|
"Whips, Chains, and Plomeek Soup"
Rating: PG-13 We find out what’s going on with these Lurans...and Hoshi and T’Pol work together. One more chapter after this...please let me know whether or not you enjoyed this, and whether or not you’d like to see more stories about Captain Sato and her E crew. I’ll also be penning stories in the “real” universe too. Fourteen T’Pol sat comfortably on her mat and watched the others as they mingled with the Luran Council. Captain Archer was describing San Francisco to the Head Speaker, with Phlox interjecting every so often. Mu’ranex’s architects huddled around a table with Trip, showing him their plans for a new space center. Another small crowd cheered as one of their people hit the floor, the cheerful victim of one of Malcolm’s self-defense lessons. The Luran bounced back up and bowed to the fawh-der, who bowed back. Another Luran took his place and asked another question about the technique. “They seem to be enjoying themselves,” Hoshi commented, as she sat next to T’Pol. “And yourself?” “The Head Speaker’s wife is a linguist and she explained some idioms and expressions to me,” she answered. “Turns out that the Head Speaker was right about the speeches. They’re optional, not required, but they have more respect for you if you do it.” Hoshi winced. “In Captain Archer’s case, though, maybe it’s best left alone.” T’Pol nodded, a glimmer of humor in her eyes. “Indeed. I would not want a repeat of the Denobulans’ first contact here.” Hoshi stifled her laughter and took another drink out of the flask next to T’Pol. “Yes, definitely.” “I have been discussing a variety of subjects with the Lurans, including their views on quantum and Volian mechanics. They have been curious about other universes, Hoshi, to the point where they have been planning their own experiments.” The captain’s eyes narrowed at her words. T’Pol could hear the gears working in her head, then Hoshi said, “You mean, they’ve been messing with the dimensions?” “No, these Lurans have a code of ethics that they refuse to break. At least, most of them.” “Most of them,” Hoshi repeated softly. “Meaning that someone doesn’t want to play by the rules.” “Yes. We need to find who it is and stop him or her.” T’Pol got to her feet. “Let us investigate further.” The hours passed as Hoshi and T’Pol chatted and argued with various Lurans. Although the reception hall was light and airy, with a grand fountain as its focal point, T’Pol found the atmosphere stifling, even for a Vulcan. The Lurans didn’t seem affected by the heat and the humidity. She saw Hoshi wipe sweat from her forehead, so T’Pol knew she wasn’t the only one affected. Hey, T’Pol, think we can step out for a sec? I’m not feelin’ too well. Trip’s mind-voice sounded slurred, as though he’d been drinking. Her concern spiked as she felt a wave of dizziness overcome her, and she realized it was Trip who was dizzy. She turned and stumbled in his direction, and nearly collided with him as he met her halfway. He leaned against her with alarming weakness. Drugged, Trip thought, as he fought to hang on to consciousness. There was somethin’ in the food and drink, T’Pol. They’ve drugged us! Stay with me, thy’la, she commanded. Don’t lose consciousness or we will both be lost. Archer? Reed? Phlox? I dunno. I didn’t see ‘em. His concentration was shaky, even with T’Pol’s assistance. If I’m bein’ hit this hard just lookin’ over buildin’ plans, then...Trip shook his head. Malcolm was doin’ some kinda martial arts demo... T’Pol forced the fatigue from her mind as she looked at the other side of the room. Hoshi knelt by Malcolm’s side; the Armory Officer’s eyes were closed and his breathing labored. Archer was next to Hoshi, his tall frame trembling. Phlox frowned at something on his medical scanner. The Denobulan passed it over Hoshi and Archer, then the frown turned into a grim scowl. It looked unnatural on his normally pleasant face. He snapped his head towards the Head Speaker. The Luran wore a slight smile, his teeth exposed. “What did you do to them?” Phlox demanded. “Just a...minor inconvenience,” Mu’ranex replied, his voice a low purr. “Do not worry, Doctor, the toxin moves swiftly and it will be painless...mostly.” T’Pol felt a surge of anger through her; it cleared her mind, but her reflexes were slow. Trip launched himself at the Head Speaker with a rage that gave both of them strength. Mu’ranex raised his hands to defend himself, too late, as Trip slammed directly into him. T’Pol saw the other Lurans snap out of their paralysis and went in to assist Trip. One of Mu’ranex ‘s ministers grabbed Hoshi by her hair and jerked her backwards. Her startled cry shook Malcolm out of his stupor. He swung the wakazashi outward, its blade connecting with the minister’s leg. The Lurun yelped and let go of Hoshi. She drove her elbow into another Luran’s stomach as he reached for her. “I have the antidote,” Phlox said, as a Luran handed him several hypodermic needles. “Your arm, Subcommander.” He injected her with one of the needles, then administered the antidote to Archer. T’Pol felt the clouds over her mind dissolve. She accepted another hypodermic from him and headed towards Trip. “Hoshi...next,” Malcolm whispered. He’d fallen back into her arms, too exhausted for anything else. Phlox glanced at Hoshi, whose face was ashen. “Hold his arm still, Ensign.” T’Pol grimaced as she waded through the fray of Lurans. The Head Speaker snarled as two of his fellows held him fast. She ignored him as she knelt next to Trip. His presence was a thin thread in her mind, close to breaking, and she caught it and held it to her. T’Pol murmured her apology as she administered the antidote and felt his mental cry as the needle broke his skin. “They should die!” a voice screamed over the chaos. “The Gods demand it! We shall not fail in our mission!” T’Pol glanced up as the Head Speaker’s wife broke free of her captors and threw herself at Hoshi and Malcolm. Her long nails raked across Phlox’s cheek as she streaked past him. Then she heard the jangle of bells, saw Hoshi’s arm snap forward, as she threw Archer’s ahn-woon in defense. Somehow, Hoshi had managed to grab the ahn-woon off the captain’s belt and use it. The leather band wrapped around the Luran’s neck, the chimes striking her directly in the face. Hoshi bit her lip as she pivoted, taking the woman off her feet. And the ahn-woon snapped with a loud crack! A blinding light erupted in front of T’Pol, knocking her backwards against the wall. The impact dazed her; her knees failed to hold her upright, and she slid into a heap. She fought her way back to her knees. Her right hand felt something on the floor in front of her. Her ahn-woon. Intact. What has happened? T’Pol shook her head, still stunned. Then she heard a familiar—yet unfamiliar—voice in her head. That damned son of a—he’s gonna hurt the captain! “What—?” Her body moved of its own accord, forcing itself to her feet, then her hands manipulated the ahn-woon, throwing it outward and upward. It caught something soft in its folds, and as she jerked it backwards. The object she’d captured spasmed, nearly tearing the weapon from her hands. She stumbled and fell. A gentle hand supported her shoulders. “You all right, darlin’?” “Trip?” she asked weakly. She pressed a hand to her forehead, ignoring the pain in her right shoulder. Her shoulder had been wrenched terribly. “He won’t hurt anyone again,” Trip said, his voice grim. She looked up at him, at the familiar blue eyes, the chains on his chest, the empty knife sheaves on his arms... Chains? Knife sheaves? T’Pol snapped her head towards the front of the Hall. The Luran High Chieftain lay twisted, the ahn-woon around his neck, two knives buried in his chest. She dropped her end of the weapon and rushed to the unmoving bodies at the front of the Hall. Trip followed her, pausing next to the shattered maroon jewel beside the body. . Jon Archer shook his head and glanced around him. “What the—?” A Luran approached him and started talking to him rapidly. He said, “Looks like we’ve got a—change in leadership, here, Captain...Captain?” “Hoshi!” T’Pol shouted. She groaned and struggled to a sitting position, but the body of Malcolm Reed covered hers. Her movement seemed to rouse him and he managed to pull himself off her. T’Pol stared at Hoshi, dressed in the black sleeveless dress, the red silk cape crumpled under her, the black hair in a perfumed cloud over her face. “Malcolm?” Hoshi whispered. “Are you—“ “I’m in one piece,” he replied with a half-smile. He brushed the curtain of hair back so she could see him. “Are you all right?” She stared up at him as if she’d never seen him before. Then with a sob, she buried her face within his chest. His eyes widened, then he glanced at T’Pol and Trip with a perplexed expression. “Doctor Reed?” T’Pol asked cautiously. He raised an eyebrow, the gray eyes sparkling. “Thank you,” he murmured. She nodded and gave an inaudible sigh of relief. Trip grinned and muttered under his breath, “About damn time they figured it out.” |
Like it? Hate it? Just want to point out a typo? Join the discussion now.
Disclaimer: Star Trek in all its various forms and its characters are the property of CBS/Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended by the authors of this site, which is solely for the purpose of entertainment and is not for profit. This site is owned by CX and was opened to the public in February 2008.