover irrefutable evidence over the matter.” “He's one of the best in Starfleet, Nathan. He'll get the job done.” Samuels sighed and changed the subject. “I understand the new Warp 6 ships are almost ready to go.” “Challenger's almost ready to do her shakedown cruise, with Atlantis and Intrepid to follow. Enterprise and Columbia are still being refitted. Even with Admiral Archer's and Captain Robinson's crews pulling triple and quadruple shifts, it'll still be several weeks until either of them is ready. Pravda and Discovery are in the preliminary stages of construction.” “Good.” Samuel's eyes were again clouded with worry. “I have the feeling that we're going to need all of them all too soon, Max. All too soon.” |
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