Forwarded by the ASC-VSO 
Posted: 6 Jan 2004 09:32:43 -0800  
In: alt.startrek.creative 
From: shouldknowbettertt@yahoo.co.uk (shouldknowbetter) 
 

Title: Illicit Trade
Series: ENT, Second in Series
Begins with "A Logical Proposal" "Illicit Trade" is second
in a series of 10 stories.
Part: 2/3 Story 6/34 Series
Author:  Shouldknowbetter
Email:   shouldknowbettertt@yahoo.co.uk
Rating:  PG13
Codes:    Tu/T, all Enterprise characters, eventually, Forrest and
Soval, action, angst, drama
Summary:      An accident in Engineering leads Enterprise to investigate



ILLICIT TRADE 

Part Two


"I don't like the look of this place."  Reed was looking round
suspiciously, appraising the customers of the drinking establishment.

"It's just a bar, Malcolm."  Tucker tried not to sound irritated but
failed.  He hadn't wanted to come, but Archer had leant on him until
he had given in as he always did eventually.  He didn't agree with his
captain's assessment that he was working too hard, but he had
recognised the invitation for the olive branch it was.  Their
friendship had almost disintegrated after the severest bollocking
Tucker had received in his long association with Archer and it hadn't
been helped by the fact that, for once, Tucker knew he hadn't been at
fault.  If Archer was attracted to his first officer, it was none of
his chief engineer's business, and neither was it cause for a
reprimand for over familiarity.  He had acted like a perfect gentlemen
towards T'Pol when she had been ill and it wasn't his fault she had
been so confused that she had pushed Archer away and clung to himself
instead.  But now Jon had made a peace offering and Trip had always
been a sucker for peace offerings.  It would be good to have his
friend back, particularly if …

"Here."  Archer appeared out of the crowd, handing over a couple of
bottles and keeping one for himself.  "It sounds as if it might be
beer," although he grimaced as he tried a sample.  "Tastes as if it
could be something else."

Conscientiously, Reed set his bottle aside.  "Do you think we should
stay here, sir?  It doesn't look too safe to me and we're not armed."

"It's just a bar."  The captain echoed Tucker's comment of a moment
before.  "Relax, Malcolm.  Want me to make it an order?"

"No, sir," but the armoury officer continued to survey his
surroundings and not in the manner of a man checking out the local
talent.

Archer shook his head briefly in amused resignation and turned his
attention to the other man.  "That goes for you too, Trip.  You've
been flat out in Engineering for the last five days.  If you don't
want me to tell Phlox you're ignoring his orders, you'll take a
break."

"I thought you'd already told him."  Tucker set down his untouched
drink and rubbed his immobilised left arm, wincing.  "He keeps
nagging."

"Not me.  Is that still painful?"

Self-consciously, the engineer pulled his right hand away. "Yeah, I
guess."

"I thought that mushroom compound the doctor gave you pretty much
deadened everything."

"I stopped taking it.  Couldn't think straight and the dreams were
weird."  A few had involved Enterprise's science officer and Tucker
definitely didn't want that sort of dream.  He was already far too
fond of T'Pol for his peace of mind and he wasn't going down that
route.  Not with Archer looking that way himself.  The handsome,
resourceful, stable captain just had to be a much more logical choice
if T'Pol wanted that sort of relationship with a human and they had
been spending a lot of time together over the preceding weeks.

"You should have said."

"I did!"  A look of hurt crossed Archer's face and Tucker relented. 
"I told you I didn't want to come, Cap'n, but you didn't exactly drag
me here kicking and screaming, did you?"  He swallowed some of the
drink to be friendly and pulled a face at the taste.  "That's weird. 
Hey, Malcolm, relax, will you?"  If he brought the captain's attention
to the fact that the armoury officer was still on surveillance, it
might take the heat off him for a few minutes.  "Have a drink."

As anticipated, that prompted the inevitable, "I don't drink on duty,"
earning Reed a frown from Archer although the Englishman failed to
notice, still scanning the room.  "Sir, I think we should leave."

"Why, Malcolm?"  Archer sounded mildly irritated.  He didn't often get
to spend time with Tucker off the ship.

"I think there's trouble brewing.  See that group by the door? 
They're looking for a fight."

"Well, we're not.  Don't worry; that's an order.  So, Trip," he turned
back to his friend, teasing, "I've heard this place specialises in
some pretty exotic forms of entertainment.  Feel up to investigating a
few?"

"Exotic, huh?"  Tucker had contrived to swallow enough of the non-beer
to cheer himself up a trifle.  There were plenty of other women out
there and none of them had pointy ears and a hard stare.  "Think they
can live up to Amsterdam on a Saturday night?  Now that's exotic."

Malcolm drifted away as the other men continued to rag each other. 
Archer and Tucker had known each other for so long that, quite
unintentionally, they tended to exclude everyone else from their
conversation once they got going.  Plus Malcolm always found the
concept of an off-duty captain a little unsettling.  Plus there was
going to be trouble whatever the others thought, equals Malcolm had a
duty to see that his fellow officers remained safe.  So he casually
edged closer to the door and none too soon either as the fight he had
predicted broke out.  A member of one group shouted a bit too loudly
at another, a few drinks were thrown, then a bottle, then the two
sides closed with each other and shortly after, in Malcolm's opinion,
the fight was going to become general.  He turned to head back to his
colleagues to urge them again to leave, accidentally jogged someone's
drinking arm and a moment later a punch was thrown at him that he had
to block and then he was in the thick of the fight.  Damned unfair! 
He had time to see Archer shoving Tucker into an out of the way corner
then he had to duck a few more uncoordinated blows; good thing he was
sober and the rest of the clientele were not.

Malcolm had just about managed to worm his way to the edge of the
fight when a small scream made him glance sideways to where a very
drunk male was trying to pull up the skirt of a rather attractive
young woman.  They weren't obviously part of the general brawl but
Malcolm's blood was up and he didn't believe he was stretching the
point too far to tap the man's shoulder and then drop him with a
well-timed punch to the ear – or what passed for an ear.  The woman
gave him a doubtful look as he backed her towards a wall but went
where he indicated, a boot disposing of another couple of drunks. 
"Sorry about that," Malcolm muttered once they were in a small island
of calm and he had time for embarrassment.  "I hope he wasn't a
friend."

"A client."

"Oh."  More embarrassment.  "I … uh … I …"

Suddenly she smiled and she was rather more than attractive.  "Please,
don't apologise again.  I can do without that sort of client."  She
took a practised glance around the bar.  "I believe this latest
escapade may be over.  Let me buy you a drink to demonstrate my
gratitude and you can tell me all the latest news from home.  It's
been a while since I met a fellow human."

"Oh, um…"  Malcolm briefly wished that Tucker was around to help him
out then rapidly revised the thought as the woman's smile widened.  He
didn't want the other man's easy charm on view at all.  "That's very
kind of you."



Tucker's fist contacted the rear of Archer's shoulder with rather more
force than he had intended.  "I can look out for myself, you know!"

"When you're stiff, sore and one-handed?" his friend countered then
half turned back as the fighting seemed to subside as quickly as it
had arisen.  "Don't get defensive, commander, I was only thinking of
Enterprise.  Don't want my chief engineer out of action again."

"Sure!" Tucker growled in response, not deceived in the slightest and
peered past his captain.  "Where's Malcolm?"

"Probably enjoying himself."

The engineer grunted in reluctant amusement.  "Yeah.  That guy really
gets off on a fight.  Idiot!"

"Captain Archer.  Commander Tucker."  The smooth voice drew the
attention of both men and they turned to find themselves addressed by
the resident Vulcan physician.  "I trust you are both unharmed?"

"We're fine, thank you, Doctor M'Lek."  Archer had snapped
effortlessly into diplomatic mode.  "I'm surprised to find you away
from your enclave."

"I appreciate the stimulation of meeting new people, new races.  Very
few of my species have had the opportunity to study yours … closely."

"You should talk to Sub-Commander T'Pol," Archer suggested.  "She's
had the opportunity the last year or so.  I'm sure she could fill you
in."

"Indeed."  M'Lek was watching Tucker.  "You seem to know a great deal
about Vulcan customs, commander.  Are you and T'Pol very close?"

Tucker flushed, both angry and embarrassed.  "We're friends!  She's
told me a few things."  Usually when he had inadvertently butted into
her private and very complicated affairs.

"Fascinating.  Do you know how rare that is, Commander Tucker?  Our
customs are not for out-worlders to know of."

"I don't repeat confidences."

"And rarer still for a Vulcan to trust a member of another species."

"I think T'Pol's learnt that she can trust Enterprise's crew," Archer
cut in, not entirely sure where the conversation was going but aware
of Tucker's growing anger and his own dissatisfaction.

"Commendable … on both sides.  But I prefer to draw my own
conclusions."  She turned her cool, assessing gaze onto Tucker again. 
"Would you join me for dinner tomorrow, Commander Tucker?  I believe
there is much we might learn from each other."

"I don't think that's gonna be possible, doctor."  Tucker was backed
into the wall.  "I've got a whole lot of work on just now."

"Oh, go on, Trip."  Much to his friend's annoyance, Archer was
supporting the woman's suggestion.  "You need a break.  An evening off
Enterprise'd do you good."

"Excellent."  M'Lek took Tucker's acceptance for granted.  "If you
come to the Vulcan enclave at 1700 your time, I will await you.  Good
evening, Captain Archer, Trip."

She glided away and Tucker cast Archer a disgusted look.  "Gee,
thanks, Cap'n.  I really needed that!"

"Ah, come on, Trip, what's your problem?  She's damned attractive. 
I've never known you turn down a date with an attractive woman
before."

"She's Vulcan!"

"So?  You like T'Pol, don't you?"

"No!  Not that way!"  That was a road he definitely wasn't travelling.
 "We're friends."  Friends could still spend an evening together; as
long as the other person never realised how much effort it took to
keep it purely friendly.

"Then just be friendly with M'Lek."



Malcolm was having a wonderful time.  It was ages since he had been in
the company of a lovely woman with a sense of humour who wasn't part
of the command structure and therefore off limits.  He had quite
forgotten that brief ‘client', right up until the moment when she laid
down her empty glass and stepped right up to him, placing a hand on
his chest as her voice seemed to drop a full octave.  "Wouldn't you
like to continue this elsewhere, Malcolm?"

"Oh."  He gulped, embarrassed all over again.  "I … I don't really
care for … um …"

"Bought sex."  Her expression hardened as she stepped back and his
face contorted.

"I'm sorry.  I didn't mean …  I'm sure …"

She gave him a pitying look.  "You're right, Malcolm, I am a whore. 
I'm sorry if I offended you.  Goodbye."

"Wait."  He bounded after her.  "Look, I didn't mean I thought …  It's
just …  Could I buy you dinner?"

She halted, studying him carefully.  "Now why should I let you do
that?"

"So I can grovel and apologise some more?"

Reluctantly a smile pulled at her mouth.  "You might persuade me, Lt
Reed.  What other inducement can you offer?"



T'Pol was at the docking port to meet Archer, Tucker and Reed when
they returned, her expression disapproving as she met Archer's
enquiring gaze.  "I heard that there was trouble on the station.  I
trust you are unharmed, captain?" and if Charles had been hurt, she
would hold her captain personally responsible.  She had been carefully
composing a logical argument for why it would be unremarkable to
suggest to Tucker that they ate together that evening and then Archer
had got in with his invitation first.  Charles hadn't even wanted to
go; she had witnessed a part of their argument on the subject.

"We're all fine, sub-commander."  The captain brushed off her
question.  "Anything to report?"

"Nothing."

"I'm for bed, then.  ‘Night, people."  He left, followed by a still
smirking Reed, leaving Tucker staring thoughtfully at T'Pol.

"Commander?" she asked coolly and he seemed to come out of his
introspection, flicking a quick look around him.

"I need to ask you something."  He jerked his head away from the
remainder of the returning crew who were still mingling, chatting and
exchanging stories.  "In private."  She followed him, intrigued,
noting that he still wasn't moving easily.  Archer should have allowed
him to rest, not dragged him out to consume alcohol.  Then he halted
in a deserted section of corridor, checking both directions before
leaning in slightly to ask in a lowered voice, "Do Vulcans date?"

T'Pol was sure nothing showed outwardly, but internally she could not
deny that the sensation she felt was excitement.  He was going to ask
if they could become more than friends.  And she wanted to.  Wanted it
so much that it threatened to overset all the logical reasons why it
was impossible.   "Why do you ask?"  Surely that was encouragement
enough.  He knew her well enough to know that ‘No' was the real answer
to his question.

"M'Lek asked me to have dinner with her."

The stab of pain was so intense it actually took T'Pol a moment to
formulate a response.  There was no reason to be hurt.  They were
friends, he had merely come to her for advice.  It wasn't as if she
had been unaware of the other woman's interest.  Just because she
could never have him did not mean that every other female in the
galaxy was likewise deprived.  "I believe she is interested in
humans."

"Why'd she pick on me?"

She glared at him to hide the pain.  "She is attracted to you."

He practically recoiled in shock.  "She's Vulcan!"

The knife in T'Pol's guts twisted further.  Even the thought of a
Vulcan woman finding him attractive filled him with disgust.  "I
believe you have a saying, ‘there is no accounting for taste'."

"But … she can't, can she?  Only if it's the right time or something."

"You know nothing about my species."  The hurt was turning into anger
that she could not quite suppress.  She turned away before she lost
control entirely.  "If M'Lek wishes to disgrace herself, I would
rather not know.  Good night, commander."

T'Pol stalked away leaving Tucker little the wiser but slightly more
regretful that one Vulcan in particular would never consider a
relationship with him.  He'd pretty much convinced himself that
waiting seven years for sex just wasn't an option, but now it seemed
as if that might not after all be a hard constraint.



Tucker did his best to forget he had a date the next evening.  He
contrived to be only a quarter of the way through a complex diagnostic
at the end of his shift and was contentedly ignoring the changeover
going on around him when a familiar hand fell on his shoulder and he
jumped.  "Cap'n!"

"Trip, shouldn't you be getting ready?"

"For the engine trial tomorrow?  Sure."

The hand propelled him firmly away from the console.  "For your date
tonight.  Go get spruced up, commander.  Can't have you letting down
the ship, never mind the human race."

"Ah, hell, Cap'n, I don't want to go."  Tucker resorted to honesty and
an appeal to friendship.  "If you think M'Lek's so pretty, why don't
you go?"

"Because she asked you.  Relax, it's just a date.  You've had
hundreds."

"Yeah, but none with Vulcans."

"What's the worst that can happen?  That you'll have to eat
vegetarian?"

"Jeez, I hadn't even thought of that one."  He started for the exit. 
"OK, I'll go; but if it kills me, I'm gonna come back and haunt you."



Unlike Tucker, Reed had been looking forward to his date all day.  He
even sloped off duty early to get ready with barely a twinge of guilt;
somewhere along the line he must be owed some time.  His
disappointment when Caroline didn't turn up was therefore acute,
outweighing humiliation at being seated at a table for two with no one
to talk to.  Cursing his stupidity, he ran their encounter of the
previous day over and over in his head, searching for any sign that
she had been setting him up but he couldn't find any, not once he had
apologised for his admittedly large faux par.  He had a good memory
and he didn't think that he was so gullible as to have distorted the
incident to fit his own desires.  Caroline had liked him and her
acceptance of his offer of dinner had been genuine, therefore
something had happened to prevent her turning up.  He knew that
Enterprise's crew laughed at him for his pessimistic outlook, but in
his experience it paid to expect the worst.  It was quite possible
that something had happened to Caroline and it was up to him to find
out, otherwise he would regret the inaction to the end of his life. 
Decisively, Reed rose to his feet and strode out of the small
restaurant, ignoring the affronted proprietor.  He would find out
where his dinner date was or he was no tactical officer.



T'Pol leant forward and extinguished her primary meditation lamp but
remained resting on her knees.  Her meditations had had the desired
effect, her mind was calm, thoughts clear.  But just beneath the
surface, she knew her emotions were still in turmoil.  If she had
allowed herself to feel, those feelings would have reflected jealousy,
anger and, most of all, loneliness.  But she was Vulcan, she had long
since mastered her emotions, so all she would allow herself to
acknowledge was a slight thirst.  With a little foresight, she could
have provided herself with a drink before leaving the mess hall
earlier, but she had been focussed on returning to her quarters and
had not done so.  So logically she would now have to fetch a drink
before retiring to bed.  There was no reason to do otherwise.

It wasn't as late as T'Pol had believed so there were still a good
many of the crew about, something she would rather have avoided.  Calm
and in control she might be, but she did not want that put to the test
by too much interaction.  Not that it was likely that any but the
senior staff would approach her.  Most of Enterprise's crew treated
her with the courtesy due her rank and that was it.  She might be
first officer of the vessel but she knew that Archer and Tucker
handled many of the personnel issues that would have fallen to her if
she had been human.  She had no objection to the arrangement, it was
just that tonight she was very aware of her isolation.  Of the eighty
odd individuals on Enterprise, there were only two she considered
friends and even with Archer she did not feel sufficiently comfortable
to simply approach him for companionship.  In the past, she had been
able to do that with Tucker; he was always friendly and entertaining
and made her feel less alone.  But tonight he was the cause of her …
dislocation.  He wasn't even on the ship.  He was …

T'Pol banished that thought and turned briskly into the mess hall.  A
large mug of mint tea and then bed; and there he was, seated at a
table, pushing a serving of some form of sugar concoction around his
plate.  T'Pol didn't think her brief hesitation was noticeable, but
she could not hide from herself the sudden upsurge of jealousy as she
headed determinedly for the drinks dispenser.  M'Lek had got to touch
him all over, have his cool, long fingered hands touch her bare skin,
his muscled arms hold her close … "Mint tea."  It was a great shame
that the humans were so proud of the audio interface. A simple button
push would not have attracted Tucker's attention and she could have
left unnoticed.  As it was, he was watching her as she turned to leave
and she was weak enough to look in his direction, let him catch her
eye.

"Join me?"

He was a friend, T'Pol reminded herself sternly, just a friend.  One
did not ignore friends without good cause.  Reluctantly she perched on
the edge of a chair, fixing him with her most imperious stare. 
"Commander?"

He scowled and shoved the plate away, hugging his left arm to his
chest.  "Can't you for once call me something else?"

"Was there something you wished to discuss, Mr Tucker?"

"Charles!  My name's Charles if you won't stoop to a nickname."  T'Pol
sipped her tea, hoping it would calm her stomach which seemed to be
tying itself in knots and Tucker grimaced, dragging his right hand
through his already disordered blond hair, eyes closing briefly. 
"Been doing anything tonight?"  He sounded deliberately casual,
without the irritation of a moment before, but T'Pol thought he'd had
to work to sound so.

"I have been meditating."

"Oh.  Want to do something else?"

"I am tired."  Her eyes were on his left arm that he was rubbing
absently.  "Your arm is sore."

"Yeah."  He frowned down at it.  "I caught it."

Whilst mating with M'Lek, no doubt.  Whilst mating with a Vulcan woman
who was not her.  T'Pol rose abruptly to her feet.  "Perhaps you
should avoid exerting yourself until you are fully recovered."  She
could hear the bite in her voice but could not stop the words.  "I am
sure M'Lek will understand."

"Hey!"  He had chased after her.  "What's that supposed to mean?"

T'Pol kept walking; she really should not have allowed that all too
revealing comment to slip out.  "I suggest you consult Dr Phlox
regarding the best means of recuperation."

"It's just sore."  He was struggling to keep up with her fast pace. 
"Will you stop a minute?"

He caught her arm and T'Pol stiffened, pulling away.  Normally she
liked, even craved his touch, but the last person he had had his hands
on was M'Lek and that thought made her nauseous.

"What the hell …?"  Tucker was staring at her in astonishment.

"I am very tired.  Good night, commander."

"T'Pol …"

"I said good night!"  They both flinched at the anger in her voice
then she was gone, leaving a confused and indignant chief engineer
staring after her.



Porthos was busy entertaining his master when the door chime sounded. 
Dog and man stopped their game and exchanged a look before Archer
grimaced and called for entry.  A tousled blond head peered in.  "Tell
me this is a Vulcan-free zone."

"Just me and Porthos," Archer confirmed and watched with amusement and
considerable relief as Tucker slumped down onto the bed, sighing.  The
engineer hadn't paid an unofficial visit in weeks and even the night
before Archer had been aware that his long-time friend was a lot more
reserved than previously; and reserved and Tucker were two words he
had never expected to use in the same sentence.  "What's up?"

"I had a fight with T'Pol."

He was not pleased to hear that, the captain instructed himself.  It
could affect the smooth running of his ship.  "Nothing new there,
Trip."  Tucker didn't respond and Archer's mouth compressed slightly
as he goaded himself into the role of best friend and confidante;
shouldn't be hard, he'd done it for years.  "What did you argue about
this time?"

"I have no idea."  Tucker rubbed his face then stretched the hand out
to Porthos as the beagle came over to investigate.  "You know, I think
Vulcan women are just as unpredictable as the rest."

"T'Pol's certainly surprised me a few times."  He watched his friend
half-heartedly rubbing Portos' floppy ears.  "How'd it go with M'Lek? 
Have a good time?"

"No!  She asked a lot of real personal questions then told me she
wished to mate.  Purely for scientific reasons, of course!"

"What did you say?"

"I said no!  Hell, what d'you think I'd say?"

"Well, you're not usually adverse to sex."

"You really think I'm that easy, Cap'n?"

"No."  Archer headed for his cache of alcohol, patting Tucker's
shoulder apologetically in passing.  "But it has been a while for all
of us.  Here."  He held out a glass of bourbon, taking one himself.

"You sound like T'Pol," the other man grumbled.  "I think she blamed
me that M'Lek was coming on to me."

"Is that why you argued?"

"I dunno.  Don't see why."

"Perhaps she's jealous."  He had been hoping Tucker would take it as a
joke, but the engineer only grimaced, and Archer frowned.  Maybe it
was time to find out where they both stood.  "Trip, are you …
interested in T'Pol?"

"No!"  That was snapped far too defensively, forcing Tucker to make an
effort to shrug it off.  "I thought we were friends, but the way she's
been acting the last few weeks …   It's like she hates me again."  He
knocked back the bourbon.  "I like to know why I've lost friends."

Archer leant over to re-fill the glass, knowing that Tucker was
watching him.  "You've not lost me, Trip."  He looked up to meet the
younger man's eyes.  "I was out of line that time.  I'm sorry."

"Took you long enough to say it."

"Well, you weren't exactly conciliating."

"So, are you and T'Pol …?"

"To be honest," Archer pulled a face, "I don't know."  He shrugged and
decided that he needed more bourbon too.  "Sometimes I wonder if I'm
just making an idiot of myself over her."  Although he certainly
wasn't comfortable with the idea of someone else having her,
particularly Tucker.  It was such an unlikely pairing that in his less
rational moments it seemed inevitable.  Maybe if he kept up the
private dinners with just the two of them …

The door chime interrupted a conversation that had been getting too
close to the bone for them both, although Tucker had recovered his
spirits enough to groan theatrically.  "If that's T'Pol …"

"You can hide under the bed.  Come."

It was Reed who entered, too intent on his own business to be
surprised at finding Enterprise's captain and chief engineer sprawled
on the captain's bed with a bottle between them.  "Sir, I have to
report a missing person."

"One of the crew!"  Archer sat up straight, reaching for the PADD Reed
was holding out.  "Who is it?"

"Her name's Caroline Grayson.  She's a resident of Freeport, although
her parents were from Earth."

"That girl you were meeting tonight?"  Tucker cottoned on quickly,
grinning.  "She stood you up, Malcolm.  That doesn't mean she's
missing."

"No, it doesn't," the armoury officer agreed levelly, "but the fact
that she didn't turn up for work and that her room shows signs of a
struggle, that means she's missing."

"Malcolm," Archer said slowly, "I appreciate your concern but I don't
see what we can do about it.  It's for the authorities on Freeport to
investigate."

"They won't," the Englishman said shortly.  "There's more, captain. 
I've spoken with a number of people who knew Caroline.  They're sure
she's been taken by slavers.  I've done some digging around the last
few hours.  It certainly looks as though there's a flourishing slave
trade in this sector, mostly centred on Freeport.  There's no official
record but the authorities can't fail to be aware of the problem. 
They're probably paid to turn a blind eye."  He gestured to the PADD
Archer was holding.  "It's all on there, sir."

"Even if what you say is true," Archer spoke slowly, looking at the
PADD, brow furrowed, "I don't see what we can do about it.  We've no
authority here.  We're not an inter-galactic police force, Malcolm."

"We're talking slavery here, Cap'n."  Tucker was earnest.  "Are we
just gonna turn a blind eye too?  Because there's some real unpleasant
names for people who do that."

Archer's mouth tightened.  "I know that, Trip."  He was tapping the
PADD against his thigh.  "Give me some time to read your report,
lieutenant, and then I'll talk to the Vulcans here.  They may be able
to give us a clearer picture of the way things stand.  Until then,
have a word with Travis, see if he knows any more.  Trip, if we had to
get underway, how long would it take us to be ready and what
performance would we have?"

"I'll run some options."

"Then get on it, you two; and make sure you get some sleep."



Archer took both Reed and T'Pol with him to talk to the leader of the
Vulcan enclave, the former through insistence and the latter to
demonstrate that humans could be trusted.  Reed's evidence had
certainly been compelling and from the man's shadowed eyes and the
additional data he had produced that morning, Archer doubted he had
slept.  Not that Archer would consider pulling him up about it. 
Reed's single minded and dedicated approach served Enterprise well and
whilst Archer still refused to admit to an official interest the
affair, he understood the other man's affront.  Lakan did not.

The party from Enterprise listened in disbelief as the Vulcan calmly
agreed that an established slave trade operated through Freeport.

"But that's … barbaric!" Reed protested and received the Vulcan
equivalent of a shrug.

"Freeport is a private venture.  The slavers break no planetary law
here."

"What about the laws of the home planets of the people they take?"

"They are careful to exploit only those without the infrastructure to
retaliate."

"Vulcan has never felt the need to intervene?" Archer enquired with
the beginnings of sarcasm and Lakan's eyebrow rose again.

"Since no Vulcan citizens have been involved, no."

"Very public spirited of you."

"There are no laws in space, captain," T'Pol observed.  "Treaties
between planetary governments are infrequent and often limited to
matters of trade, not criminal activity."

"Perhaps that needs to be addressed.  Some sort of inter-planetary
organisation like the United Nations on Earth in the 20th and 21st
century ..."

"Which I understood to have been ineffective."

"It would be better than nothing."

"That is for the politicians to decide.  We can only look to our own
rules of engagement."

"And what protocols do the Vulcans have regarding piracy, T'Pol?"

"As Lakan informed you, captain, unless Vulcan citizens are involved
we do not interfere."

"Captain," Reed began and Archer waved him to silence.

"Thank you for your information, Lakan.  It's been a pleasure to hear
your views, but I think we have to be going."

"Good day, Captain Archer."  Lakan's cool gaze passed over him and
fixed on T'Pol as he added a comment in Vulcan to which she responded
with an inclination of her head.

Archer waited until they were on their way back to the docking area
before demanding, "What did he say?"

"Lakan reminded me of the reason for my posting to Enterprise."  To
advise, to caution, to prevent.  T'Pol wasn't sure that she had ever
been very successful at the latter.

"Fine.  You remember that, T'Pol."  She recognised Archer's tone; when
he adopted it, there was very little point in trying to prevent.  The
best she had ever managed was mitigation.

"What are we going to do, sir?"  Reed sounded hopeful; he too had
spotted that his captain had reached a conclusion and it wasn't to
stand quietly to one side.

"We're going to collect evidence, lieutenant.  We're going to collect
such compelling evidence that every space-fairing species has to take
action or face ostracism from the rest."

Continued in Part Three

--
Stephen Ratliff
ASC Stories Only Forwarding

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